What might educators learn from practitioners of conflict mediation and transformative justice? What does it look like to enact “beloved community” in our classrooms, organizations, and movements? What should teachers and learners do to better align our ideals of justice and equity with our day-to-day practices?

Peace educator and nonviolence practitioner Kazu Haga joins us to reflect on these questions and more. The author of Healing Resistance: A Radically Different Response to Harm (2020), Kazu has spent 20+ training communities in practices of conflict reconciliation, harm reduction, and nonviolent action. As the founder of the East Point Peace Academy, and now as a core member of the Ahimsa Collective and the Embodiment Project, he has taught restorative practices to high schools and youth groups, prisons and jails, and numerous activist and social movement organizations around the world. He is the recipient of several awards, including a Martin Luther King, Jr. Award from the Fellowship of Reconciliation and the Gil Lopez Award for Peacemaking. His next book, Fierce Vulnerability: Direct Action that Heals and Transforms, will be published in August 2024.

Credits:

Co-hosted and co-produced by Tina Pippin and Lucia Hulsether

Audio editor: Aliyah Harris

Intro music by Lance Hogan, performed by Aviva and the Flying Penguins

Outro music by Akrasis

Healing Resistance: Pedagogies of Nonviolence with Kazu Haga

Kazu discusses the individual and systemic work necessary to prepare for social change and face the legacies of violence. He shares stories of the hard work of restorative justice in prisons, in non profits, in global movements. Community and coalition building can also be spaces of trauma and harm, and Kazu dives into the obstacles and possibilities of the concept of Beloved Community.

He encourages us to step into scary places with courage. Welcome, Kazu Haga, to Nothing Never Happens.

Kazu Haga: Yeah, so thanks so much for having me. Really good to be here. Um, there's, there's a lot of things that's happened in my life that's contributed to the work that I do now and my role as a teacher, educator in some way, a trainer.

And my, my family was actually disowned. My mother was disowned from that side of the family when I was seven years old which is how we ended up moving to the United States. So we... Lost our connection with that side of the family for a good 15 years of my life. But I just find it so funny that the universe has a way of coming back full circle, and I'm now doing this work that's very connected to Tolstoy in some ways, and doing this work in education.

Um, but the, I think the main thing is when I was 17 years old, I took part in a project called the Interfaith Pilgrimage of the Middle Passage. And this was a walking pilgrimage that was sponsored by a Japanese Buddhist monastic order. And initiated by Sister Clare Carter, who was a white American nun from that order, and her friend Ingrid Askew, who was an African American artist activist.

And. You know, as a 17 year old kid, I'd never done anything like that, but I was just in a place in my life where I was so bored and I was doing nothing with myself. And I heard about this pilgrimage like a week before it started. And on a whim, I told my mom that I would go on it for just the first week.

It's still very much because of the genocide of indigenous peoples and the enslavement of African peoples and all that history is still with us today. And so, you know, being on that journey, it really reminded me of, um, my friend Carlos Saavedra always has this thing where he says that history is not something you consume, it's something you have a relationship with.

So really grateful for that. And that's really the thing that set me off on this journey, what, over 20 some odd years ago now. Yeah, and

Tina Pippin: from there, uh, you were able to do a deep dive into the Kingian, uh, Martin Luther King Jr. principles of, um, nonviolence, social change, direct action, all of that. So could you outline for our listeners, uh, What that journey has been, um, into, into King's philosophy.

Kazu Haga: Yeah, you know, the, the Kingian nonviolence philosophy has become the foundation, like the lens through which I view the world, but it actually took another 10 years or so. For me to find it, you know, when it came back. So when I went on the pilgrimage, I spent six months going to New Orleans and then spent a year living in those monasteries.

King by some of his closest allies in the movement. And, you know, by then I had been doing nothing but social change work for 10 years of my life. That's all I've ever done with my, as a, as an adult. And so I thought I had some idea of what the word nonviolence meant and had some idea of who Dr. King was.

I think it really helped that. You know, it was a little tragic, but three months or so after I took that workshop, when my mind was just on fire about understanding nonviolence, a young African American man named Oscar Grant was shot and killed by the transit police in Oakland, California, where I live.

