I’m a big believer in “safe spaces.”
I will stipulate that my definition is non-standard. Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a “safe space” thus:
“A place (as on a college campus) intended to be free of bias, conflict, criticism, or potentially threatening actions, ideas, or conversations.”
Bah! I may be tilting at a windmill here, but that’s wrong. At least it should be wrong.
Safe to say the wrong thing, safe to hit the wrong chord, safe to walk right into a spinning back fist without real damage, cuz you wore your mouthpiece…
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A while back, I was invited to talk story at Paulina Springs Books around my collection of frontier biographies, Warriors of the Wildlands: True Tales of the Frontier Partisans. The book is intended mostly to be a set of ripping yarns about authentic badasses living lives of hardship and adventure from the 18th through the early 20th Century. But you can’t walk down the trail of frontier history without encountering the giant boulder of race, and that’s what we addressed in what turned into a lively — and sometimes fraught — discussion.
Afterwards, a woman approached me to have her book signed and said, “I’ve been working on becoming more comfortable with being uncomfortable. This helped with that.”
That was a big win.
That’s what a “safe space” should be: a place where you can learn to handle “bias, conflict, criticism, or potentially threatening actions, ideas, or conversations.” Where you can learn to be comfortable feeling uncomfortable. Because no matter how hard we might try to purge the scary stuff, or to flee from it, it remains. In fact, the things that scare us become monsters that feed upon fear and avoidance and grow ever more strong and threatening.
Safety comes from creating a culture that values dissent instead of trying to eliminate it, and acknowledges that there is a difference between vigorously arguing your corner and being an asshole. A “safe space” is a place where you may be called upon to support your case with evidence — and where you can learn that this is not the same thing as being “attacked.”
And it’s a place where you can decide that you’ve changed your mind without finding your identity melting like that cake left out in the rain.
Active Safe Space for a college student.
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It is gratifying to see some such “safe spaces” cropping up around town. Sisters Community Church is hosting discussions of weighty films and talks on serious and difficult subjects with authors and other creative types. The new owner of Paulina Springs Books is all about creating a “safe space” for real dialogue. I met with some folks on Wednesday looking to start a First Amendment group to educate folks in town on the origins, nature and practical application of said amendment. Commendable.
This is critical, for “safe spaces” are where we train; where we can fall and fail without dire consequences. A band works out in its rehearsal space so that it can push and make mistakes and sound terrible — and be ready to kick ass on stage. Mistakes and failures in the dojo (if properly corrected) can save a martial artist some pain on the street.
When I started “tactical” shooting training with Rullman, I made lots of basic mistakes. One that stands out in my mind is a moving-and-shooting drill during which my AR jammed. I immediately started to clear the jam — and Craig yelled, “Stay in the fight! Stay in the fight!”
I’d made a fundamental mental error. The whole point was to be moving and sending rounds downrange — and I had stopped to fix a problem. A problem that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the bad guy(s) — not a jam. What I should have done was transitioned immediately to the pistol and stayed in the fight.
That’s the kind of failure you want to have happen in your “safe space” — on the training grounds. Of course that sort of thing is frustrating, embarrassing, humiliating even. That’s why I remember it vividly and why I’ve (hopefully) learned my lesson.
Another key element to the “safe space”: The people you’re training with — whether you’re a musician, a martial artist, in the workplace or in a social group — must all be committed to getting better themselves, helping you get better, and helping the group improve and better tackle its mission.
There’s a lot of folks like that out there, creating real “safe spaces.” Hats off to ’em.
Matthew says
I believe the term safe space was originally used by psychiatrists treating victims of real trauma: rape victims, veterans with PTSD, et cetera. It then began to apply to spoiled children of yuppies at universities. Humanity has a tendency to misapply or take to extreme things.
Jim says
“In fact, the things that scare us become monsters that feed upon fear and avoidance and grow ever more strong and threatening…”
Darn tootin!!
What little I remember of a Carl Jung class was his idea that we all have a “long black bag we drag behind us”. Into the bag goes our fears, guilts and the myriad of lifetime failures. Failing to deal with those issues results in a heavy bag to slow us down with a big monster ready to swallow us the first chance it gets.
I wonder what kind of monsters these snowflakes are creating for themselves and the rest of us. It’s one thing to stuff away abuse or combat but to grow monsters out of differing opinions is just amazing to me.
Jung is so on point for this topic — thank you.
A ship is safe ashore
But that is not what it is built for!
(Viking wisdom according to some meme … even if not authentic, I like it)
Aye Captain!
lane batot says
I learned early on(I mean, like by toddlerhood!) that a “safe space” required a SAFE DISTANCE from HUMANS. And was I ever lucky, growing up a free-range kid with plenty of woods away from people to range in, thinking my own thoughts, and free from intrusions(and no animal predators larger than myself to worry about–although they are safer to deal with than humans, in my opinion!). Plus I had a FANATICALLY protective “Coach Dawg”(Dalmation) who functioned as my third parent that–heaven help ANYONE who he even THOUGHT might be a threat to me(quite a few people, other dogs, angry cows and irate pigs got mauled in my honor by him!). No matter the convoluted politics of school and complicated adults, I could escape EVERY DAY to the woods to recover. Still do, in fact. Except that now, as a 6 foot, 200 lb. bipedal primate, anyone or anything that I even THINK is gonna bother my dogs is going to git mauled by ME! Of course, territorial aggression is simply a very natural way for an individual to CREATE a “safe space”.…
Indeed.