“I am myself plus my circumstance, and if I do not save it, I cannot save myself.”
JOSÉ ORTEGA Y GASSET
THE UNCONSCIOUS AND THE conscious are not separate compartments but ends of a continuum in which influence flows both ways. Methods that begin with the unconscious mind are the first to reach barriers to self-esteem formed in our earliest and most intimate lives. Methods like those that psychologists call “cognitive”—which enter at the intellectual or conscious end of the continuum—are the first to reach barriers that have been erected by culture and society.
Suppose, for instance, we are members of a group treated as unequal or invisible by some or all of the society around us. Whether we come from the “wrong” race, sex, caste, class, ethnicity, or sexuality—whether our inner or outer selves just aren’t the “norm,” or our circumstances have changed in a way that temporarily shakes our self-esteem—we probably have internalized some of this low opinion. In addition, we may feel “crazy” when we try to express our true selves, because the dominant system treats our point of view and experiences as invisible or unimportant. Two kinds of parallel therapy can help break through this visibility barrier.
First, we can explore the parallels between our own experiences and those of another discriminated-against or undervalued person or group whose sufferings society takes more seriously. Letty Cottin Pogrebin used this kind of parallel therapy when she wrote about the similarities between anti-Semitism and woman-hatred. Starting with the often-quoted statement that “women are the Jews of the world” (and vice versa), she listed parallels:
Just as woman comes in two opposing archetypes, Madonna and whore, so is the Jew split in two: victim (Anne Frank) and victimizer (Shylock).
The myth of “female power” (in terms of sexual or maternal omnipotence) re-casts the male in the vulnerable role and thus justifies discrimination against women; the myth of “Jewish power” re-casts the Christian majority as pawns, and helps justify repression of the Jews.
“Jews really control the press,” “White women really control the wealth,” and “Black matriarchs really control black men” are three equally inaccurate clichés invented to mask the overwhelming concentration of power and money in the hands of white Christian men.
The existence of some leisured women and some affluent Jews is claimed as proof that all members of both groups are privileged.
… The mystique of the intrinsic sexual-psychic evil of both women and Jews makes plausible periodic purges of Jews and bizarre accusations against women.
“Women are too powerful” was the underlying impetus for the slaughter of 9 million “witches” and the advancement of a repressive patriarchal religious establishment. “Jews are too powerful” was the argument Hitler used to promote himself as champion of the working class against rich “Jewish bankers.”
Every so often, when times are especially hard, Jews get identified as “the problem” … so do women. Times are harder now—and both anti-Semitism and antifeminism are on the rise.18
This exercise was written to help women understand anti-Semitism within the women’s movement, but it also helped women, Jewish and otherwise, to see their situation from the outside, cognitively, and thus to take antifemale discrimination and stereotyping as seriously as they would take the same treatment of Jews.
There are hundreds of other pairings that can be used to illuminate the shared experiences of apparently disparate groups. In authoritarian societies that try to channel all sexuality toward child-bearing, for instance, independent women and homosexual men both stand for subverting the “natural” purpose of sex (that is, the production of children within patriarchal marriage), and both undermine the basis of the sexual caste system by putting men in a nondominant role. Even now, fundamentalist religions condemn feminism and homosexuality in the same breath, but the parallels between them were even more painfully clear in the past. In medieval Europe when the Inquisition conducted centuries of witch-burnings in order to wipe out those women leaders and healers of the preexisting pagan faith, for instance, homosexual men were often burned at the stake first to make the fires “hot enough” to burn a witch—hence the derogatory term faggots.
For challenging the kind of socially sanctioned invisibilities, denigrations, and divisions described in chapter 3—and thus relearning our own worth and the worth of other devalued groups—this first form of parallel therapy can work wonders. Empathy is the most revolutionary emotion, and parallel therapy can help to create it.
The second kind of parallel thinking is more ambitious. Instead of making a comparison between two discriminated-against groups, try putting the powerful in the place of the powerless. It’s a great reality check.
Take language, for instance. Many women feel invisible or aberrant when they are subsumed under a masculine term that is supposed to be universal; yet they are often made to feel trivial and nit-picking if they object. But look at it this way: Would a man feel included in “womankind”? Would he refer to himself as “chairwoman,” “Congresswoman,” or “Mr. Mary Smith”? If a male student earned a “Spinster of Arts” degree, a “Mistress of Science,” or had to apply for a “Sistership,” would he feel equal in academia? If men had grown up seeing God portrayed only as Mother and She, would they feel an equal godliness within themselves?
The same linguistic concerns hold true for race and religion. If titles like “novelist” and “engineer” were perceived as black unless otherwise stated—if “white novelist” or “white engineer” were necessary qualifiers—would whites feel equal ownership of those professions? If political issues put forward by white male citizens were called “special interest” and those of women and people of color who are the majority were the mainstream, who would feel themselves marginalized? If white people were defined in the negative as “non-black,” or Christians were defined as “non-Jews,” who would see themselves as the norm of society?
Or take homemakers, a group generally described as “women who don’t work.” In fact, homemakers work longer hours than any other class of worker. So do the women in agricultural countries who work in the fields and grow the family food—but they’re not counted as workers, either. Suppose we started counting all this work at its salaried replacement value? Women who work outside the home would benefit from this altered perception, since they’re usually working two jobs, one that is salaried and visible and one that is neither. If, on the other hand, men were valued according to female definitions of work, think what would happen. Most men would be described (and paid) as “part-time workers”—they are productive outside the home, but not in it.19 As a bonus, the Gross National Product of the U.S. would go up at least 25 percent—and certainly the gross national self-esteem of homemakers would increase, too.
If parallel therapy seems too abstract, try using it in everyday life. When reporters focused on what I wore or why I wasn’t married instead of what I said, for instance, I used to think that it was either my fault or just somehow in the nature of things. Then I began to make a mental parallel with a man who was exactly my age and also unmarried: consumer advocate Ralph Nader. In each instance, I asked myself: Would these reporters ask Ralph Nader why he wasn’t married? Would they preface what he had to say with remarks about the cut of his hair and the color of his suit? The answer was usually no. I began to feel less at fault, and more able to explain the imbalance—and to give reporters a logical argument for changing it.
The ultimate in parallel thinking is the Golden Rule—providing it is read both ways. The traditional sequence assumes a healthy self-esteem and asks for empathy: “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” But for many people whose self-esteem has been suppressed, the revolution lies in reversing it: Do unto yourself as you would do unto others.