The quote by Gandhi, “Be the change that you wish to see in the world” has inspired many of us at one point or another as scholars and practitioners of the conflict analysis and resolution (CAR) field. We may in fact have even considered that we as conflict analysts and peacemakers possess the knowledge and skills to offer positive ‘change’ to the world with careers ranging from work in post-conflict societies to mediating family conflict. But how much do we incorporate notions of peace in our everyday lives? Can true authenticity be compartmentalized between professional and personal life?
I will be honest and admit that although I have obtained the skills and processes to improve inter-personal communication in order to manage conflict constructively, I still, to this day, lose my temper with loved ones over the slightest issues. Even though I was raised in a Lebanese-Italian household where raising your voice was considered just a ‘passionate’ way of expressing your opinion, it is not a way of communication that I accept in my CAR practice, so why should I allow it in my personal practice—shouldn’t I be practicing what I preach? This reflection led me to discover that in order for me to be the change I wish to see in the world, first, I too must undergo change. I am not arguing that every CAR practitioner has communication issues like I do, but perhaps some have difficulty with trusting others. Others may even face a deep distrust of themselves and their own abilities. Perhaps the central question that must be addressed is: how can we promote trust building as 3rd party interveners if we ourselves cannot trust?
In this way, we must recognize that we as scholars and practitioners need to address our own shortcomings when it comes to promoting peace in our personal lives if we hope to help others in the world. Furthermore, I believe it is essential to recognize the gaps in practice and philosophy that exist between our professional, academic, and personal lives. One way to do this would be to employ the art of reflective practice, a skill as tacit as it is self-acquired.
I would like to emphasize the fact that reflective practice is truly an art. It is not a skill that you can just learn about in a textbook or lecture; reflective practice must come from within and be fully embraced by the participant, even if it involves personal struggle. This sense of struggle can be linked to what Thomas Kuhn describes as “acute personal distress” that occurs when one is faced with something that goes against what they perceive to be as ‘truth’ or reality.1 A moment of uncertainty often follows this shift in perception and may cause one to reject the new ideas presented to them. It is in this moment, however, that we as scholars, as practitioners, and as human beings have the power to channel our struggle with uncertainty into moments of curiosity and imagination. Reflection provides a space in which uncertainty, curiosity, and imagination can all be explored.
The School for Conflict Analysis and Resolution at George Mason University requires all students to enroll in a reflective practice course. As a student who has experienced the class firsthand, there were several instances in which I was prompted to reflect on my practice. For instance, during a critique in a simulation where I had to facilitate a dialogue in a school-wide conflict, it was brought to my attention that I tend to be too quick to offer solutions to the disputing parties. As a perfectionist, I immediately rejected this notion and began explaining my reasoning behind my actions. I continued to struggle with this idea for several days and tried to reflect on why I was so focused on solutions. I engaged in curiosity and realized that perhaps my quickness to offer solutions came from years of working in customer service where if you are not offering something (to someone) your parties will become disgruntled. I learned to associate this absence of outward action with uncertainty and the eventual onset of anxiety that surfaces if this absence was not immediately addressed. With this direct insight, I began to explore how this action has also affected my personal life—insisting upon my solutions rather than listening to what others may have to suggest. Since this insight, I have made great efforts in imagining an alternative—fielding questions to guide people to the answers they seek. Seeking to empower through facilitation has afforded me direct roles in what has many times been a better transformation process.
Now, at this point, you may be thinking, so what?! My little story on how reflective practice has affected me in my academic, professional and personal practice may not appear directly relevant to other practitioners. But it brings about another point that reflective practice is not just something that we engage in individually. Sharing our reflections with our dearest friends and/or colleagues is a way that we can learn about ourselves from one another. We see this practice in the CAR field in a variety of ways whether through a formal debrief after an intervention, or casual discussion over coffee. These exchanges should be encouraged more within the field especially amongst aspiring practitioners since there are few courses and opportunities that foster reflective questions and discussions around who we are as people and how that influences our practice (recognizing both the strengths and challenges). This reflective (and collaborative) learning amongst peers also builds a foundation for a collective where we can allow ourselves to be vulnerable and share our insecurities and fears within the CAR field, and within ourselves.
- Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 3rd ed. (Chicago: Chicago Press, 1995), et al. [↩]