
By Diane luetgeb munson
Many families with children have a special place in their home reserved for a common disciplinary measure, the “time out.” It is often a chair, a corner, or a room for children to sit and contemplate their actions until they have cooled off and apologized.
At my best friends’ house as a child, instead of the lonely corner, we were sent in duos or groups to the “friendship bench.” This innovative model of discipline was some of my first experience with nonviolent conflict resolution. The bench was a place to sit with and talk to the person you had wronged, to ask forgiveness and to come to a fresh place together. I spent some quality time on that bench, if you can imagine, and was most often the one doing the apologizing.
Living in a Catholic Worker house with many people from many backgrounds makes conflict resolution a necessary and regular task, much like any other large household. We have long been proud, and yet not surprised, by the lack of violence within the Dan Corcoran and Bethany Houses. There are good reasons for a track record that is not too common in shelters or even in other Catholic Worker houses. The largest parts of the equation seem to be creating an atmosphere of respect for all people combined with the constant work of modeling good communication. Patience is also helpful. In addition, attention to friction between guests or community members allows for a fair number of potentially rough situations to be addressed and resolved before they erupt.
Many of our guests come from backgrounds that have unfortunately exposed them to violence in a myriad of ways- from their homes to the street, from the battlefield to prison. Surprisingly, however, many people who do not grow up experiencing violence are absorb it through their televisions in alarming ways. Truly, no one is able to live in a world free from the reality of people harming one another. Despite the constant bombardment, be it through memory or media, we have often witnessed the transformative work of nonviolence within our houses.
A few years ago we had a rather heated conflict between two guests at the Bethany House over a bicycle. Like most of the day-to-day arguments that any of us have, the article in question was rather insignificant and in this case did not belong to either of the people arguing over it. As accusations and then threats started flying, I, along with my community members, Becky and Michael, managed to corral the two parties to the table.
Our dining room table is as close as we may ever come to a friendship bench in the Bethany House- in addition to sharing our meals there; the diversity of opinions unearthed by conversation is often laid out on that large simple table. It is where we come together as a household to break bread; a place everyone is equal as we come together to share in one of our most basic human needs.
At this point in the conflict, the guests were not only angry but well beyond the size that could have been contained by our scrawny communal arms. We did not want to see anyone, including ourselves in the middle of a fight. With a bit of composure and with a lot of communal support, we were all able to wade through a dialogue, which involved each of the guests sharing their perspective on the situation, while the opposite party listened. We also allowed for a fair amount of silence, and distilled the events of the day into a determination that neither party was either right or wrong. What was clear was that both men were in dire need of individually giving and receiving apologies, which was achieved before we left the table. And then life went on, as we all continued to live under the same roof for quite some time.
Like many philosophies, nonviolence is both visible and applicable on an infinite number of levels. While we use the word to explain how we have managed to keep the Catholic Worker a safe and welcoming place, we have all heard about the strengths of nonviolence in larger struggles.
Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. are often quoted icons of nonviolence and are perhaps the most recognizable due to their “success” in achieving their goals without aggression or weaponry. However, there are countless others who, by choice or necessity, have taken up a cause and decided to address their opponents with only the utmost respect and civility. Villagers in remote areas of Palestine have confronted occupation with nonviolence for years.
Along our own southern border, many have fought discriminatory immigration policies by aiding those who have recently come to the country simply by providing food, shelter and transportation. Endless numbers of people have struggled to demonstrate to our government and our communities that war is never necessary, and in doing so have been ridiculed, arrested and jailed. People the world over have used the power nonviolence to resist injustice for as long as there have been injustices, and the struggle continues.
Nonviolence is a beautiful idea, and an even greater skill to practice. None of us will ever do it as well as we would like, because it is impossibly hard. Being nonviolent does not just mean that you must go to jail for protesting wars. It goes beyond simply restraining from physically hurting others, which is where the real challenge comes in. In striving to live nonviolently, one is making an attempt to be respectful of others, at all times, and to make an effort to stop violence and injustice whenever possible. But, many of us who proudly proclaim to live nonviolently continue to tell jokes at others’ expense, struggle to treat our partners and loved ones as kindly as we should, and avoid confrontation rather than resolve a disagreement.
Perhaps that biggest consolation is that a small effort can make a big impact. Those who offer hospitality in Catholic Worker houses are not typically looking for life changing results or they would likely not stay for very long. Nonviolence, however, can move mountains- or at least very large tempers on the verge of disastrous choices. In an environment where people feel safe and welcome, they most often make others feel the same. The Catholic Worker has the undeniable gift of clean, beautiful space and generous, kind volunteers to give people a place to let down their guard and embrace nonviolence on a personal level, which is where it must always begin.