Protect Your Energy

Rebecca Harris
3 days ago
3 min read

Last week, I ran into my friend Ray Tony Charlie from Penelakut. We were both walking on the ferry that travels from Penelakut to Chemainus, and we used the hour-long journey to catch up. We found ourselves talking about writing, about Teaching's Tuesday, and about his TikTok account. Inevitably the conversation drifted toward something many of us who speak publicly experience. Pushback.

One of the teachings I try to embody in this work is the importance of engaging with people with kindness, generosity, and patience. These teachings were shared with me by people who have every reason not to offer that generosity, yet they do.

Each week many people respond to Teachings Tuesday. Some offer encouragement. Others ask thoughtful questions. And a few challenge or oppose what I have written.

For me, Teachings Tuesday has always been a kind of unlearning journal. It is not meant to be perfect or polished. It is me noticing something in real time, sitting with it, and sharing the learning as it unfolds. This means I will sometimes be wrong. I may hold bias I have not yet realized. I may misunderstand circumstances or miss important context.

Because of that, when someone pushes back I try to receive it with humility. I try to listen for what might be true in their perspective. I take a lot of care in my responses because I want people to feel invited into this work. I believe learning begins when people feel safe enough to be curious, even when the topic is uncomfortable.

But sometimes the pushback is not coming from a place of curiosity.

Sometimes the response is simply to argue. To dismiss. To demand proof of experiences they have never lived.

As Ray and I talked about this while riding the ferry from Penelakut to Chemainus, he shared that he experiences the same thing on TikTok. There are people who arrive in his comments determined to challenge him.

Some will even say, “Prove it. Where are the bodies?”

It is an ironic question if you know Ray’s story.

Ray was not just a witness to what happened at the Kuper Island Residential School. He was a child there. He lived it. He saw the horrors as they happened. He carries those memories in ways that no document or archive could ever fully capture.

As we sat there talking, Ray offered me some advice.

He told me about the importance of protecting my energy.

Not every comment deserves a response. Not every argument deserves your time. Some people are not looking to learn. They are looking to exhaust you.

And when we spend all of our energy trying to convince people who have already decided not to listen, we take that energy away from the people who are ready to hear the teaching.