sometimes I feel as though I walk around motivated by what i don't like that i see, ready to fight wearing my pink shades.
"we'll be pushing up roses by next spring, once we get through with you world!"
other times, i walk with fists-pumping, heart breaking, but unable to keep my wrists up, so heavy are the gloves that want to fight.
but why always these gloves? why am i perpetually looking for battle, for a status quo to criticize and subvert? what if i walked around with a garden hose to nourish what i liked? there really cannot be so little that i like. and good isn't scarce, it's just the the bad is blooming from behind these blue shades i sometimes wear.
but what if i were to put down the clubs, keep the shades, but carry a hose? i mean, a hose could put out fires too, if i really felt like a fight.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
self-defeat
I have a brilliant, articulate, and sharp political science lecturer for one of my courses.
This is not an anomaly, but at a university known for its post-graduate research, we do marvel when we get a great teacher at the front of a lecture hall. So often brilliant minds don't make for brilliant teachers. When a lecturer is able to cross this divide, I am grateful.
So imagine the degree of appreciation I have for this woman. It is so satisfying, so empowering to witness a reputable woman confidently leading this upper level undergraduate course before an audience of critical, nearly as sharp, somewhat younger minds.
But as every woman in this hemisphere will be, she is objectified. I would hazard a guess that upon walking into her classroom, moreso than upon entering any of the male professor's rooms who dominate the international security domain - that we sexualize the person standing at the front of the room.
Not difficult to do when she is a young, gorgeous woman. But why does our society condition us to do this? And it is not only my male peers who sexualize her - who refer to her as a babe, who comment on her walk or dress - but also my female peers. This week, I commented on how much I liked this woman's lecturing style and the girl next to me objected, saying "I can't take her seriously when she's wearing a headband."
I'll leave a space here for you to sigh.
What is it about a woman that causes her to be judged for her physical appearance before her brain. If the things coming out of her mouth are relevant, purposeful, and coherent, what does it matter that she needs a headband to help her keep her bangs from distracting her train of thought. Shouldn't she be applauded for coming to class professionally prepared to address the classroom.
If I'm not just struggling against a patriarchal and exploitive society, but also against women who reinforce this order with such a cavalier dismissal of the people who exist within it, what are the odds that I will come to peace with this civilization?
This is not an anomaly, but at a university known for its post-graduate research, we do marvel when we get a great teacher at the front of a lecture hall. So often brilliant minds don't make for brilliant teachers. When a lecturer is able to cross this divide, I am grateful.
So imagine the degree of appreciation I have for this woman. It is so satisfying, so empowering to witness a reputable woman confidently leading this upper level undergraduate course before an audience of critical, nearly as sharp, somewhat younger minds.
But as every woman in this hemisphere will be, she is objectified. I would hazard a guess that upon walking into her classroom, moreso than upon entering any of the male professor's rooms who dominate the international security domain - that we sexualize the person standing at the front of the room.
Not difficult to do when she is a young, gorgeous woman. But why does our society condition us to do this? And it is not only my male peers who sexualize her - who refer to her as a babe, who comment on her walk or dress - but also my female peers. This week, I commented on how much I liked this woman's lecturing style and the girl next to me objected, saying "I can't take her seriously when she's wearing a headband."
I'll leave a space here for you to sigh.
What is it about a woman that causes her to be judged for her physical appearance before her brain. If the things coming out of her mouth are relevant, purposeful, and coherent, what does it matter that she needs a headband to help her keep her bangs from distracting her train of thought. Shouldn't she be applauded for coming to class professionally prepared to address the classroom.
If I'm not just struggling against a patriarchal and exploitive society, but also against women who reinforce this order with such a cavalier dismissal of the people who exist within it, what are the odds that I will come to peace with this civilization?
