Growing up, one of my guilty pleasures as a pre-teen was watching Jerry Springer after high school. My social world at the time revolved around going to a prestigious private school and attending a suburban white church. These environments were suspect to artificiality, where fake smiles and polished fashion designs cloaked deep-rooted anger. Watching Springer daily taught me how real human beings deal with the messed up problems of community, without hearing the esoteric remarks only the religious would understand. One particular episode that was jarring in my mind, with the plot being a woman who had been exploited several times by multiple men is now approached by what appears to be a quality guy. He is well-dressed, holding a red bouquet, in awe of the beauty he sees in her. When he approaches her and speaks in love to her soul, she is incredibly flattered, and the audience is on their seats, anticipating a watershed moment. But then the woman begins to break down crying, saying that she can no longer trust men because of her past. As if on cue, a lovely woman walks to greet on-stage, and the couple caress each other romantically as the man stares in astonishment. Then Mr. Springer abruptly comes to the scene, chiming in that it’s time for another commercial break.

Often, when oppressive experiences come are seen as the dark imprint upon our lives, it becomes automatic for someone to do whatever possible to prevent such an occurrence from happening ever again. And no doubt this is well-meaning, because of the urgency to legitimize one's self-care. But what are we to do when we come to loath what many view as a blessing? Do we angrily display before the masses the pains by which we have been hurt? Or should we be silent, dismiss the burden of suffering as fraudulent, and willingly submit to forms of oppression?

The answer is complicated, but also simple. Yes, we first need to legitimize the pain, but more importantly, we must take action and control how such disillusionment will change, if not ruin, our interactions with others in community. So it is a matter of surrendering to the inner cry to be loved, and yet resisting the urge to put down those who only appear threatening, rather than someone who formally endorses forms of oppression. More importantly, we need to create spaces that will teach us again how to love others, even those we would consider to be our worst enemy.

When we are empowered to love ourselves and those around us, we begin to revert the effects of negative encounters, and allow ourselves to be vulnerable again with the previously wretched. However, this means that reconciliation is not a one person job, but a collective effort taken up by those who sincerely care about the continued healthiness of the situation. And to be clear, a key part of that process should be allowing the decision of choosing to withdrawal as a respected action. But in the meantime, we must listen, be weary how our actions, however unintentional they may be, and acknowledge that we have real potential to hurt others-even those who we may love dearly.