You know how it's the
first time you're at a party at Lucy's and you don't really know
anyone? Or your first day at a new school? And somehow it's all just
slightly uncomfortable and you feel out of place and it's such a
relief to go home and close
the door and listen to your normal music or talk to your regular
friends. After a while you get to know Lucy and her friends better
and enjoy the parties more, and you get to know your classmates, you
find out where the restrooms are and you finally pick up on the
paper-hand-in-system. All is well. You have made these new places
somewhere you belong, they have become part of your comfort zone,
places where you feel at ease.
Now, that doesn't always
happen for everybody. If it does for you, you're a very lucky person!
But most of us have place where we simply do not and cannot feel at
home. There are ways of dealing with this; the most usual one is,
probably, just staying away from there and be blissfully unaware of
stuff outside your own horizons. Good on you.
Another way of handling it
is .. well, learning to deal with the newness of it all. Even making
the place somewhere you belong, whenever possible. (It isn't always.)
In this piece, I wish to argue that leaving your comfort zone may be
a very valuable and informative experience, when done with proper
respect, and something to at least be attempted. At a new school, you
often don't really have a choice, but in many cases you do have.
It's no secret that
I'm the sort of person to just go out there. Some would claim I was
brought up to do so, but I don't think that's all there is to it. In
any case, it takes more than details such as a foreign language and a
weird alphabet to keep me away. While ABBA wonder, ”leaving
now, is that the right
thing?”,
I'll be out the door already. So my view may be biased in that
direction. That doesn't mean, however, that my point is necessarily
irrelevant for everyone else.
Thinking
about this consciously began many years ago when I went on my very
first anthropological fieldwork in, you might not be surprised, a gay
bar. (It was not my idea, but I let them talk me into it.) So on our
first night of studying drag shows (overall theme was ”rituals”,
go figure) we set out, four girly girls in our nicest clothes, and
crashed the predominantly male bar. Needless to say, people were
weirded out by what on earth we were doing there, requesting alcohol-free strawberry daiquiries on a Wednesday evening. Perhaps even more
needless to say, we were even more uncomfortable, and never have I
felt so relieved and at home as when we left and I was waiting for my
train in good old dirty Nørreport Station. Back in straight space.
My space.
But
we persisted and went back in the next day. It was already better.
People had figured us out, we were figuring out the place, and the
guys were totally cool about bathroom lines and such. Fieldwork
lasted 4 days, and the week after we went back with a box of
chocolates to say thank you, and the other girls had a long talk with
a transgender woman there about high heeled shoes and where to buy
them. It took us a shock like out first night to explicitly realise
something so simple as, ”this bar is her safe space – every time
she goes outside, she must feel approximately as we did in here on
the first evening”. Just a tiny tiny inkling of what intersectional
oppressions may feel like in practice. No small achievement for a
very first fieldwork, even if I can never pretend to comprehend fully.
We
managed to somehow integrate this bar into our respective comfort
zones, even if only for a few days. And we learned what privilege may
mean. I sometimes think back to that woman, and what I learned
from her. I also do my best to act
with respect
when in other people's spaces, even if I shall forever be a clumsy
person who doesn't always pick up hints until it has become
embarrassing.
I
have mentioned both safe space and comfort zone so far, though I do
not mean to conflate them. A safe space
is
“an area or forum where either a marginalised group are not supposed to face standard mainstream stereotypes and marginalisation, or in which a shared political or social viewpoint is required to participate in the space.”
Having
a gay bar as a safe space would mean that you're not supposed to be
there if you hate gay people, to put it simplified. The term also
denotes the use of trigger warnings on top of blog posts etc., when
they contain discussions of something that might bring back
unpleasant memories and trigger people. While it seems to be
used predominantly when speaking of online activity, I would extend
it to places where you're not afraid of physical attack. To some,
this might seem like a superfluous statement – good for you!
Unfortunately, it is not so for everybody, hate crimes are still
rampant.
While
it overlaps with comfort zones, they're not the same thing. According to
wikipedia, "A comfort zone is a type of mental conditioning that causes a person to create and operate mental boundaries.” It's the construction of a space where it's easy and routine to be,
both physically and mentally. So we stick to there, unless we're made
to go outside it – for example when starting at a new school or
whatever, or a friend convinces us to go to a party full of
near-strangers. A difference lies in the fact that our personal safety would not be compromised by going outside, it is pure convenience.
Including
a place in your comfort zone with routine takes practice. A common
strategy seems to be to show up and hide in the corner so many times
that people begin to recognise you and say hi, after a while. My
personal one is: to pretend like I own the place (in the sense “I've
totally been here before and know how things work”), in the hope
that no one will notice that I feel lost. So they treat me like I'm
not a lost intruder. All is well.
But
I'm also pretty much default how people are expected to be, in terms
of a lot of variables, so I get less shit than many others. I was
even complimented for my courage when being the only non-gay person
at a gay party – not sure why, I guess due to the suddenly being
the minority when I'm used to not being it. But would you ever
compliment a gay person for his/her courage as the only gay person in
a non-gay space? Not so much, they're just expected to suck it up.
Even
if I didn't feel too much out of place on that occasion (I was
pretending to totally own the place), being the minority when you're
not used to it can be highly educating. That uneasiness? It may be
likeable to how some people feel every day. It can open your eyes to
other views and experiences, even if it takes courage and
understanding. I've hinted at respect – knowing that your
pretending to own the place might not be received well, if you're
telling people they're wrong, or their experiences invalid. This
should go for each and every space, obviously, public space ought to
be safe for everybody, but being outside your own comfort zone may
mean that you're in someone else's safe space. They likely won't
appreciate having it violated.
A
way to make everybody feel uncomfortable at the same time is to make
a gender-switch party. (Heh. Maybe I should arrange for one soon ;))
Girls pretend to be guys, guys pretend to be girls. While the
dynamics of how we behave when we dress as a different gender are
highly interesting and deserve a thorough exploration of their own,
it is also clear from what I have been able to observe that leaving
your comfort zone may be done by something as simple as wearing a
dress or putting a sock into your pants to look like a guy (ho ho).
It doesn't necessarily require a physical movement of yourself from A to B.
But it can also be moving
from A to B. Buy a one-way ticket to Spain and see what happens. Or a
one-way ticket to South Korea. Who knows? Somewhere out there there's
something you don't know that may be exciting, instructive, or maybe
it won't be, but if you don't try it, you'll never know.
And you'll never get the
chance to gain an understanding of how it feels to not be you. Or to
use that understanding to make the world a nicer and safer place for
everybody. Let this be my encouragement: get out of your comfort
zone, get out there, and kick ass. If all you need is that last push,
I'll be happy to help you!
About suddenly being the minority: when I was in Africa and everybody stared at me all the time for months, I really realised something about looking different. Being able to totally blend in at home if that's what I want, I got a taste of how it might be like to wear e.g. a niqab in Denmark.
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