The Wrong Table

"If life has left me hungry, it's probably not for lack of food. Rather, it's likely because I'm eating the wrong food at the wrong table." — Craig D. Lounsbrough

In November I attended Assembly, an art event in Stoke-on-Trent. It was an art event with an activism edge, of course. Could we even name something as art if it doesn't provoke? The artist by his/her very existence and practice is an activist. Those who are not, I'd argue, are not artists but artefact-makers, craftsfolk, artisans. Brilliant and skilled perhaps, but serving a different purpose in the world. Craft reassures. Art rather does the opposite: it creates discomfort.

Assembly was a day of talks and workshops. One presentation and some of the following discussion focused on the marginalisation of art, and quite naturally, because the room was full of activists, on the marginalisation of minority groups, and very especially on the marginalisation of minority artists. Taking one's place at the table was the theme: What do you want to bring to the table? What's already on the table? Can you reach the table? How do you "shake the table"?

I started to wonder if these were the right questions to ask. Flashing back to conversations I've had in coaching circles about "meeting people where they are" I found the same concern arising. Where people in the business world are is usually a toxic place, a dubious comfort zone, free of challenge. You can meet them there, and when you leave they'll still be there. Change won't occur because it's the wrong place for change. It is the place for sameness.

And likewise, the table at which people strive to "take their place" is likely to be the wrong table. Whether in the corporate world, research, academia or non-profits it is the table of an elitist, imbalanced, oppressive system, its occupants upholders of that system. The table won't change as different people join. The table will similarise those people, correct and adjust them to its own ends. The table neutralises.

I observe, for example, women in the corporate world fighting for their place at the table, and once permitted to join (it's always by permission) they become as men. Having a woman CEO does not create a matriarchy, and does nothing to address the imbalance of power. The status quo remains as it ever was: a patriarchy, male and white. The same is likely true when a member of any minority group joins the board room table, whether in the minority by birth or by choice. The system prevails, and the individual spirit is absorbed.

The sex life of the angler fish offers a chilling analogy for this phenomenon.

When ceratioid males go looking for love, they follow a species-specific pheromone to a female, who will often aid their search further by flashing her bioluminescent lure. Once the male finds a suitable mate, he bites into her belly and latches on until his body fuses with hers. Their skin joins together, and so do their blood vessels, which allows the male to take all the nutrients he needs from his host/mate's blood. The two fish essentially become one.
With his body attached to hers like this, the male doesn't have to trouble himself with things like seeing or swimming or eating like a normal fish. The body parts he doesn't need anymore—eyes, fins, and some internal organs—atrophy, degenerate and wither away, until he's little more than a lump of flesh hanging from the female, taking food from her and providing sperm whenever she's ready to spawn. *

We need to stop talking about coming to the table. There are other approaches to having the minority voice heard, much tougher ways for sure, but ultimately more effective. Change never comes through absorption. If the status quo is water, change must be oil.

Turning to scripture I am reminded that Jesus didn't seek a place at the table. The Table then as now was a symbol of privilege, of caste and hierarchy, where everyone knew their place and order was maintained. Instead of seeking a place at that table Jesus made a new table. First, the table of sinners and tax collectors, a table with no order, no tradition, a subversive table, on the margins of society. Secondly Jesus created the table of fellowship, the table of the new covenant, where the first shall be last and the last first. An utter upturning of societal mores.

When Jesus sat with sinners, the establishment upholders came to look. They came to condemn, yes, but they came nonetheless. And they saw. If Jesus had asked for a place at their table, they may have granted one, a lowly one no doubt, and nothing would have changed. Jesus did not come to the table. Jesus made a new table. As artists, as activists, as change-makers, this is our model then. Make a new table. Make the right table.

* mentalfloss.com/article/57800/horrors-anglerfish-mating

November News

It is the coming of November that reminds me of the rapid passing of time. More than the other eleven it is the month of change, of trees stripped bare, leaves on the railway lines causing delay, fireworks, smoke, rapidly descending darkness and a chill in the air. November is the announcement of scarves and gloves and soup, my kind of clothing, my kind of warmth.

Earlier in the month I ran my very first scripture workshop, a full day's exploration of Mark's gospel in relation to organisational transformation. You can read about it here and listen to a podcast made by one of the attendees here. One of the other participants described the approach as "change management with soul". I particularly liked that. I'll be offering the workshop again in February.

My Stoke Assembly experience, apart from its challenging questions, included awakening workshops on abundance, movement and mental health, and the beginnings of at least two new, potentially rich relationships which you may hear more about in 2020.

November also saw our au pair hunt begin, and complete very swiftly. With me spending so much time away from home, and both of us engaged in study at this time we decided it would be good to have help. We also like the idea of opening our home to someone seeking a new experience. We have found a lovely young French woman, Charlotte, to move in just after Christmas. We've been getting to know each other better through the exchange of ideas and photographs. And so, a new adventure begins.

If December makes you sad, with it's short days and long nights, remember that on the solstice the turn-around begins. Even before Christmas the days start lengthening again, and spring waves hello from the far horizon. Be still, and watch. You'll see it.

Enjoy whatever thing you celebrate in this coming month, even if just the ice maiden air on your cold nose, and the toast crunch of dry snow underfoot. Happy sniffles.

Tobias


1st December 2019, 1.00 am