OPPRESSION IS INSIDIOUS BUT AUTHORITARIANISM LACKS INSPIRATION
By : Dr. Lauren Whitehurst | Cognitive Neuroscientist
A few days ago, writing about joy felt unimaginable. I was numb and apathetic—or so I believed. My mind was inundated with the haunting images of student protesters being abducted and disappeared; their First Amendment rights violated. Universities across the nation faced unprecedented attacks on academic freedom, while vital research protecting our environment and community health was put on pause. This barrage, coupled with the ongoing threat of federal policies harming the most vulnerable among us, led to an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, frustration, and anger. My instinct to withdraw, to stay inside and avoid the chaos, felt not selfish but self-preserving. I needed to reconnect with myself, speak to loved ones, breathe, and turn down the external noise. So, I did.
In this inward journey, I uncovered something profound. While I expected to encounter anxiety and tension, instead I found an unexpected calm—both within myself and among the community. Not apathy, but a serene fortitude, a readiness for action. This prompted me to explore why, in the face of such terror, I felt this uncanny sense of emotional tranquility.
Allow me to introduce myself: I am Dr. Lauren Whitehurst, PhD. Yes, the surname is no coincidence—I am the younger sister of Lea Whitehurst-Gibson, Executive Director of VACV. For as long as I can remember, Lea and I have spent countless hours unpacking the complexities of human experience, exploring what it means to thrive in community. While Lea has dedicated herself to community organizing, I have devoted nearly 15 years to studying the human mind and body. My focus lies in understanding how social context shapes our mental and physical health, and how structural disadvantage and chronic stress affect our well-being. I investigate how communities can inform research questions and provide insights into effective interventions to dismantle systemic oppression.
So, in my exploration of this collective calm amid so much strife, I allowed my brain to remember. Memory is a powerful aspect of human experience. Our brains are wired to retain significant information, allowing us to recall essential lessons when we need them most. In confronting my despair, my internal search and connections to loved ones brought forth memories that helped to contextualize my emotions.
The first lesson I remembered is that we humans cycle and regenerate. We are never stagnant, even when external conditions are stubborn. Frustration, sadness, and anger were never permanent states; emotional change was always on the horizon.
The second lesson is that oppression is insidious, but authoritarianism lacks inspiration. Freedom is what fuels us. My sense of calm was signaled by our collective readiness to pursue our own liberation. Conversations with my collaborators and loved ones began with “Here we go,” evolved into “We knew this was coming,” and concluded with “We’ve got this—reach out if you need a reminder of the momentum we’ve already built.”
The final lesson I remembered is that our brains thrive on problem-solving when equipped with the necessary resources. My feelings of frustration and anger were reminders of the clear challenges we face. Acknowledging these emotions allowed me to tap into both my internal and community resources, resulting in a surprising sense of calm. My community became my fortress, reminding me that we are prepared and united in our mission – ready to implement liberation strategies and move forward.
Today, a week after experiencing that onslaught of stress and withdrawal, my calm has paved the way for joy. This joy is a regeneration of anger and frustration, strengthened by our community's resilience in the face of adversity, propeling us toward the innovation, creativity, and problem-solving required to meet this moment.