And so I... I remember in that movement trying to advocate for this newfound understanding of nonviolence. But because I was so new to it, I couldn't quite articulate it. So I realized that I needed to better understand it. And so that summer I traveled to the University of Rhode Island and met Dr. Bernard Lafayette, who was the co author of the King Game curriculum, and studied under him and became a trainer in King Game nonviolence.

Lucia Hulsether: That's really, that's really great. I'm curious to hear more about kind of how this philosophy and approach influences the trainings, um, and teaching is just various kind of teaching projects that that you do, whether that's, um, in groups and prisons and workshops, um, can you tell us a little bit about kind of how this is manifested in your concrete teaching practices?

Kazu Haga:

To to learn more about this philosophy. Every time I taught, I understood it better. It was a great classroom for me, like to have to force myself to find different ways to talk about it, um, to respond to the questions that came from the audience, things like that. And I think one of the things that I realized about the philosophy is.

At the core of the philosophy, the essence of nonviolence is this unwavering commitment to what Dr. King called beloved community, or what, you know, I, I, I spent a lot of time being influenced by, by Buddhist teachings. And so in Buddhism, we might call interdependence or anatta. This idea that. All life is so deeply interwoven with each other that there is no such thing as individual liberation.

But all of that is guided by this idea that if I want to heal, then I have to support the healing of everyone around me, including those that I, uh, disagree with, those that I, you know, uh, before used to see as my quote unquote enemy. Um, and so I think that's, that's a central teaching of nonviolence.

Tina Pippin: Yeah.

What are the obstacles and how have you worked through them in some concrete ways?

Kazu Haga: Yeah, I think there's a lot of obstacles. I think one of the biggest obstacles right now is, you know, a lot of the work that I'm doing right now has to do with understanding collective trauma and understanding how all of us as individuals carry trauma, whether it's our own personal trauma or generational trauma.

That when you see an inability to hold nuance as a society, when you see extreme polarization. When you see really heightened emotions and really strong and imaging and things like that, those are all signs of a trauma response, like when our trauma response is triggered, everything becomes black and white and we go into the survival mode.

And I think that's a lot of what's happening throughout society and certainly in our movement spaces. And so a lot of what I see in our movement spaces is that because we. Oftentimes lack awareness about what's happening in our bodies, both individually and collectively, we're turning that trauma on each other and we're causing a lot of harm within movement spaces that is incredibly damaging.

I feel like so many movements are spending like 90 percent of our effort just managing conflicts that are internal to our movements. And I think that's not healthy, right? There's a certain amount that we have to accept that that actually is the work is to figure out how to be with our own people. But I think because of so much Collective trauma that we are unaware of, we really turn that inward and are infighting way too much.

Lucia Hulsether: This is a topic and a sort of thread of conversation that has come up repeatedly in a lot of our recent podcasts, which is about, um, kind of group process, self critique, and Difficult and difficult dynamics and conflict among groups that at least think that they are on the same page or engaged in an overlapping or shared struggle.

So any any concrete examples you could you could provide would be amazing.

Kazu Haga: I think I want to start with the pep work because as a facilitator who does RJ work restorative justice work, I think I know that I did a great job when I show up to the actual dialogue between the actual parties and I don't have to say a word. Right. When we do what are known as victim offender dialogues, which are dialogues between incarcerated people and the people that they hurt.

And because we live in such a goal oriented society, I've seen a lot of. Restorative justice processes and a rush to bring the two sides together before they're perhaps ready to and I think the biggest part of the work, even if I'm in a in a conflict myself, the biggest part of the work that I can do is to make sure that I'm ready to show up for the dialogue in a good way so that when I'm there.

And those are the three things that are really necessary to support a difficult dialogue in going well. And my theory is that of those three things, relationship structure and skill, you need at least two of those. Three things to be present for a difficult conversation to go well. So when you're in a conflict or when you're mediating a conflict.

So now you have the relationship and the structure. If, um, two people are really skilled, but they don't have a lot of relationship, then what kind of structure can you bring in to really heighten and strengthen the relationship? And so by trying to assess like, okay, is the relationship there? How skilled are they?

How much structure do you need? And based on what's missing, you can adjust the other two. And so that's a really concrete tool that I found to be really useful in helping to create, um, space for actual dialogue.

