What a week. A platform that endangers transgender youth and adults, decimates reproductive freedom, and glorifies violence has been elevated to leadership in all branches of our federal government. Where do we even start (other pragmatic preparations to keep our loved ones safe)?
How we navigate this period isn’t about reaching agreement; it isn’t even about understanding and connection. (And you know how much I love that stuff!) Maureen Walker, a leader in Relational-Cultural Theory, introduces disruptive empathy, a powerful tool that can help us get through moments like this.
Relational-Cultural Theory Gets Real
Disruptive empathy goes beyond the feel-good version of empathy we’re used to. It’s not about making peace; it’s about making space— space for honest, sometimes painful, truths. Walker’s idea of disruptive empathy is radical because it calls us to lean into the discomfort— really lean in. This type of empathy isn’t about “both sides” or “let’s all get along”; it’s about witnessing the raw realities people face and recognizing the weight of harm and fear some of us are carrying right now.
So, how does this help in the wake of an election that’s left many of us feeling gutted? Practicing disruptive empathy means daring to confront the reality of others’ experience, even when it’s deeply unsettling. It’s not a passive stance. Disruptive empathy asks us to bring our full presence to the experiences, pain, and perspectives around us—without smoothing things over or making it palatable. Instead, it’s about bringing our full presence, acknowledging harm, and creating spaces for others to be heard and validated.
Disruptive Empathy calls us to ask, “who do I think I am?,” and stay open to the complex, evolving answers. It invites us to interrogate our own values, and imagine what it might take, what life experiences might have happened, for those values to be different. It asks us to examine parts of ourselves we’ve armored over to compensate for fears and insecurities.
In times like these, disruptive empathy is an act of courage and resilience. It’s a way to connect without minimizing or sugarcoating what’s happening. And it’s a reminder that we can hold our ground while still being deeply present to each other’s pain.
This post-election period may be challenging, and disruptive empathy won’t take away the sting. But it might offer us a path to solidarity— a way to show up for each other as whole, hurting humans. We don’t have to agree, and we don’t have to understand everything. But we can listen. We can disrupt the ease of turning away. And, perhaps, we can find some measure of strength to move forward—together.
I struggle with understanding what Disruptive Empathy looks like in practice. I’m guessing it’s a solo practice at first, until one can find empathy for “the other” at least enough to engage?
Maybe I need to book an appointment with you!
Hi Luci! I think it depends a lot on the circumstances. When I work on it solo, it shifts how I interact/connect with others. Spending time on my own doing it allows me to access aspects of it when I’m in a situation that could result in me escalating or shutting down rather than connecting. While not all situations call for connection, the ones that don’t (and you know me, I’m not talking about coddling connection, but real talk) rarely lead to growth.
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