My mom recently retired from her public sector job after 37 years of service! For as long as I can remember, she has felt the 'burden' of family and her work literally 'on her shoulders' (and in her heart, head, gut--- I truly don't know a single part of her that didn't feel this responsibility or 'burden' intensely all day everyday). A few years ago, she would have fought me tooth and nail for saying this out loud. But these past few months of retirement, especially after a bit of traveling and exploring hobbies (likely the first time in forever, doing things not for anyone else), she might very unwillingly agree--- if I replaced 'burden' with a less harsh word; perhaps 'restraint'.
Cut to me: even when I did 16 hour work days and was intensely committed to my work, I could very easily snap in a minute and say "not my circus, not my monkey", and let go when things go above my head. I am so good at quitting that 2.6 years is the longest I have to show for any place I have stuck to. Not that I didn't inherit my mom's people-pleasing though--- most people I have worked with and moved on from have very pleasant memories and can tell you I 'go above and beyond'. Maybe that's why I burn out and leave places also. People who can get to "not my circus, not my monkey" sooner than me are perhaps stronger, more equanimous, more self-aware, and just overall better with boundaries than me.
As you can imagine, the overthinker in me rightfully wonders if she is wrong to be this much of a quitter some days; and on other days blames self for not quitting sooner or at least for not quiet-quitting or setting boundaries. In recent years, I have truly cherished and appreciated all the conversations about work-life balance, work-life harmony, "the meaning of work", etc, and I am always keen to hear more and different perspectives!
In one of my recent conversations with a senior person I deeply admire, she said "not my sink, not my dishes" (you wouldn't know this about me but it is very typical of me to choose her words over mine for my title :D). It is going to stick with me for a while! To be fair, she didn't say this in the context of work-life balance--- she said this in the context of standing up at work against something you recognise as wrong or unjust or simply inaccurate: a tangential but equally, if not more significant cause of burnout at work, especially if like us you work in the 'social impact' space.
So, how is "not my sink, not my dishes" different from "not my circus, not my monkey" you ask? Maybe you don't ask :) But of course, I am going to go ahead and tell what I think is the difference (and would love to be challenged or reassured that I am not overthinking this or at least I am not off in my overthinking!).
- A few weeks ago, I reached out to a social enterprise working in the AI literacy space and offered to volunteer some time with them. They sent me their upcoming course content and it was riddled with inaccuracies-- it was being offered at an affordable price but in my head it was simply riding the "hype" wave instead of spread real, useful information. This enterprise is led by someone twice my age with half my melanin and definitely less than half my estrogen. I decided not to engage and simply withdrew my offer to volunteer under the pretext that something had come up for me personally. In my head this is an instance of "not my circus, not my monkey", as well as an instance of "not my sink, not my dishes".
- A couple months ago, someone at our workplace was sharing their experience at a climate conference--- apparently an 'urban elite' (their words, not mine) man dressed in pink read a poetry and almost tore up; our colleague was thinking it wouldn't go down very well but it was very well received by the audience at the event! The senior person I deeply admire immediately interjected and asked "do you think a woman dressed in pink and tearing up while reading a poetry would've provoked the same emotions in the audience?". I loved it! We both agree that this is an example of an instance where it was very much "our circus" or "our sink". Okay, maybe not completely: for me, it was "my circus" because it is my workplace, it is someone I work with closely-- I have a responsibility, even if a shared responsibility. But for me, "my sink" suggests a little bit more ownership than that, even accountability: at the end of the day, if this sink is dirty, is this going to come down to you? In this case, the said senior person indirectly manages the person who was sharing at our workplace. I don't have reason to believe that she'd not have interjected if it was someone else, but I do have reason to believe maybe she'd not have done so with the same rigor.
That right there is what I worry about: it's great that we now have language for things like people-pleasing and gaslighting--- the little acts of inhumanity that we inflict upon ourselves and others that kill us just a little every consecutive time. But by getting very strict about "what is my responsibility? what am I accountable for? who owns this? can I really affect meaningful change here?" are we somehow starting to disengage and care a little (or even a lot) less as a humanity?
I am definitely not the first person to speak about this "empathy fatigue". But I think there is something about how even the kindest of us have started to respond to and cope with "empathy fatigue" that scares me just a little (or maybe a lot).
I read (or actually listened to) Algorithmic Justice League a few months ago. Joy Buolamwini talks about the number of times she refused the 'call to action' to fight about or even talk about the algorithmic injustices she was observing as a black woman in tech. Her supervisor nudged her to be more open about it; she had loads of support; and she even heard another female scientist visit her university and talk about it before she started talking about it. I wonder and fear if her supervisor, the other female scientist, and the range of colleagues whose 'shoulders' Joy and the Algorithmic Justice League stands on, could in a parallel universe choose not to speak, inspire, or nudge, because "it is not their sink, not their dishes". I wonder if there is a case to be made to say that we should, where we can, choose to hold some burden of others and the world on our shoulders too--- even if it is not burden that we think will ultimately affect us (our sink) or burden that we believe we created (our dishes).
I definitely overthought that last line quite a bit because
- in today's interconnected world, isn't it almost blind to assume anything will not affect us (not end up in our sink) ultimately! I am currently reading 'Ministry of the Future' and while I don't know where this book will go and if I will enjoy it ultimately, one thing that I do like about it already is it introduces climate change and its effects in India--- but not from the lens that the West should "empathise" with India but rather also that the West should worry about how India will respond to this. I think that's spot on!
- secondly, having worked in charity for at least a few years now, I strongly believe that "if we're in a place to give, we've or our ancestors have at some point taken what's not theirs to begin with". All charity is a form of debt repayment as much as it will hurt our egos to fully embrace the truth of this--- although I believe 'the pedagogy of oppressed' (recommended to me by the wonderful @saujanya) made this case over 50 years ago!
So, really, can we actually honestly say that anything qualifies as "not our sink, not our dishes"? I think we're a teeny bit safer with "not our circus, not our monkey" because once again it doesn't help evade responsibility completely; just when it's not a thing you own or a person you are accountable for, it helps you draw a boundary and say "well, I tried".
At least that's where I am at right at this moment in time. I am not yet ready to be able to completely shut my eyes and ears to things that don't feel 'changeable' right at this moment in time. Idealist much?