Kazu Haga: Yeah, no, I got lots of stories. Um, I think the, the dialogue that I got to be a part of that I continue to think back to the most was a dialogue between Richard and Cynthia. Richard is an incarcerated person serving a life sentence for a homicide that he committed over 20 years ago. And Cynthia is the mother of the young man that he killed.

And we finally stood up and he turned the corner into the hallway where he saw Cynthia on the other side at the end of the hallway. And as soon as he saw Cynthia, he just completely broke down and almost just collapsed on the floor. And I remember watching Cynthia just slowly stand up and open her arms.

Moments in that dialogue that was just magic. There was a moment when Cynthia was holding Richard's hands, and she said, I had a dream the other night that I needed to hold your hands because these are the hands that took my son's life away, and I needed to have a different relationship with them. Now there's this moment where Richard took off, they're both indigenous, and Richard took off his hands.

It's his medicine pouch that he always wore with him for years and years in the prison he wore with him. And he gave it to Cynthia because he said that he wanted to have a different relationship with her and wanted to gift her something. And, you know, all of these magical things happen for eight hours straight and it's dialogues like that that make me really believe in our resilience as human beings and what's possible.

And then I think about Cynthia and Richard. And I'm like, okay, that's possible, then healing at any level, at any scale on any instance of harm, I think is possible. And so I always think of that story to kind of renew my faith in humanity and what we're capable of, you know.

Lucia Hulsether: Azu, would you say more about what the prep work for that conversation or other conversations entailed? I'm, because obviously there was, there must have been so much that had to go into even getting into that room.

But oftentimes it's not that easy. A lot of it is just slowing both parties down to really listen. And to really hear their stories and to validate everything they are feeling and everything they are going through. I have this philosophy that if you are able to slow down enough to hear someone's story, then everything they do makes sense.

I think because of that, that tendency to label people in our society, they've never been validated for the experiences that they've had of being harmed. You know, uh, Mariam Kaba, who's a transformative justice activist says that nobody enters violence for the first time by committing it. And so by giving space for people to share their story and for us to be able to validate The complete wholeness of who they are.

Who did the harm and who experienced the harm and can get to this nuanced place of just acknowledging that There is harm present, that we are all hurting here, that there's no way to live in this oppressive society that we live in, without being impacted by that, without having our soul impacted by the injustice and the violence and the destruction and the isolation and everything that we live with as human beings, and I think the work that we do is about that.

Tina Pippin: Right?

Yeah. And, and you do this work with, um, in prisons. Uh, how did you come to Get into that work. Um, you know, doing the work in prisons.

Kazu Haga: Yeah, I mean, it started with the Middle Passage pilgrimage, right? Because that pilgrimage was all about not just what happened during enslavement, but what is the living legacy of that.

And on that pilgrimage, I remember we stopped at several prisons along the route, and I offered prayers outside of the prisons and talked about how prisons is, in so many ways, an extension of the new Jim Crow, which is an extension of the slave system. And so, I always had this understanding that if we are going to heal any of the wounds of racism that manifest today, we have to go all the way back and understand those lineages.

And who better to lead a movement to change the culture of violence in this society than those people? And so I think the work to empower and uplift the stories and the voices of incarcerated people is a really critical part of the story if we're going to create a culture of peace in our society.

Lucia Hulsether: Absolutely. We're talking a lot right now about kind of cultivating a kind of empathy of nonviolence towards towards people who experience harm, which that is all of us, and who, who do harm, which is all of us.

You also talk about in your book righteous indignation and cultivating righteous indignation as part of this work of nonviolence and transformation. I'm curious about how anger and And righteous indignation in your words, um, fits overlaps with and relates to this work of ahimsa nonviolence, um, and, and, and radical hair.

I think that's really dangerous because, you know, you just said, like, we've all experienced harm. And righteous indignation, like indignation is a righteous response, particularly to witnessing harm as a result of injustice. Right? And I think it's really important that we not cast judgment on our anger and end up repressing it.

And I think it's really important that movements do a better job creating more and more safe containers for our anger to emerge so that What oftentimes feels like blind rage and fury, like this dangerous anger that can burn down everything in its path can kind of settle down into charcoal and it's those charcoals that we bring into the streets with us because it's much more charcoal is much more contained and we can control the uses of it right but it still connects us with this really powerful force I think what's really important when we work with rage and when we work with anger Right.

