Walk the Walk: Affinity & Allyship

Walk the Walk

Not long ago, in the Empowerment and Advocacy class, I was taking in pursuit of my MSW, an illuminating discussion unfolded about the problem with the word ‘ally’ and perceived allyship to marginalized groups in society. My instructor, a brilliant and fascinating woman who was on the tail end of earning her Ph.D., and who has been herself, deeply entrenched in advocacy work with homeless kids for many years, explained that true allyship must always first, stem from affinity. If it doesn’t, it’s not only a scam, but it’s also harmful. 

This was a provocative conversation, especially because most of us in the class thought that to consider oneself to be an ally, is always a good thing. Within the context of social work, forming alliances with marginalized or non-dominant groups was what many of us thought we had signed up for. The problem, we learned, is that sometimes, in the name of injustice or suffering, we label or announce ourselves as someone who is helpful or as someone who is offering partnership, without actually doing the ‘being helpful’ or ‘being a partner’ part. In this case, to call ourselves an ally may be performative and inauthentic - an ally in name only. What does any of this have to do with horses? I promise, I’m getting to that…

My instructor noted that building affinity is the path to true collaboration and real advocacy; in order to have an affinity with someone, you have to become close with them; you really have to come to know them. Once you’ve built an affinity, it is that rapport, or friendship, that creates authentic connection, allyship and support. How do you get to know someone who doesn't have the same life or even worldview as you do? How do you build a rapport with someone who has a completely divergent experience than you? How do you communicate with someone who speaks a different language than you or hails from a different culture? 

Well, you work really hard to learn about all the factors that go into creating their unique lived experience, including their history, their culture, their daily reality, and their personality. You listen, observe and repeat. You learn about their language and their culture. Then, when you still don’t quite understand because it's all just too far outside your own reality, you keep listening and observing and learning. Moreover, when they tell you their story, in their own words, you believe them wholly, even if it doesn’t match what you see through your own lens. This is how empathy works and this is how affinity grows.

From here, connection, friendship, partnership, and a multitude of other amazing things can spring.

As promised, here’s where the horses come into the story. Of course, as this conversation went on in my class, I thought about horses. I thought: this is exactly the disconnect between people and horses. We say, I love my horse; I am a horse lover; I am a horse person; but there may be moments when our horse says to us, “um, so, perhaps, if you please, you could love me a little less like a horse person and a lot more like a horse?” We tend to do all the things that we think our horse will like, without really knowing what they like.

To be truly connected to our horses, we must be operating from where our horses consider themselves to be safe, and comfortable and cared for, which is not always the same as what we humans consider to be so. For example, if I walk into my horse’s stall to greet him, when I look around, I notice it is free from sharp edges or hazards, it is clean, full of fresh shavings, and there’s plenty of hay. As I say hello, I offer a carrot. There! Safety: safe living space; check! Comfort: lots of shavings and hay; check! Care: a crunchy carrot; check! So, what’s the problem? Why won’t my horse pick up the correct lead or why is he spooky on the trail or resistant through his flexion exercises or….the list goes on, and on. I’m doing all the things, I’m doing my part to make sure my horse feels safe, comfortable, cared for, and even loved! Why does he check out when I need him most?

The answer is as layered and contextual as each horse’s own unique personality, and it is our job to build an affinity with our horses that creates a better understanding of each other. The conundrum at the heart of that process is the truth that most of what we do in the name of our horses has very little to do with what they need and everything to do with what makes us feel safe, comfortable and cared for. 

In the case of our example, to the horse, the stall may feel like a walled-off cave, especially if, for example, their neighbor is aggressive or nervous. The soft shavings may go unslept in and trampled from pacing if the horse feels unsafe or alone. The carrot will surely be eaten, but it will likely only serve as a momentary, maybe even confusing distraction. Now, this is only one example; it is true that many horses like their stalls, and a daily carrot doesn’t unsettle them. 

The point is to look at your routine interactions with your horse and ask yourself, do they serve to increase your horse’s overall, intrinsic needs? Are you doing the work to meet your horse where they are at any given moment? Or, are you asking your horse to assimilate to your world? 

As in any partnership, there will be a lot of give and take as well as a certain amount of meeting in the middle; obviously, there already has been a lot of the horse adapting to the human - the horse is domesticated, after all. That said, I believe it is up to us, the humans in the room, to bear more of the responsibility for learning and growing and becoming more aware of how the world looks from the horse’s perspective. 

Insert empathy, right here, from which affinity will bloom.

Lick and chew on the following reminders about how your horse sees the world:

Our perception of the world has a lot to do with our vision - the same goes for all sentient beings. Our horse’s vision is different from ours in almost every way—acuity, range, eye contact, and detection of peripheral motion, just for starters. Equine eyes are eight times larger than human eyes, but a horse’s acuity—the ability to discriminate fine detail while focusing on something in the center of the visual field—is a lot poorer than ours. For example, typical human acuity is 20/20. A typical horse’s acuity is about 20/30. Basically, that means our horse has to be 50 percent closer to see the same details as we do. So, even in sunshine, the horse’s view of an obstacle is likely blurry, hazy, dim, flat, and vague. What’s more, most horses have to get pretty close to an object and look down at it with one eye to really be able to see it.

Another difference: human vision is limited to roughly 45 degrees on either side of our noses, for a total of about 90 degrees. In comparison, if your horse could hold his hind toe straight out to his side, it would be nearly at the center of his vision. Take a second to let that sink in. Also, horses have poor depth perception. So, the plastic baggie, innocently bobbing and floating in the breeze, to your horse, looks like it’s coming hard, fast and straight at him.

We all know that our horse’s eyes are on the sides of his head; but sometimes, I don’t think we examine what that really means. Horses have a 350-degree view, almost four times greater than the range humans see. Therefore, our horse is taking in four times more information for processing every second of the day. No wonder he may be a little reactive from time to time.

Horses have two blind spots: one directly behind them and one directly in front of them, from eye level to the ground below the nose and out to about six feet. A hand quickly raised will appear to the horse to come outta nowhere. Horses cannot see the grass they graze, the bit they accept, or the hand that strokes their muzzle. They employ their whiskers to sense these things. A horse whose whiskers are shaved experiences an extreme sensory deficit. 

Additionally, horses also employ their sense of smell and hearing to fill in vision gaps; to make sense of what they are seeing. Horses' sense of hearing and smell is on par with dogs.

Horses are flight animals and use speed as their primary survival mechanism. When in danger, horses will always attempt to flee first.; they are the only domesticated prey animal that doesn’t have horns. Literally, horses' only real defense is flight - to outrun the danger. This is a horse’s last line of defense when we talk about their need for safety.

 Horses are one of the animal kingdom's fastest learners and have an excellent memory. They also have one of the fastest reaction times of all prey animals. 

The tactile sensitivity that humans experience in their fingertips is what horses experience over the entirety of their bodies.

Horses seek connection and collaboration via a herd. The hierarchy of the herd is set by who controls the movement of the individuals of the herd. Hierarchy or positionality is not acquired through aggression or force, but rather through movement, energy, and body language.