Reflection of the Session with Elizabeth Power:
In conversations about trauma and healing, resilience often takes center stage. We celebrate the strength it takes to survive and recover, but I find myself wondering: Are we focusing on the right things? What if resilience alone isn’t enough—what if it sometimes distracts us from deeper questions about justice, protection, and societal change?
While I deeply appreciate the emphasis on personal healing and emotional resilience, I question whether that should be the main focus. Too often, we put so much weight on how individuals survive trauma that we forget to ask why they had to endure it in the first place. Where is the accountability? Where is the protection? Resilience is important—but it should never become a distraction from justice or a quiet acceptance of ongoing harm. As Maya Angelou wisely said, “You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” Building individual strength is essential, yet it’s only one piece of a larger puzzle. When we focus solely on personal healing without nurturing the systems that support and protect us, we place an unfair burden on individuals to carry wounds that often mirror societal failures. Healing empowers us to grow and adapt, while strong, caring systems create the environment where such growth can truly flourish. Martin Luther King Jr. reminds us, “True peace is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice.” Resilience helps us navigate challenges, but supportive systems ensure those challenges are fewer and less severe. Together, individual empowerment and collective care form a foundation for lasting well-being.
I also want to challenge the popular celebration of resilience. While we love the idea of it, we often label those visibly affected by trauma as weak, unprepared, or “too emotional,” as if their struggle is a personal flaw. We praise strength only when it looks polished and quiet, not when it’s messy or inconvenient. This contradiction is dangerous. We call resilient people “winners,” but what about those who didn’t win that fight? Trauma shows up differently depending on who you are, where you come from, and how deeply you feel—a reality that aligns closely with Kimberlé Crenshaw’s intersectionality theory. Social categories like race, class, gender, and culture intersect to shape unique experiences of privilege and oppression. People from marginalized or historically oppressed groups often face compounded trauma due to systemic inequalities, discrimination, and exclusion. These identity factors influence not only the likelihood of experiencing trauma but also the resources available for protection and healing. This explains why some individuals are more exposed and vulnerable: social structures can either shield or leave them exposed. Moreover, being more sensitive and open often means becoming more exposed—and, paradoxically, less protected. Social vulnerability theory shows how certain social positions increase susceptibility to harm due to lack of protective resources. Arlie Hochschild’s emotional labor theory further explains that those expected or inclined to be emotionally open or empathetic often bear disproportionate emotional burdens without adequate support, increasing their risk of burnout or harm. This creates a painful paradox: emotional openness, while personally and culturally valued, can translate into greater vulnerability. It’s also hard not to grow bitter when hurt repeatedly. Psychological and sociological theories on trauma coping reveal how repeated trauma can lead to emotional hardening or detachment as a defense against further pain. Maintaining openness and self-work despite repeated hurt requires extraordinary strength and reflects the complex balance between vulnerability and resilience.
Elizabeth Power’s concept of “joyful resistance” resonates deeply—not as a comforting phrase, but as a radical, serious path forward. This idea aligns with critical theory, which emphasizes resistance to oppressive structures and the transformation of social conditions rather than mere adaptation. Empowerment theory complements this by focusing on gaining control over one’s life and circumstances, encouraging active resistance and social change. “Joyful resistance” combines resilience with agency and hope, suggesting that true strength lies not only in bouncing back but in using that strength to fight back, speak up, and build something better together. This reframes resilience as a radical, collective, and hopeful act—not just personal endurance.
Her session was deeply analytical and focused on an individual level but for me, it raised more questions than answers. It challenged me to reflect not just on resilience as a personal journey, but on the broader societal frameworks that shape who gets protected, who is left vulnerable, and how we can truly build collective strength and justice.
Athina Papapavlou
(Greece)