And we are putting our bodies on the line because we want to protect those things. The things, the people, the values that matter to us. And I think that is a skillful use of anger that we need to be better at, definitely within nonviolent communities. Um, because again, because of the misnomer that nonviolence is about teaching people not to be angry, I think we're not always good at cultivating, um, what, what I think is a really important and powerful emotion.

You know, hopeful that there's, there's a way you just have to, um, spend the time, uh, and the work to wait for those, you know, cracks in the dominant structure or whatever to, um, emerge.

It lifts this burden and it opens up this, this wealth of possibilities. So I do not think that there is any conflict that we are incapable of resolving. Once we remember that we have generations and generations that's going to come after us, that's going to continue to work. I will say that, um, I've come around on the climate crisis.

And in a lot of the communities that I work with, I think we've changed our tune in what our kind of goal around that is. And I think these days we're talking a lot more about our goal and our work being to remind people that even in the midst of social and ecological collapse, even as the world is burning around us, it's still possible to create beauty.

Um, and I think it's really just about continuing to remind people that no matter what happens, it's still worth it to create beauty and to build community. That's really

Lucia Hulsether: resonant. Your first comment that you just said about making a 250 year plan and being so, um, ambitious and maybe sort of a control freak.

Uh, that's my words, not yours. Um, to get there reminds me of something Loretta Ross said when we interviewed her a couple of episodes ago. You are not the chain of freedom. You're a link in the chain of freedom. And trying to control what a future generation is going to do, or what a previous one like we're links in the chain.

And I think often when I sort of talk about grief or mourning or rage, um, or a sense of even hopelessness or pessimism in a, in a movement space, sometimes that I hear folks conflating with a level of resignation about struggle, or to say, like, a level of pessimism equates to throwing up your hands. Um, and I'm curious if, you know, you could comment on, on that connection.

Kazu Haga: Yeah, so we've actually been doing more and more grief work in our activism, but I don't really like that word oftentimes, but in our organizing, because I actually think it's our, it's oftentimes our inability to grieve, especially to grieve in community that brings about pessimism.

I think as a society, we suck at grieving. And what even things like the climate crisis, we, we see the news, we see the reports, not even the reports, but we oftentimes look out the window and we see the impact of climate crisis and we're not able to grieve. We just repress it. And we pretend that everything is fine.

And so I think, um, it's really important for people who are doing social change work to really create more and more explicit spaces for us to honor. These really difficult, intense feelings like grief and like rage in a safe container where it can be held, it can be witnessed, it can be honored. And I think without doing that, um, [00:41:00] it's really easy to be pessimistic or just to keep spinning the wheels and being involved in movements that aren't actually having the depth of impact that we need to be having.

Tina Pippin: Yeah, I don't know if you've been following what's happened or happening in Atlanta with the stop cop city movement. Um, it sort of relates, I think, to, um, you know, the, the Oakland, um. Shooting, um, and the aftermath and the defund the police movement and black lives matter and all of that. Um, uh, yeah, we're, we're in a space of grieving because our city council voted in favor of going ahead with it.

Um, uh, we're in your own work, um, with, um, you know, seeing the More militarization and violence of police just keeps coming, you know, one shooting after another after another. Um, how do you grieve and, and, and grieve collectively and, and find hope out of that, a way out of that?

And I remember, um, was it last year? A little over a year ago when the school shooting happened in New Baldy, Texas, I was on the road when it happened. I was going from workshop to workshop. And so I heard about it on the news, but I feel like because I was on the run, I couldn't really sit with it and to really process what just happened.

And so I've since picked up the practice where every time I hear about, whether it's a mass shooting or just a person getting killed in Oakland, I do what I can to actually find that person's story. And to look at their picture. And to put their picture up on my altar. And to really be with it every single time so I know that I'm not growing numb to it.

And then in some of the communities that I'm part of, um, I, we were considering organizing a regular monthly grief ritual where every month we know everyone knows once a month to come to this space together and we can grieve everything that has happened in the past month that we, we haven't actually had time or, or space to really process.

That social change work isn't just about going out there and protesting and trying to change policy. But it's really about making sure that when we do go out into the streets and when we're protesting, that our heart is clear about why we are there and what the emotions are and the feelings are that are driving us to those protests.

And, And then I compare this to a class I taught a couple of years ago, and it was about a year into the COVID pandemic called Lost Grief and Activism, and we were covering related topics. There were different community partnerships, different levels of class, different groups of students, no overlap between them.

