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The Raft We may never be strong enough to be entirely nonviolent Marshall Rosenberg in "Nonviolent Communication, A Language of Life" calls the techniques he uses and teaches, a raft. He says, "the objective of NVC is to establish a relationship based on honesty and empathy" (81). This seems to me to be a worthwhile objective. However, I am less certain his techniques demonstrate the achievement of these ideals. To be honest, upon completion of the book I experienced feelings of disappointment. I wanted more. In my effort to pin down the source of my feelings I realized that I carried an expectation into my process of reading the book. I expected the book to focus on the nature of violence in communication. It didn't do that, or not to the extent I wanted; I felt this book and these techniques didn't go far enough. In my experimentation with his techniques, did I experience nonviolence? To consider this question fairly I must first examine my meaning of nonviolence and Rosenberg's meaning, to see if we are understanding these words in the same way. I consider violence to be the intentional action of a person to injure, harm or abuse themselves or others, including through the delivery of intense feelings or expressions. For me, nonviolence is the absence of violence. Rosenberg describes nonviolence in this way, "...our natural state of compassion when violence has subsided from the heart" (2). It is clear that our meanings do not closely parallel each other. Can I equate the absence of violence with a natural state of compassion? Do I believe these two concepts are the same? This question has led me to consider the idea of compassion and to ask myself if it is a natural state. Can I find foundation for compassion in humans as a natural state? Mirriam-Webster describes a "natural state" as, "being in a state of nature without spiritual enlightenment; living in or as if in a state of nature untouched by the influences of civilization and society" and describes compassion as, "...consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it" (Mirriam-Webster). From the examination of just these few words it becomes clear to me where my expectation was flawed and why I experienced Rosenberg's book to retain features of communication violence. Rosenberg's technique is actually quite simple: first we observe the situation and make a preliminary determination if it is, "enriching or not enriching our lives" (6). Second, can we communicate our observation without criticizing, blaming, judging. Third, can we connect what we feel to needs that we have and fourth, can we communicate what we feel we want so that our life will be enriched? Rosenberg urges us not to place a value judgment but surely "enriching" or "not enriching" are value judgment. In practice during step two he asks us to sense what the other person's unaddressed needs are and articulate them aloud. Be empathetic. Doesn't this also place a silent judgment upon the other person's language choices as inadequate or incompetent and aren't these also value judgments? Rosenberg might view this step as a compassionate collaboration, however, is this merely a form of magisterial speech or a way to speak 'for' another person rather than allowing them to speak for themselves? In the third step he asks us to connect our feelings to needs we have - isn't this creating a reciprocal imposition upon the other person, an external responsibility for our unresolved hidden needs? Lastly we are to language our needs in such a way as to encourage the other person to meet our needs. If there is a potential consequence for refusal of request, can a request be nonviolent? Doesn't this request demand concept rely on an elevated self-advocacy skill-set in the recipient of the request in order for the request to meet the standard of nonviolence? In what way does the requester determine the existence of this skill-set prior to deploying their request? What is violent communication? From my perspective it begins with the forcible, nonconsensual imposition of energy, through language, to silence or alter the way another person is being in the world. In literal terms: to infringe on another's right to freedom of thought and speech, perhaps through extension on physical freedom as well. Is the first violent communication between people negated by an empathetic understanding of the other person's pain? When this expressed nonenriching energy leaves one person and is transmitted to another, is its receipt upon the body of the other person affected by possession of a communication skill? What if we transposed this nonenriched energy with electricity and stated that one person is directing a beam of electricity at another at a level or degree known to create damage? From this perspective my potential communication tools would not appear to protect me from receiving this energy and this injury. Further, if I am open to receiving another person's pain, if I equate nonenriching energy to expressed pain, am I creating a mental thought process that I share some responsibility for that pain? Again, is this nonviolent toward myself? What do we know about these energies? Science has clearly identified correlations between nonenriching verbal assault and elevated levels of stress and disease in the body of the recipient. We could consider these nonenriching energies to be transmittable forms of disease transmission. If we transposed this argument and said that a person was verbally assaulting another person with cancer when they yelled at them does this issue become more clear? While the physical implications may be less initially visible than with physical assault, the long term damage from violent communication cannot be understated. In step four we are encouraged to express our unmet needs to the person we are communicating with. Factually, when we tell another person what we want there is a strong