Authority and Privilege

I’ve been pulled over by the police – it’s scary. My body was shaking. But I never felt like I was in physical danger. Or that I would be arrested inappropriately. I was just afraid of getting a ticket.

I’ve never been a police officer, but I do have some experience being in positions of power and authority. Most of my leadership positions have been in the field of Surgery. I’ve been a Division Chief and Department Chair over the past 15 years. Witnessing the tragic death of George Floyd and other examples of similar violent acts reminded me of one of my first experiences being in a position of authority.

I remember the fear and then anger I experienced when a gang of 10-15 African American boys tried to break through the gate I was guarding at the Orange Bowl. I played on the varsity football team as a junior in high school in the late 70s. I lived in a small town in southeast Florida where the passion for high school football rivals that in the state of Texas. Our coach somehow secured a contract to provide security for the Orange Bowl during the Miami Dolphins home football games. So, about every other week during football season, a couple dozen of us would travel to the stadium, wearing our jerseys, and be stationed (one each) at each of the stadium gates.

On the day the boys approached, I was paired with an elderly African American woman who was the ticket taker. We were both scared. But I was the security guard – it wasn’t her responsibility to deal with the group trying to break in without tickets. The leader of the group was a little older and bigger than most of the others, but still younger and smaller than me. As he threatened us if we didn’t let them through, we yelled for help, pretending to call for a police officer to come quickly from around a stadium wall. The boys couldn’t see where the imaginary police officer was so we hoped they would believe us, and that the fear of a police officer coming around the corner would scare them off.

The leader didn’t back down, and although there was no gun or knife in sight, he suggested they had weapons. There was no way we could stop them if they all rushed the gate at once. The only thing I could think to do was to threaten the leader. I told him I knew that we were outnumbered and if they all rushed us most would get in. As my fear began to mix with anger, I told the leader I didn’t care if any of the other kids got in but if he rushed the gate, I would focus on just him. I wouldn’t let him in, and I would physically restrain him until the police arrived. And if he fought me and tried to escape, I would hurt him.

I was angry because he was challenging my authority. I was angry because I would feel embarrassed if they got past me. I was angry because I was scared. Maybe I was angry because they were Black, and I didn’t understand unconscious bias.

Somehow, that strategy worked, and after a few tense minutes they ran away, and the ticket taker and I shared a sigh of relief. I never had another experience like that, but in that moment, I experienced the fear and anger that I imagine some authority figures experience in similar, and especially much more dangerous, situations.

But what if I had a different mindset back then? A new way of thinking. At the age of seventeen and for many years of my adult life, my default setting was to use my lower brain to guide my behavior. I reacted and responded based on my feelings rather than processing things with my higher brain. The lower brain tends to respond to difficult situations with anger and competition and basically thinks, “What’s in it for me – is this good for me?”, while the higher brain is able to consider a more complete perspective and responds with curiosity and empathy to most situations.

Developing the higher brain thinking was not easy; it was uncomfortable at times and it took me several years to go through this process of my personal growth. And I do still revert back to lower brain thinking and behavior sometimes (although less and less over time).

If I had already developed higher brain thinking when I was guarding that Orange Bowl gate, maybe I would have realized these people were just kids (higher brain), not a gang (lower brain), who wanted to cheer for the Dolphins at a live pro football game. I knew the Orange Bowl was… in a bad neighborhood (lower brain)… in an area where people are underprivileged, discriminated against and some are suffering (higher brain). Instead of using my authority and physical superiority to threaten them, maybe I could have used higher brain thinking with empathy and compassion and tried to help them.

I could have said, “Hey guys, my name’s Bruce and I love football. Have you guys ever seen a live Dolphins game? Would you like me to see if I can find some empty seats or a place to stand where you could see the game? Are any of you guys hungry or thirsty? We could go to the concession stand and I’ll treat.” Why not have kindness be our default setting, especially when we’re in a position of power?

I know that with higher brain thinking and kindness as our default setting, it might be abused at times. Those kids might have laughed at me and still tried to rush the gate, but I don’t think that would’ve been the likely response. I think they would have loved to have someone help them see a live NFL game and get something to eat and drink. I think they would’ve been grateful to be approached with kindness and respect.

My personal growth has helped me to understand that most suffering in our world comes from the lower brain thinking and behavior resulting in harm from how we treat each other as human beings. Acts of violence (physical, sexual, psychological, financial, etc.) are possible when a person, or group of people, dehumanizes another person or group of people. I saw that group of boys at the Orange Bowl as a gang from a bad neighborhood instead of a group of kids who were underprivileged, discriminated against and possibly suffering.

I wonder where those boys are today. Did any of them have opportunities like I did – to go to medical school and become a surgeon? I hope so. How much more suffering did they endure as they became young men and progressed into adulthood? Were any arrested and incarcerated? How many developed hypertension, diabetes and other diseases that are a result of chronic stress growing up in an environment full of potential violence, discrimination, and a lack of resources? How many have died?

My youngest son, Lou, has black skin. He’s around sixteen years old. He was most likely born in Haiti and was found abandoned in a garden just across the border in the Dominican Republic. (Some of his story was published in Creighton Magazine.) What is the likelihood he could be at risk of violence simply because of the color of his skin? I met him at a mission in the Dominican Republic when he was about a year old. He has a beautiful and kind spirit. He exhibits higher brain thinking most of the time and his teachers consistently express how he has impacted their lives in a positive way through his courage (he has physical disabilities) and his kindness to others.

Racism, like many of the problems in our world, has its roots in how we think – a lower brain mindset allows us to be more selfish and at times allows our behavior to be driven by fear, anger, and other lower brain emotions. Neurophysiologic studies have shown that these emotions are located in the area of the brain called the amygdala. Fortunately, our brains can be re-wired, termed neuroplasticity. There are cognitive therapies that can allow for higher-brain connections in the pre-frontal cortex to override the lower-brain emotions. There is even newer evidence that the lower brain can also be re-wired to eliminate the negative emotional response to another group of people who are different from us.

As a society, we should recognize the need to evolve our thinking to a higher brain more altruistic mindset, and our global healthcare system could be a catalyst for this change. It’s the only industry in our world where the primary purpose is to learn how to better care for each other as human beings. When we realize that much of disease and suffering is produced from the physical, sexual, psychological and financial violence we inflict on each other, we can transform our thinking and promote behavior that provides care, compassion, healing, and sustainable health for our world.

Notes: The picture is of me with my youngest son, Lou. To the boys that were at that Orange Bowl gate, I apologize that I did not first try to approach you with kindness and respect instead of fear and then anger.

For anyone interested in exploring resources for a new way of thinking, one of the resources I’ve used many times is listening to the David Foster Wallace speech titled This is Water. There is a YouTube link in the blog post and again here. I wish you way more than luck.