Carolyn Carney
Paralyzed by CNN: Dealing with Compassion Burnout
Shortly after I returned from two years of mission work in South Africa and less than two weeks after being re-introduced to television (I didn’t have one in South Africa), Tsunami pounded parts of Asia. Banda Aceh was on the lips of many who could have never found it on a map. And similar to the oft-repeated hideous scenes of the airplane flying into the World Trade Center, we saw wave after wave of turbulent ocean crashing and snatching life. In an instant, tourist video cameras shifted from idyllic holiday shots to horrific scenes of mayhem as the powerful ocean swept away everything in sight, complete with the sounds of terrified screams.
For days, it seemed, I was absolutely transfixed in front of the television. Each morning though, I descended the steps from the upstairs bedroom at my aunt’s house, went to the kitchen, put on the coffee, walked out to the mailbox to retrieve the newspaper, opened it while I walked back in the house and read what CNN had just reported the night before, went back into the kitchen, made some toast or a bowl of cereal, poured the coffee and ascended the steps again, paper under my arm to watch more of CNN. Reports about the bodies piling up, the threat of disease, aftershocks, the stories of survivors, were repeated one after the other while I sat there eating my breakfast and wondering why I couldn’t get my coffee to the right potency.
I felt nearly as helpless as those folks felt against the surging sea. I wanted desperately to do something. But what? I accessed the most powerful tool available to mankind: the internet, and researched how I could, from such a distance, alleviate the suffering depicted so graphically on my television screen. But I had no medical training, no experience in relief or development work; I’m out of shape, overweight and my octogenarian, recently widowed, childless aunt was happy to have me on US soil once again—volunteering in Banda Aceh didn’t seem like a viable option.
OK. So I’m a Christian. I believe that Jesus has overcome the world. I can pray about this. I shut down the computer, went back upstairs, and closed the doors. And just in case some new emergent crisis came up that could inform my prayer, I turned on CNN in the background. (Let me use this as a teachable moment: like in Scripture, some things are descriptive, not prescriptive. I am describing what I did to illustrate how we can become numb to events that otherwise could present opportunities to be change agents in the world. In other words, don’t do as I did here!)
My prayers were limp. Weak. I didn’t know where to start. I was overwhelmed and soon gave up praying. And shortly thereafter, like the baby stretching her tiny fingers toward the electrical socket, my gaze turned back to CNN and the pictures of more devastation.
Eventually, I did what probably many of us in North America do when we are moved by what we see but not much further than our own safe, warm and reliable homes: I went back to the internet and in a few clicks I had donated money to a well-known Christian relief agency. It was good money, hard-earned, put to good use, I’m sure, but it felt like the easy way out. And a few months later when disaster hit our own shores in a hurricane named Katrina, I was burned out. I did less than during the Tsunami. It was as if I was paralyzed by the overwhelming need and so could do nothing in response.
What can we do when compassion burnout sets in and numbs our good neighborly sensibilities? Is there an antidote? As you read this know that I am writing as much for myself as an audience. I’m writing for an audience because my editor has asked me to address this subject. I’m writing for myself because I want to respond better next time. I want to be a healing presence in the world, by representing Christ well. We are all learners here.
Some suggestions to help us avoid compassion fatigue:
1) Choose your news source wisely. Avoid watching too much TV. The images will numb you to the effect on real people after many hours of viewing. Choose news sources like periodicals and newspaper, even the internet, over television. In print news, the story does not come at you fast like it does on television. I find Op Ed pieces in the newspaper to be helpful as the columnist gives a commentary on the facts, rather than just the facts themselves. This helps me understand a confusing situation, say like Darfur, or the Congo a little better. Nicholas Kristoff, writing in the New York Times, will often direct readers to web addresses for further information or for action steps.
Television can isolate and insulate us from real relationships, which in a crisis is what contributes to feeling overwhelmed. We need to reach out to others.
2) Pray with others. Join with others in your church, community, city or campus to pray for the needs of those involved. Be careful not to let it become a place for people to spout off their political views and become divisive. In a crisis, everyone needs prayer. And joining with others to pray helps to share the burden so you’re not carrying it all yourself.
One of the things that keeps us from prayer in a natural disaster, like a hurricane or Tsunami is that we become overwhelmed by the scale of the emergency. Putting a face you know into the picture will keep you focused. For instance, if you attend an Episcopal church, pray for the Episcopal diocese in the area that is affected. Or perhaps you have a distant relative or old roommate there. When they have those “human interest stories” make those folks the focus of your cry to God. Or imagine what it would be like for your family to be going through such turmoil. How would you pray for loved ones in that situation? What would you want God to do for them?
As I write this, it reminds me to pray for Bruce, an acquaintance of mine from church. After spending one week in Mississippi after Katrina, he left his job and permanently relocated to the Gulf Coast to help with the rebuilding. Knowing someone who is there keeps the situation real to me and not far off.
3) Get Involved Where you are Able. Some may not have the ability to do what Bruce did. But for some this might mean using a Spring- or Summer Break or vacation time to help rebuild the Gulf Coast. For others it might mean detouring into a new field of study or career in order to make a contribution later in life. I have two friends who, after becoming aware of the AIDS pandemic in Southern Africa, changed the course of their lives, one by relocating to South Africa to direct an HIV education program and one by choosing to study public health. For those with family demands, limitations might narrow your choices, but “involvement” can be broad. Check any web address for relief agencies for suggestions.
Attending Urbana 06 will give you many opportunities to investigate ways to get involved in diverse places around the globe.
The key here is the human connection. This is what keeps our hearts soft toward God and others. Compassion is not just dropping a few coins in the can of the homeless woman. That’s pity. Compassion is bending down, making eye contact, exchanging names, touching, valuing that person as made in the image of God. Real contact. Real compassion. May God help us in this electronic age to touch the human soul.
Print
Email