Friday, March 21, 2008
xenophobia
i just heard a man on the CBC say, for fear of China rising, that he refuses to buy products from China. we condemn China for getting oil from Sudan, but refuse their membership to the organization that would give them access to "acceptable" oil. we belt them with a geopolitical neo-containment strategy. we will boycott their olympics and revile their treatment of tibet.
nevermind our agricultural subsidies. nevermind our SUVs, nevermind our NATO, nevermind our WMDs and AMBs, nevermind our Revolution is Military Affairs, our steroids and indian residential schools, our coughing, failing, status-quo preserving steaks and bordeaus.
yes, revile, strangle, suppress China.
and then let's smack the baby for having fetal alcohol syndrome. because heaven knows, they created the condition.
alas, a quandry! the status quo is ours.
nevermind our agricultural subsidies. nevermind our SUVs, nevermind our NATO, nevermind our WMDs and AMBs, nevermind our Revolution is Military Affairs, our steroids and indian residential schools, our coughing, failing, status-quo preserving steaks and bordeaus.
yes, revile, strangle, suppress China.
and then let's smack the baby for having fetal alcohol syndrome. because heaven knows, they created the condition.
alas, a quandry! the status quo is ours.
why do we want them to be like us?
our development projects aim to boost them, to modernize them, integrate them, and win them over. them is the third world, that invisible realm we created between cold war allies and enemies, the two inches of blanket our governments treat like they don't really want, but that they would rather have and hold than let their sibling take. so we tug and pull and fight.
we want to spread our values, tissues, collars, colours, coolers, and covers. but why do we want to melt and mold them into our jungle of plastic, waste, coughing, vomiting, concrete, sterile glaring light and art that screams from the pages of literary supplements, begging for you to notice that they took a risk revealing the agony that chomps and chews inside our ears, behind our eyes, in our bellies.
it is not a world i want them to bear. like a tragic paddle to get away from it all, only to find a parking lot and an old logging road that made it an escape for stoned, fucked, and fucking kids like me who are begging for escape. why do we lead the underdeveloped world down a path to development that is only as nice as it is from the outside? that is not sustainable? our development is a folk tale that will be told to the lasses and lassies to come, for months and centuries. our folklore excuses, excuse me, expels and eclipse: drugs, lying, cheating, concrete, mental disorders, excessive orders, drive-through kelp and fries.
it is not a self-selected population of self-loathing, lost women who sigh, half of them, in sad sorry agreement with me, that they two still strive for development: development to squeeze, squish, shit, squander and vomit what makes them too oddly shaped for the mold.
oh good heavens, do we want to welcome the third world into just another hostile world? but one whose precarious equilibrium teeters at such a high level of intake and excretion that certainly, we shall all slip into a fiery whirlwind, only to be saved from concussions and death if we can get a sorry! off our lips in time.
we want to spread our values, tissues, collars, colours, coolers, and covers. but why do we want to melt and mold them into our jungle of plastic, waste, coughing, vomiting, concrete, sterile glaring light and art that screams from the pages of literary supplements, begging for you to notice that they took a risk revealing the agony that chomps and chews inside our ears, behind our eyes, in our bellies.
it is not a world i want them to bear. like a tragic paddle to get away from it all, only to find a parking lot and an old logging road that made it an escape for stoned, fucked, and fucking kids like me who are begging for escape. why do we lead the underdeveloped world down a path to development that is only as nice as it is from the outside? that is not sustainable? our development is a folk tale that will be told to the lasses and lassies to come, for months and centuries. our folklore excuses, excuse me, expels and eclipse: drugs, lying, cheating, concrete, mental disorders, excessive orders, drive-through kelp and fries.
it is not a self-selected population of self-loathing, lost women who sigh, half of them, in sad sorry agreement with me, that they two still strive for development: development to squeeze, squish, shit, squander and vomit what makes them too oddly shaped for the mold.
oh good heavens, do we want to welcome the third world into just another hostile world? but one whose precarious equilibrium teeters at such a high level of intake and excretion that certainly, we shall all slip into a fiery whirlwind, only to be saved from concussions and death if we can get a sorry! off our lips in time.
up-following
Stephen Harper has claimed that Canada's decision to support Kosovo will have no bearing on Quebec. Read here: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20080320.KOSOVO20/TPStory/?query=harper+kosovo
Unlike my post a few days ago, the article focuses on the precedent Ottawa might set for Quebec by recognizing Kosovo's unilateral declaration of independence. It's not exactly what I was talking about, but nonetheless interesting.
Some highlights from the article:
"Both sovereigntists and federalists in Quebec underscored important differences between Quebec and Kosovo, which was marred by conflict and ethnic cleansing in the wake of the breakup of Yugoslavia."
Political scientist Stephen Saideman, a scholar of separatism at McGill University, said Kosovo and Quebec are so different that Ottawa's decision would have little impact.
