You've all heard of someone who "burnt out." She did too much too fast with too little help, not enough appreciation, insufficient evidence of success. She lost her motivation, her sense of direction, her hope, her energy, and bowed out - with or without grace. Is burnout inevitable? Is it a symptom of the human condition? Or is it a consequence of an imbalanced culture? Would a feminist ethic of mutual respect render burnout a thing of the past?
What is burnout, anyway? What makes it happen? Let's look at a hypothetical dynamo - call her Suzanne. Suzanne gets her energy from the strength of her beliefs. Her ideals may be an affirmation of a fortunate past or a backlash against an unfortunate one. Her economic background could be anywhere from street to mansion, and her actual ideals anywhere from Green to neo-Nazi. What sets her apart from her peers isn't the source or the content of her beliefs, but their overwhelming influence on her life. Suzanne has a dream of the world the way she wants it to be, and a game plan for getting there. She grabs the ball and runs.
What Suzanne doesn't understand is her team. They're not as "intense" as she is, and she allows them that, but doesn't truly understand it in her heart. How can they see the world they want, the progress they're making toward that world, and not be driven to even greater feats? How can they see her stand up for them again and again; see her succeed, gain recognition, accomplish the task at hand - and still be afraid to stand up for one another? What do they think she has that they haven't got? What are they so scared of? What the heck is wrong with these people?
So she asks. The replies are heartbreaking. "I'm nowhere near as smart as you." "I don't have your courage." "I'm not strong enough, organized enough, dedicated enough..." I can't, I can't, I can't.
Suzanne starts to wonder, "What did I do to make these people feel so inferior? Was I rude? Did I use jargon? Pull rank? Act bossy? Why didn't I see myself doing this? Why didn't I stop? I can move a mountain; why can't I get my friends to believe in themselves? Yes, I know, you can't make anyone feel anything. But if there's anyone in this world who could at least inspire these folks, it's me! And if I can't do it, well, it can't be done." The world Suzanne wanted just fell apart at the seams.
Suzanne is a leader, and she knows that you can't lead people who only want to follow. They add nothing to your knowledge, have no will and no ambition, and scatter at the slightest provocation. And no matter what her ideals, she knows that it's impossible to found a world on any ideals when its intended inhabitants are content to borrow the ideals of others. Humanity, decides Suzanne, is hopeless.
All right, what the heck is wrong with those people? And what's wrong with Suzanne?
Let's start with Suzanne's team. They're products of our current culture, with its compartmentalization and stratification inculcated from early infancy. Big brother is the math genius. Lisa next door is the musician. Only Mommy can cook in the kitchen, and only Daddy can cook in the back yard. What Teacher says, goes. What the Church says, goes. What the boss says, goes. You're all right so long as you "know where you stand" - whom you can take out your frustrations on, whom you have to obey, whom is strictly out of bounds. Find out where you "fit in," which pre-defined role is the right one for you, and don't step out of it on pain of complete disorientation and ostracism. Fall out of character for an instant, and you're not just the "bad guy" (since, after all, that's a role too). You're invisible. "Oh, well, we all know what happened to her... So tell me, how are you coping with grad school?" Without a reliable, fool-proof, 24-hour label, people don't know what to do with you, so you simply aren't dealt with. You simply aren't, period.
Suzanne's team are "followers." They've learned from their teachers, priests, appointed "betters," that they're on this planet to do as they're told. They are not, under any circumstances, to take any initiative. They've been told time and again that they don't need to work that hard, that it would just give them ulcers, that others have been provided to bear the burdens of leadership - others who will probably be offended if their followers turn "uppity" and offer their own unique talents. So, they do what they sincerely believe is best for the team and for themselves: sit motionless until specifically told to do this or that thing, and once they've protested sufficiently vehemently that they're unworthy, incompetent, and generally unprepared to do what's asked of them, do it with as little imagination as possible. "Don't want Suzanne to think I'm trying to usurp her place or anything." This way they're safe both from having more asked of them any time soon, and from having to consider the possibility that they're more than just a "follower" and that their pigeonhole might be getting a bit tight...
So what's wrong with Suzanne? The exact same thing. She's got her tidy little category too, "Leader," and damned if she'll duck out. Taking a break, outright telling someone "you're in charge this week," would be concrete and visible proof of unconscionable irresponsibility - and might find Fearless Leader cut loose and drifting without a useful self-definition except for vague and unhelpful references to Benedict Arnold and seasick rats. "Indian giver!"
What makes burnout happen is a lack of both mutual respect and self-respect. Suzanne didn't trust her teammates not to reject her or leave the team if she stopped "leading" them or "wimped out" by handing over any responsibility. The rest of the team didn't trust themselves to do the things that they equate with "leading," and didn't trust the rest of the team not to brand them "leader" (in our culture's current sense of 24-hour on-call scutworker and scapegoat). Without a background of self-respect, people seldom get up the guts to step outside of a limited number of recognized social roles. People who are afraid of defining their own lives can hardly be expected to feel comfortable associating with anyone who, by exhibiting an independent lifestyle, might make them wonder what they've been missing. And, in turn, those otherwise tempted to live independent of culturally sanctioned roles often dilute or abandon their dreams for fear of being shunned.
What if Suzanne and her team had grown up in a feminist environment of mutual respect and self-determination? What if theirs was a world of motorcycle-racing pastry chefs and quilt-designing jackhammer operators? What if pigeonholes were things that birds lived in, and people lived as they pleased? What would happen to Suzanne? Surely her clarity of vision would be helpful to her teammates, but as advice, speaking presentations, publications, companionship to members whose hope was flagging, and outreach to the larger community. Teammate Ted, who in our current world would be a designated "Follower," in a feminist society would find his facility in dealing with the media highly valued on the team. Carolyn's language skills would be put to good use in a regular column in the team's newsletter, and Jack's computer expertise in handling the layout. And Sara, who agrees with the team's goals but doesn't yet know exactly what part she wants to play, would have free rein to try everything from poster art to being the group's liaison with the national equivalent until she found something that suited her well - until something else suited her better. And she'd make phone calls and lick stamps with everybody else. Everybody.
In a feminist culture where everyone had the freedom to say, "I have a right to be who I am, even if that changes periodically or isn't like anyone else," the awkwardness of "leading" and "following" would disappear, because the roles would be interchangeable as people's inclinations and opportunities indicated. When people grow up surrounded by self-determined individuals, the prospects of responsibility and freedom won't frighten people into hiding behind prepackaged social roles. Feminist culture is indeed the cure for burnout.
Reprinted with permission from:
Faces of the Goddess
c/o Siannan NiAoidh
12001 Ehrlich Rd.
Crows Landing, CA 95313
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