The Poetics of Discomfort

A place to find oneself and others

A few weeks ago, I once again had the privilege to join the more than 50 adolescents and young people that make up the Red META network, who gathered to discuss not only their human rights, but also -and perhaps even more so- their human desires.

I have stated elsewhere that what I find most interesting in this beautiful practice of listening and talking to the young people of META is the fact that they give me the chance to question myself -and question with them- some of the fictions, paradoxes and misfortunes that intrude on human experience, making the labels we use to distinguish “normal” from “different” ironic. The voices of the young usually rebel against labels and the prevalent conventions, allowing them to see things in a different light, in different words.

The First Forum of Youth for Inclusive Education brought together young people between the ages of 14 and 30 from various parts of Argentina (Buenos Aires, Chubut, Córdoba, Entre Ríos, Salta and Santa Fe) and Uruguay. Going beyond the differences among them, which began to unfold with the passing of the hours, I noticed there were a few things that made them feel that they were all in the same (human) boat.

The first thing was a clear awareness of the socioeconomic factors that mark and determine their daily lives, as much as –or even more – than the experiences directly related to their disabilities. A lack of resources, the challenges involved in being recognized, poor education, low expectations and the reduced autonomy they experience constantly intersect and cause difficulties in their lives.

A strong, shared feeling of loneliness emerged as another common denominator. I sensed this through the gratitude that they expressed for being there, for the simple – but rare – opportunity to belong and to be accepted. Most of them had come to the forum alone, feeling fearful, not knowing what exactly they would find, but they were willing to travel for hours over long distances to try and experience the magic of connection. Thomas Hobbes, the father of modern political philosophy, said life outside society would be ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short’.

A fan on a hot day

In the two days we spent together there was a constant, relentless flow of joy, jokes and laughter, which reached its peak during the poetry and psychodrama workshops.

To see that an unexpected sense of humor and poetic vitality can emerge from such a hard experience as that of loneliness- and I have seen it happen many a time- speaks of a wonderful and unanticipated type of intelligence, about a form of courage that generally remains unknown to us and to whose calming effect we rarely have access.

Austrian-American psychoanalyst Theodor Reik, a disciple of Freud, said humor demystifies suffering, bringing relief. Though it is true that humor in itself does not solve problems and that the relief it brings is fleeting, it is no small matter to have something that helps us recover a bit and regulate our feelings of angst until the storm has passed.

I marveled in these moments, and remembered the quote by Freud that goes something like: humor is like a fan on a hot day.

The youngster who said ‘no’

When we were about to leave, an unexpectedly harsh message was sent to the WhatsApp group that the young participants had created for the event. It came from a 15-year-old teenage boy with autism, who had traveled around 8 hours to get to the forum.

It is likely that this young man –and many of the other participants – had traveled without a clear idea of what he was getting into. The thing is that not everybody is ready to open up and we are not always able to connect with others. I had realized he was having a hard time on the first day, despite the efforts of the group to integrate him, or at least to draw him in. The situation got even worse on the second day, when participants who particularly stood out made him feel relegated and pushed aside from the sometimes privileged space occupied by those who are different.

He couldn’t take it, and early in the afternoon, he and his dad walked out the door and onto the cold street. A few hours later he sent one final message to the group before leaving it: “You’re all a bunch of jerks.”

His text, full of pain and frustration, resonated bitterly in me for hours. I thought about him and his dad, driving those 8 hours back home, in silence, alone, empty and frustrated. But then I thought more about it and I understood that he had achieved his mission: to challenge the comfortable harmony and consensus of the meeting. In his own way, he reminded us that utopias are there to make us keep moving forward. That is why it is essential they don’t materialize, so that we can keep thinking, feeling uncomfortable and staying open.

Translation: Virginia Ossana (META Argentina), Stephanie Wildes