cultural subtext that is activated. If that person does not comply will there be consequences for them such as feelings of guilt, betrayal, abandonment, shame, etc. Rosenberg asks us to frame our needs as a request rather than a demand, but he doesn't appear to explore the ramifications of rejection no matter how this action is languaged. Further, he doesn't discuss how to identify that the recipient of this request will have the necessary skill-set in self-advocacy to respond to this request without self-injury or consequence. Will we relate to others differently because they have rejected our expressed needs? Did they consent to receiving our requests? Is this step potentially another way to manipulate or impose direction upon other people under the guise of getting our needs met? Aren't these also forms of violence? I feel it is also important to take a look at Rosenberg's orientation toward compassion. He appears to feel that the absence of violence in communication equates to a motivation of compassion. If I were to say that the absence of war could be viewed as an absence of violence, does this mean my absence of war translates into my possession of a desire to alleviate your distress? No. There may be many reasons why I might desire not to engage in a war with you or perhaps with anyone. Perhaps I simply want to live with an absence of violence. It could be true that this less-violent state may result in improvements in relationship but it may not. Because I choose not to injure you does not mean I am interested in investing in your feelings, concerns or needs, nor you in mine. It is in these areas that I feel Rosenberg doesn't go far enough. We impose our communication styles upon each other and imposition can be a form of tyranny just as these techniques can be a form of tyranny. Rosenberg asks me to speak for the silence of your needs but what I really want is for you to speak for yourself. These techniques ask the participant to place themselves on both sides of the conversation, becoming both voices speaking to self. It is useful, but as a raft, will it carry me all the way across the river or will it bob near the shore of violence, unable to weather the deeps?
Work Cited Miriam-Webster Dictionary, http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary Rosenberg, Marshall B., Ph.D., "Nonviolent Communication, A Language of
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Marshall Rosenberg At some point in my adulthood I realized that I was living a violent life. I used violent language, had violent thoughts, spewed mainstream violent ideologies. In this process I also accepted a degree of violence directed toward me. I was tolerant. At the time when I brought this thinking to the forefront of my mind I had already been aware of its echoes in my life and I had already been cleaning up things like my swearing. I believe each of us approaches major issues or ideological changes through small eddies and streams. We fix small things first and inevitably we are led upstream inside our consciousness to bigger and bigger streams until that day when we stand on the shores of our own violent nature and can know it for being violent. I suppose it is the facing of the beast in some forms. In any case, I believe that each of us experiences a moment of true realization where we can no longer hide behind the veils of the many disguises we use to perpetrate violence upon ourselves and others. For me, that moment transformed everything. I made a conscious choice to cease participating in active violence against myself and others and to no longer agree that others had the cultural right to violate me. As James Carse says - "for a right to exist, it must exist for all or it exists for none." (Please note that I am not quoting him directly and you absolutely SHOULD read his words because he is very elegant in how he describes this) From my perspective or integration of his meaning I believe this is how it works: If I want to experience the right to live my life without others behaving violently toward me, I must at the same time honor that right for ALL others regardless of their personal relationship with violence. I must exercise the existance of the right in order for it to exist for me. This decision removes my ability to create a framework designed to give me permission to act in violence against you. As I noted above, my more familiar acts of violence or those I first noticed the most surrounded my thinking and language. If I could say something ugly about myself or others - speak/think in a judging way then I was violent. This was my entry into my own personal culture of violence. As I confronted the easier bits of it I discovered the degree to which I depended upon fear to inform my actions in relationship to other people. Virtually all of my self-descriptive rhetoric had some aspect of self-justification for violent behavior. Something as surfacely innocuous as saying "I am a control freak" is really a way of saying to others that I am afraid and in that fear desire to control ideas, behaviors, events, circumstances for everything around me so that I can make everything conform to the shape of my worldview so I will feel less afraid. This is also a descriptive which informs others of a mechanism I will use to violate their choices. It is inherently violent. As my dependency became visible the degree to which I was partnered with violence as a primary informant to my choices astonished me. Far from being a 'strong' person - I was really interpreting strength as the ability to oppress others through mechanisms and behaviors I used against them. In this way, you may begin to see how I wanted more from Marshall Rosenberg's book, from his techniques and ideas. If you have little else to guide your search for your own violent inner self, I do recommend his work. Begin anywhere - that is what is important.
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