"Over the past 40 years, Ottawa and Quebec have negotiated and bargained to give Quebec most of what it wants, whereas in Kosovo, the Kosovars never saw a chance of being a significant member of the political community in Serbia," said Prof. Saideman, Canada Research Chair in International Security and Ethnic Conflict.
But Alain Gagnon, a political scientist at the University of Quebec in Montreal, said Canada's blessing would certainly provide inspiration for Canada's homegrown independence movement. "[Kosovo] is a full-fledged nation that decided to exercise its right to self-determination," said Prof. Gagnon, Canada Research Chair in Quebec and Canadian Studies. "It offers proof that independence is a realistic and feasible project."
Unlike my post a few days ago, the article focuses on the precedent Ottawa might set for Quebec by recognizing Kosovo's unilateral declaration of independence. It's not exactly what I was talking about, but nonetheless interesting.
Some highlights from the article:
"Both sovereigntists and federalists in Quebec underscored important differences between Quebec and Kosovo, which was marred by conflict and ethnic cleansing in the wake of the breakup of Yugoslavia."
Political scientist Stephen Saideman, a scholar of separatism at McGill University, said Kosovo and Quebec are so different that Ottawa's decision would have little impact.
"Over the past 40 years, Ottawa and Quebec have negotiated and bargained to give Quebec most of what it wants, whereas in Kosovo, the Kosovars never saw a chance of being a significant member of the political community in Serbia," said Prof. Saideman, Canada Research Chair in International Security and Ethnic Conflict.
But Alain Gagnon, a political scientist at the University of Quebec in Montreal, said Canada's blessing would certainly provide inspiration for Canada's homegrown independence movement. "[Kosovo] is a full-fledged nation that decided to exercise its right to self-determination," said Prof. Gagnon, Canada Research Chair in Quebec and Canadian Studies. "It offers proof that independence is a realistic and feasible project."
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
wind breathing through trees
some days, i would be the strands of wind that breathe though the old growth cedar stands
some days, i would be the threads of steam that rise from Salt Spring's hot springs
some days, i would be the breath that rolls through the Okanagan hills,
that whips through the jagged peaks of the Rockies
some days, i would be the waves that breathe the ocean breath
some days, many days, i dream
some days, i would be the threads of steam that rise from Salt Spring's hot springs
some days, i would be the breath that rolls through the Okanagan hills,
that whips through the jagged peaks of the Rockies
some days, i would be the waves that breathe the ocean breath
some days, many days, i dream
Sunday, March 16, 2008
skyscapes and peoplescapes of a monday
It's funny how infrequently our nostalgia summons the memory of yesterday. Not the literary "yesterday" that references the summers in canoes, the recesses of Red Rover, or the birthdays that warranted a countdown.
Oh sure, those are good too.
But funny how scarcely we're nostalgic about the literal yesterday. This blog was borne of a fluky memory of fondness for a Monday when it was just a Tuesday evening, lying on my bedroom floor, papers spilled and spread around me.
I can't recall what summoned the fondness for that particular Monday. But the fondness for yesterday made me smile. I realized it was so close to the today and the tomorrow that I must be in a good spot now, not to be reaching back.
Oh but this comes with a disclaimer, it won't be long until I am haunted with a utopic, perfectly preserved memory of my wandering ski days out West. My mind has a strange tendency of distilling memories, preserving the most savory morsels of sun, adrenaline, flesh, rugged skyscapes, and peoplescapes to feed me on vacant days in the present.
But I'll wait until next Monday to reach back, today, I'll take today, yesterday, and tomorrow. There is really fresh jam waiting in my fridge for breakfast in the morning.
Oh sure, those are good too.
But funny how scarcely we're nostalgic about the literal yesterday. This blog was borne of a fluky memory of fondness for a Monday when it was just a Tuesday evening, lying on my bedroom floor, papers spilled and spread around me.
I can't recall what summoned the fondness for that particular Monday. But the fondness for yesterday made me smile. I realized it was so close to the today and the tomorrow that I must be in a good spot now, not to be reaching back.
Oh but this comes with a disclaimer, it won't be long until I am haunted with a utopic, perfectly preserved memory of my wandering ski days out West. My mind has a strange tendency of distilling memories, preserving the most savory morsels of sun, adrenaline, flesh, rugged skyscapes, and peoplescapes to feed me on vacant days in the present.
But I'll wait until next Monday to reach back, today, I'll take today, yesterday, and tomorrow. There is really fresh jam waiting in my fridge for breakfast in the morning.
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