The community that we were able to build in that first class through really serious conflict that I thought was going to bring me to my knees on the class to its knees a few weeks in, um, that perhaps the, the, the intention and the, the shared. Willingness to that, like coming to the class was an admission of vulnerability, um, in a way that maybe we weren't so vulnerable individually, emotionally with each other in the organized class, um, because of because of the framing, because of the, the, the kinds of dynamics that can create when people want to show up to be good [00:48:00] organizers, but not necessarily personally or emotionally.

Um, because they've connected with the underlying thing that's driving them towards that. So I guess I'm curious about one thing that I that I've heard a lot, um, in organizing communities and classrooms among colleagues is. Is a fear about bringing those raw parts of the self of vulnerability, particularly for people who are experience any number of experiencing any number of forms of institutional violence and oppression already, what does it mean to make room in spaces that are.

Not built for you, um, for a level of rawness and where can that go and how as a facilitator do you hold that and or even convince people, whoever they are, that this is a

Right, because we are all holding so much and of course, a lot of us are afraid of going to that space, but beneath the fear is the desire to get to that place. I've seen time and time again when we set up a container that feels safe enough. People in our society right now are so ready to dive in, and it's always going to be scary, right?

And open up and be vulnerable and to share all of who I am that that took more courage than anything I'd ever done. And the first principle of Kenyan nonviolence is that nonviolence is a way of life for courageous people. And it's that way because it takes courage to go out to demonstrations and risk getting arrested and tear gassed and all those things.

I think if we're going to ask society to transform its darkest histories, then we have to be willing to look at our darkest histories. If we're asking society to transform and heal its shadows, then we have to be willing to transform our shadows. And so I think a lot of the work of social change has to start with a commitment for all of us.

To do that scary thing and to talk about the things that we don't want to talk about and to have that conversation with our family that we don't want to have and to look at the shadows that we don't, we have that we don't want to look at. I think if we're not willing to do that, then we're not in a place where we can point the finger and demand society heal its deepest roots.

Tina Pippin: Yeah, and this is reminding me of the working title of your next book that I'm really excited. To see, uh, fierce vulnerability, um, because that's what you're talking about, and that's really hard, and, um, you have to do the individual work, and then the community work, and it's hard to step into those spaces.

Kazu Haga: Yeah, I got a couple of things. Obviously, there's so many people that I've worked with inside the prison system that at some point in their lives, people would have looked at and say, Oh, these people can never change. And now a lot of these people are some of the most dedicated peace workers I have ever met in my entire life.

Right. And so to believe that we are all capable of healing and transformation, and that we all are deserving of that. Yeah. At the same time, I don't think that we will ever reach Donald Trump, right? Like, I don't think Donald Trump in this lifetime is ever going to be transformed and healed and become this loving, accepting person.

Like, that's who I see. And I can have some amount of empathy for how broken he is, and how far removed he is from his own sense of humanity. And how far he's removed himself from the interwoven web of humanity. Like, I can have some compassion for that. And I'm going to do everything I can to stop everything that he's advocating for.

But if we, if I am a part of this interwoven web of humanity, Then that means all people are, right? We're either interdependent or we're not. Like I wrote in my book, there's like, the universe doesn't weave separate webs of interdependence based on political affiliation, right? We either believe in interdependence or we don't.

Lucia Hulsether: Yeah, this goes back to the, all your writing and what we've already talked about, uh, about interrupting this false binary between good people and bad people, harmers and harmed, um, that in, in fact, In addition to the self transformation, it does something to me to remember the humanity of the person.

Kazu Haga:

Yeah, absolutely. And it's a great fantasy that we all want to live in, right? That we don't cause harm. But I think once we start committing to doing our own shadow work, then it actually also becomes easier to have compassion for other people because we realize how messed up we are. Like, I'm very well aware of my shadows and how much more work I want to do on myself.

And that makes it a lot easier to have compassion for other people too, because we're all just trying to do our best. We're all on our journey, you know, and we're all messing up in these beautiful human ways.

Tina already mentioned it. Will you tell us how you came to write, how you came into this book writing process and tell us, give us a little bit of a, a preview?

