Systemic Youth Suffering: The Third Noble Truth and the Possibility of Collective Liberation

[TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains information that may be disturbing to survivors of sexual assault.]"For Warmth"by Thich Nhat Hanh(from Zen Poems)I hold my face between my handsno I am not cryingI hold my face between my handsto keep my loneliness warmtwo hands protectingtwo hands nourishingtwo hands to preventmy soul from leaving mein angerAt this moment, I’m writing at the campus of a Bay Area community college. My mind can’t help but wander over to the conversation next to me. Two black youth are talking about class, about their plans for the week, about one of their friends who just got shot.I’m lost in their words. They speak with a mix of tired disbelief and casualness, belying the many layers of suffering embedded within the situation. I wonder how many times they’ve encountered such loss and how it’s affected them. I’m reminded of how often some youth live the violent realities discussed in this series.There is a real urgency to do something about this form of systemic suffering, and to do it now.Interconnected in the Possibility of LiberationThe truth is there has always been a way out of suffering.The Third Noble Truth states that there can be a cessation to suffering. After experiencing the many forms of systemic oppression in our lives, it’s inspiring and imperative to know that there can be an end. However, this truth can often seem elusive, especially when we are confronted with the scope and the intensity of the daily oppression that affect the lives of many youth of color. Additionally, because systemic violence is predicated upon the separation of ourselves from each other, we are often made to feel isolated in our suffering and detached from the collective engagement for liberation. When our attention is focused on the pain, we can lose sight of the possibility for change. Sometimes ending systems of suffering feel impossible.What is empowering about the Third Noble Truth is that, in addition to declaring the possibility for freedom, it connects us to the legacy of others who have felt and suffered deeply, yet who chose to strive for peace. Many have come before us, and many stand with us.A few days ago, I came across an interview with Thich Nhat Hanh on On Being with Krista Tippet. The interview moved me in ways that I didn’t immediately understand. Among many things, Thich Nhat Hanh discussed the Vietnam War and the development of his engaged mindfulness, sharing his views on transforming violence. But it wasn’t until I came across the story of his poem, Call Me by My True Names, that it became clear to me what it was that resonated so deeply: his very real struggles with human suffering and his occasional discouragement. “We try our best to help, but the suffering is enormous and sometimes we are discouraged,” he revealed. Suddenly, his words became relatable in an intimate and vulnerable way.In writing about the conditions surrounding this poem, he shared his pain in reading about the suffering of South East Asian refugee boat people. Specifically, he wrote of his experience learning of the sexual abuse of a young girl. “One day we received a letter telling us about a young girl on a small boat who was raped by a Thai pirate,” he reflects. “She was only twelve, and she jumped into the ocean and drowned herself.” It became exceedingly clear to me that Thay had experienced many of the same stories, differing only by time and place, and heartaches that those who struggle to end systemic forms of suffering are challenged by.I felt a sense of comfort when reading that Thich Nhat Hanh understood what it meant to be angered by the atrocity of systemic suffering. It made him human, and it situated my moments of rage at structural oppression within a shared humanity. Thus, when Thay went on to describe how he directed his anger towards deep understanding, it transformed the Third Noble Truth from an insurmountable endeavor left only to the enlightened few, to an achievable and accessible human goal.“When you first learn of something like that, you get angry at the pirate. You naturally take the side of the girl. As you look more deeply you will see it differently. If you take the side of the little girl, then it is easy. You only have to take a gun and shoot the pirate. But we cannot do that. In my meditation I saw that if I had been born in the village of the pirate and raised in the same conditions as he was, there is a great likelihood that I would become a pirate. I saw that many babies are born along the Gulf of Siam, hundreds every day, and if we educators, social workers, politicians, and others do not do something about the situation, in twenty-five years a number of them will become sea pirates. That is certain. If you or I were born today in those fishing villages, we may become sea pirates in twenty-five years. If you take a gun and shoot the pirate, all of us are to some extent responsible for this state of affairs.”Reading this, I found myself drawn closer to the wisdom in Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings. It was a reminder that “mindfulness” as a term was filled with heart. It was also a reminder that though we are interconnected through our suffering, we are also interconnected in our efforts to achieve liberation. Indeed, Thay’s personal reflection demonstrates that in the struggle to seek an immediate end to systems of social suffering, we are not alone on the journey. Rather, we are surrounded by the wisdom of the Noble Truths and a community of engaged practitioners who walk the same path.--Top Image by Dhilung Kirat. Creative commons license.Thich Nhat Hanh. 1992. Call Me by My True Names. Peace is Every Step: The Path ofMindfulness in Everyday Life. 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Funie Hsu is a Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of California, Davis in the School of Education. She was a former public school teacher in Los Angeles.

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About BPF’s The System Stinks

Buddhist social justice curriculumTo help promote collective liberation and subvert the highly individualistic bent of much mainstream dharma these days, Buddhist Peace Fellowship presents our second year of The System Stinks — a collection of Buddhist social justice media named for the favorite protest sign of one of our founders, Robert Aitken, Roshi.This year, we’ve asked some of our favorite dharma teachers, practitioners, and activists to reflect on the Four Noble Truths — suffering; the causes of suffering; cessation of suffering; and a path to cessation — from a systemic, social justice perspective.Other Buddhist groups from around the world have also used the Four Noble Truths as a lens for social movements: for good examples, the International Network of Engaged Buddhists, and the Sarvodaya movement in Sri Lanka. In a U.S.-based context (not predominantly Buddhist), where mindfulness is increasingly separated from ethics, we are eager to uphold this social justice tradition.If you like what you see, please comment and share to show the world another side of Buddhism!We are deeply grateful to the teachers and practitioners who lend their voices to this cause. In alignment with our media justice values, all contributors to the 2014 series have been offered humble compensation for their work.

You can support engaged Buddhist media makers by donating to BPF.

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