Recently seeing a road sign, Stonewall Way: Dead End, evoked a memory of the New York City Stonewall Riots. At the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, gay men and women gathered in safety, to dance, to connect. The Stonewall Inn provided a sense of I-am-not-alone, a place of refuge. Then, on June 28, 1969, police raided the Stonewall Inn. They dragged employees and hauled patrons out of the bar onto the pavement. Protests erupted and lasted six days. The Stonewall Riots, also called the Stonewall Uprising, sparked the gay rights movement in the United States and abroad.
In June, 1969, at twenty years old, I summer-vacationed from a liberal arts college where black students hung out with black students, Asians with Asians, where athletes sat together in the dining hall, where the Jews went to their Mishbocha, and the Catholics to the Newman Club. My college claimed its diversity. Yet I wondered, “Why not more integration? What in us gives rise to the instinct to congregate with ‘my people?’”
When I learned of the Stonewall Riots, I then knew how “us and them”, and “we are separate” lead to injustice, even violence. My heart sank. My head woke up. “Ahh, I get it. We go to places where people get us.”
In the 1960s the term, Stonewall Way, might have stood for how so many marginalized groups began to meet openly. With civil rights awareness and marches, that Way was not a dead end. Our collective voices began shouting, “I’m here, too. We belong here also.”
I felt in my body a big, “of course. We need each other. Connection is crucial for survival. Didn’t our ancient ancestors live in tribes? Don’t we grieve in community?”
In the 1990s, in a Master’s program for mental health counseling, I learned of a circle of psychologists and one psychiatrist who met to discuss their clinical work. They noted a common theme. Therapeutic methods and theories did not match their clients’ experiences. Old models posited that the highest mental health happened when human beings individuated into separation, autonomy, mastery, independence and self-sufficiency. Yet, the female clients these therapists saw reported they were happiest and healthiest in mutually empathic, mutually empowering relationships. With this new focus, the therapists created the counseling and training Stone Center at Wellesley College in 1977. They called their self-in-relation theory, “Women’s Growth in Connection.” But this growth was not limited to women. Time, further study and neuroscience have proven that physical, mental and emotional health grow as we nourish bonding, relationships, belonging and connection; men, women, children alike.
Since the 1970s I have explored connection to self, other, nature, spirit. My life and life’s work revolve around this connection axis. And so, I have written essays with stories of relationship. I will post them here. Each essay will speak to ordinary friendships, family tenderness, simple human meetings and how small moments of connection make big movements of the heart.
Each post will end with inquiring questions for you, the reader: How do you recognize connection? Where do you sense it? What does it feel like when it’s not there? What fuels connection for you?
I would love to hear your experiences, your stories. If you write and send them to me at sly313@aol.com, I’ll read and savor them. Let’s connect!
