Radical Empathy: Where I’m At.
“Empathy, the most powerful tool of compassion, is an emotional skill set that allows us to understand what someones is experiencing and to reflect back that understanding.” - Brené Brown (Atlas of the Heart)
I grew up comfortable. My dad had a stable job, my mom could stay at home while I was young, I never worried about where food was going to come from, and I always had a roof over my head. I had the blessing of leisure. I had the treasure of time. I grew up comfortable. That is a gift, that is the fates dealing me a favorable hand, that is called privilege.
For a long time I held that being empathetic meant being able to transmute your own experiences into a form of sympathy for someone going through the same thing. Because of the way I grew up, I wondered how I would empathize with many people, because in all honesty, I did not experience really any physical hardship. Under my formerly held definition, I was highly limited in regards to my scope of empathy. (I remember when I was around nine years old I actually prided myself that I knew the difference between empathy and sympathy; I would frequently say the phrase “I can’t empathize with you, but I can sympathize…”. I bet everyone just LOVED that…word nerd for the win…)
However, something in my heart of hearts was stirring. Surely this can’t be right? Empathy is powerful, so why should it’s bandwidth be so….withheld? During this time I was reading My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok (one of my favorite authors) for my AP Lit class. It’s a powerful book. Here’s a brief AI generated summary because I don’t believe my attempts at writing a summation would be succinct enough; I love this book too much.
“My Name is Asher Lev" tells the story of a young Hasidic Jewish boy named Asher Lev, who possesses an extraordinary talent for art, but struggles to reconcile his artistic ambitions with the strict religious expectations of his community in Brooklyn, New York; his desire to express himself through painting often clashes with his family's beliefs, leading to a complex internal conflict as he navigates his artistic path and grapples with his identity as a devout Jew.” - Google Gemini
I don’t share many commonalities with Asher. I’m not a Hasidic Jew. I’m not a boy. I do not posses extraordinary prowess for art. My religious community has very few expectations for me. I don’t live in Brooklyn; you get the picture. Yet despite the lack of commonality, I still felt deeply connected to this story. We might have grown up differently, but I felt for Asher. Coming into yourself is a messy process.
However, in regards to the topic of radical empathy, Rivkeh, Asher’s mom, sparked the flame that has now lit into my growing understanding of the word. The mom in My Name is Asher Lev is, in my reading of her, incredibly strong. She holds the two men in her life together even as their choices drive the other away. She seeks to understand both of their perspectives. She is with those she loves in the midst of their suffering. To me, she is the embodiment of empathy.
Rivkeh is willing to be there amidst her loved one’s pain. She doesn’t shy away from it. This comes at a cost, but she sacrificially lays down her own comfort. Why? She loves. That to me is empathy.
It is willingness to feel things deeply with people because you love them.
I am not saying that if you don’t love someone you shouldn’t display empathy towards them. That is a perspective issue. What I am saying is that we should LOVE people, and because of our unconditional love for others we can feel deeply with them.
Okay….so what about the RADICAL part? That, my friend, comes with the act of trying to understand someone who everyone around you says that you should hate—or even someone who hates you.
I’m still figuring out exactly what that means. This concept is not yet solidified in my mind. But what I am learning is that in this period of growing polarization, seeking to understand those with different identities, backgrounds, and views than you is distinctly countercultural. However, if we do not seek to radically empathize with the experiences of others, our world will continue to grow hostile towards the “other.”
I’m certainly not alone in this belief (after all many authors, teachers, speakers, and friends have lead me to it), but maybe one day this form of empathy won’t be so radical. That’s the hope.
Further Reading: Atlas of the Heart, Radical Empathy, The Empathy Effect, The War for Kindness, My Name is Asher Lev
