Microaggression. Hmmm. I have heard this mentioned as both meaningful and meaningless, depending on the attitudes and experience of the speaker. So I connected with my good friend Phil Williams to help me understand. BTW, how much better would all of us be and do if we asked the question: “Can you help me understand?”
Phil is black. I am not. He is one of the smartest, kindest, and most transparent people I know. After he led me through some of his experiences, I believe - I hope - I am closer to understanding this concept and can better feel the truth of this kind of interaction. I am not going to offer up a definition, but simply suggest that, unlike a macroaggression (“You liberal commie!”), the micro kind can be about misunderstanding and cluelessness, and it can be about intolerance. We trespass because we didn’t see a sign which may be invisible to us but glaringly obvious to the other or when we throw out a deliberate dog whistle. The former we can learn from if we are open enough to examine our prejudice. The latter we can’t because we aren’t.
What if there’s an alternative to microaggression? A moment when we interact, often with a stranger, and find ourselves connected beyond a glancing pass? A micro-intimacy?
This spring, on my way into a grocery store. I noticed a woman of some years (like me) with her hand on a grocery cart. She looked like she was pulling and it was stuck. I offered to help. She gave me a huge grin and said, “I’m just waiting for all these damn people to get out of the way.” What could have landed as a microaggression (something having to do with an assumption of weakness based on age) became a micro-intimacy: we connected with shields down and with an assumption of good will, instantly - though momentarily - closer.
Here’s another micro-intimacy story: I was in a local shop looking for Miracle Gro for some planting Hope and I were doing. The first employee I asked wasn’t sure what this product was. Behind me came a voice: “We used to carry it, but we don’t anymore. Don’t know why.” She looked around the store and then motioned me to follow her to the little station where they trim and arrange flowers. She took a disposable glove out of the drawer, a bag of the plant food, and filled the glove, then tied it off and handed it to me with a gleaming smile.
Consider the idea that we need more opportunities to connect, a default setting opened up by the distance of the pandemic and the desire for at least a moment’s sense of safety and a shared smile. How much would change if we asked people’s names when we’re checking out with our purchase or waiting for a class to start? Try investing in a moment of non-boilerplate, interested conversation, an invitation to connection: “Did it feel this hot when you were a kid?” rather than “Sure is hot today!”
I had to overcome my own shyness to initiate this, Now I realize that micro-intimacy demonstrates trust. It demonstrates courage. And it demonstrates interest, the invitation to intimacy (‘make familiar’). It is not being interesting that protects us from being boring, it is being interested.
When I am interested, I am interesting. How about that for a bonus?
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