Kazu Haga: Yeah, definitely. Um, so Fierce Vulnerability, Is it came out of this conversation that my friend Chris Moore Backman and I were having for many, many years about the word nonviolence and how problematic it is because there's so many misunderstandings about it that a lot of people, the moment that they hear the word nonviolence, they stop listening to us.

Right. And so we're always saying we just have to find another word. And once we get people in the door, then we can talk about whatever we want. But for marketing purposes, let's try to call it something else. And ultimately we decided not to do that. We decided to continue to use the word nonviolence and to do the work of re educating people about it.

We filled that workshop within 48 hours of announcing it, and we did it again, and we did it again, and then we got an invitation to do a Fierce Vulnerability Weekend for 250 people up north, and it just kind of spiraled. And so we've now done this workshop, Fierce Vulnerability, dozens of times all around the country, and we're finally starting to understand a little bit of what it means, so I've decided to write about it to try to put it more on paper.

And so can we look at even things like nonviolent direct action as a modality of collective trauma healing? That one of the biggest interventions that I had to do in my own personal healing journey was to have a really difficult and scary conversation with my family about my early childhood traumas.

When we look at things like racial healing and reconciliation in the United States, What we're trying to do is to have a conversation with our collective family, called the United States, about our collective childhood wounds, right? The United States, early in its collective childhood, experienced traumatic things.

Enslavement, genocide, indentured servitude, all these things. And these are legacies that we've never tried to heal from, never really actively talked about as a country. And so we've been repressing this traumatic memory for hundreds and hundreds of years. And when you repress traumatic memories, it seeps out in all of these perversions.

And so when we are doing social change work, that's what we're ultimately trying to do is to create space for the country to have a conversation about really difficult things that it's perhaps never talked about. And so as we engage in social change work. How do we do it in a way that is most conducive to people feeling safe enough to talk about the scariest things?

Tina Pippin: Yeah, thank you, Kazu. Is there anything we haven't talked about that you'd like to, to mention at this point? Before we ask the last question.

Kazu Haga: No, I don't think so. I can't think of anything.

Tina Pippin: Okay, Lucia, you want to ask the last question?

Lucia Hulsether: This is our standard question. What are you reading, listening to, watching, consuming, thinking about, that you would like to recommend to our audience?

I was talking to my partner about it the other day. I don't know why beautiful stories. To make you feel so terrible, like it is a devastatingly sad book. But there's something so beautiful about reading about people's struggles, right? So I'm really enjoying Pachinko. I'm also reading Jonathan Haidt's The Coddling of the American Mind, which is a few years old, but I think does an incredible job of articulating and giving some reasons of why Some of the breakdowns are happening in particularly a lot of our movement spaces and our progressive spaces.

So yeah, Pachinko, The Coddling of the American Mind, and The Lotus Sutra are the three things that I'm reading and would recommend all

three. Nina?

Tina Pippin: Okay, I want to recommend a novel that I just read by an East German author, uh, Jenny Erpenbeck. It's called Go, Went, Gone. It's about, uh, an East German classics professor at a university there. Who retires and his wife has died. And anyway, um, the wall is down. Um, and he gets involved with a group of us, of African asylum seekers, um, and in a German language class.

And when you pass out, you don't know anything about your work life and sort of the ethical mess of that. It's, it's really, it's very interesting and got great acting. Patricia Arquette, amazing. Anyway, those are my recommendations. Okay, Lucia.

Um. The book is beautifully written. It won a ton of awards. And I guess what I would say about it, this conversation is making me think about it, that Lehman kind of threw narrative, but not a narrative that is ever cleaned up or tied up in a bow. It's sort of messy from start to finish. is able to express the entanglements between the histories of anti Black violence and terror in this country and how that reverberates in and is It's shaped through and healed by sometimes, but not always the kind of intimate violences that show up in family, um, family life and that are also [01:08:00] visited upon the body.

So it's a, it's also a meditation on, um, weight on embodiment on eating disorders and food and what it means to feed oneself and be fed and nurtured and cared for. Um, anyway, it's a, it's a really, it's a really, um, gorgeous and hard book that I would highly recommend.

Tina Pippin: Kazu, Haga, thank you so much for being with us for this conversation. Um, uh, we've learned a lot and we're going to continue to learn from you. And I look forward to you coming to Atlanta to do a workshop.

Kazu Haga: Thank you so much for having me.

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