A great loss

I am so thankful for my life. I am so thankful for the people who have moved through my life and made me the person I am. One of those people was Matt Sloan, who was found dead in Fredericton yesterday morning. It still upsets me too much to discuss where, and under what circumstances, he was found. Needless to say, it leaves me with a lot of questions. But, the answers to those questions will not change the fact that he is gone. It is a great loss to the world that he will no longer be able to light it up with his handsome smile.
Matt was a rare catch. He could play more instruments than I could try and count right now. He was always so proud of having learned a new one. He always made me laugh, and I think that is the resounding quality that I hear about him. The night I met him I was scrounging around in the fridge at a party, and I turned around to a gorgeous man who simply stated; "hey, I like your frames". I giggled then, and thought he was making fun. I felt that way every time I was around him. I couldn't help but smile.
When I left Fredericton -- where he lived -- he made sure to keep in touch. He would surprise me on skype, would send me messages saying that he thought I was great, or he missed me. Graduate school is not easy, and on the days that I would get frustrated, he never failed to make me feel better. I always felt lucky to have him in my life. Now, I feel very lucky to have met him and spent the time we did together.  
I have returned to Fredericton a few times since I moved away, and most times before I left he was the last person I saw. We would sit on his front porch and drink coffee. I always left Fredericton smiling. I know I will hold those moments for the rest of my life. I don't pretend to know what happens to people once they have stopped breathing, but I know that the memories we have of Sloan will continue to make us proud to have known him. He will never really die because he made such an impression on all of us. Life is so short, and it is mornings like this that I will -- with a heavy heart -- go out and enjoy the sunshine. I will sit on my front porch and drink a beer and wish that he was there with me. But, I will remember all the moments we shared (even the ones when we argued -- by the way buddy, I was right!...but I guess you can have the last word). Goodbye my darling friend, I am sure that somehow we will see each other again. I hope that I turn around to see you say "hey, I like your frames".

CreatureTenderness

This afternoon I made my way to the forks on the hunt for ethically raised beef. I have been a vegetarian on and off over the years. But, admittedly, I have usually put my wallet in front of the desire to know just where my food was coming from. There was always something about the consumption of meat that bothered me, but coming from a family that is very full filled by the preparation of food (especially meat) I have usually let my concerns float to the back of my mind. This week I have been reminded of my hesitations at the butcher. I have been reading Erika Fudge's Animal and, although I do not always agree with her, I find her argument compelling. What I have taken away from her book is this: we need to be more kind. Humans need to be more tender. The paradox that Fudge outlines is that we can be kind to the extreme to our pets, but we are not to the animals that we eat or wear. I would like to push this further. We are kind to the creatures (including humans -- because, after all, we are creatures) that are near to us -- our family, friends, pets -- but we do not always consider the delicate feelings of others. More than that, we often ignore the fact that they are creatures and feelings involved in our decisions. Over the last couple of months my MA research has lead me in a number of different disturbing directions. I have found myself welling up over the terrible experiments that were inflicted upon human beings. But, it only occurred to me today, as I was reading an article on the testing of hormones on rats, that I noticed that I was much more sympathetic to the human beings than the rats. I think this is because we can understand human suffering but we cannot understand rat suffering. Does a rat suffer? No, not in the way we believe it does. The only understanding we have is the one that we exist within. Rats have a distinctly different culture than human beings, and thus we cannot possibly understand their perception. But, that does not mean that we should ignore the cruelty that exists in our behaviour of these animals. The cruelty is the same whether we inflict it on humans or rats.  
There seems to me to be a lot of hardness in the world. Does it matter that we can truly "know" the suffering of another creature in order to stop the cruelty against them? Does it matter what the corporate justifications are for fracking a piece of land that holds historical and cultural significance to a group of people, if the result is the damaging of the land, the water and human health? At the core of our rational minds and hearts there must be the ability to know the difference between right and wrong. I know that I am talking about personal ethics and that some would argue that these ethics are debatable and individual. I do not think it is that difficult. In our hearts we must know the difference between what is right and what is wrong. Would you want this to happen to you? If not, you should not let it happen to other people. Can ethics be that simple? I believe they can be. Perhaps that makes me naive, and if so, then I am quite happy to be so.
We need to be better, bottom line. We need to work harder to empathize, to be reasonable, and to stand up for the rights of other creatures. It is not reasonable to destroy the earth. It is not reasonable to intentionally harm another being without provocation. Even with provocation, I find it hard to justify violence.
We will never be perfect, and we will always be stretching toward a better version of ourselves. The key to the betterment of our world is through the mutual tenderness and patience of each of us. We cannot expect perfection, or Utopian idealism, but we can expect betterment. We can expect compassion. We should expect more from our world and those people in it. We need more people like these strong women: http://narcosphere.narconews.com/notebook/brenda-norrell/2011/09/blood-nation-women-arrested-during-blockade-fracking

We can only hope that we can all follow in their example.

Being a mom and being "smart".

Ok, being a mom....I've been thinking about my role, and society's perception of this job (and privilege) a lot lately. And, after reading an article about mothers in med school, passed on to me by my best friend (who is in medical school, a mother of one -- preggers with another, and the wife of a soldier, currently at war)(http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/12/opinion/12sibert.html?pagewanted=2&_r=2&ref=general&src=me) , I realized it may be time to voice my opinions.
|An argument I hear often is that smarter people have fewer babies and thus the population is getting dumber. Statistically, less educated people have more babies. More educated people have fewer babies because it is more difficult. That is all. People like me (graduate students, med students, lawyers), are discouraged to have children because of the time they will take away from their jobs for maternity leave. Notice, the maternity in that sentence. The pressure is put on the women. As Sibert would suggest, women should not be part time doctors, they should be dedicated to their profession. I have heard a similar argument about lawyers and PhDs. We spend so much time being educated, once we are we should be present all the time. It should become our lives (and men are, therefore, more viable candidates for these professions because they are "deadbeat" parents anyway, and should leave the parenting to the mothers). What a load of bullshit. If you want a smarter population make it easier for educated people to have babies.
Let me tell a little story: Recently my babysitter bailed on me for this September (I am in my second year of graduate school in English Literature), and I rushed to find another. I did, but after needing to double check my course schedule, she gave the spot away. I have called everyone I can think of, and have tried to post ads. I need childcare for two and a half hours for four days a week. Finally, I got so frustrated I sat down and wept like a baby. I felt so helpless. I want to stay home with my child, but I also want to continue with my education. I have gotten through two years of undergraduate and a year of graduate school with a baby, and it has never once been easy or gone the way I expected. People have not been as supportive or caring as I anticipated when I got pregnant (despite their exclamations of promised support). My friends can't understand my concerns because, for the most part, they do not even have committed relationships never mind children. I cannot, and do not, fault them for this. But, often the reaction is "why don't you just quit". You have no idea how many professors, family members and so forth have suggested I "give up". And do what, I ask? You need two incomes nowadays, especially with both parents being young professionals. So, I would trade grad school for a job in retail? Is that more justified? Would I get less slack? Having worked retail for a year my answer is this: I would. People are much more receptive to you taking time away from your children if you are "doing something" -- suggesting that grad school is not "doing something". I have been told, blatantly, by members of my family to "get a job already", as if being in school is some kind of selfish endeavour.
As of this moment I still do not have childcare for the fall, and I can assure you that I question myself on an hourly basis. Should I just give up? After all, I am destined to feel guilty about every conference I go to, every time I stay late at the university for a beer with classmates, every time I read an article while my son is watching Backyardigans and so forth. But, then I remember that I am good at what I do. I will be a better Prof because I have a life -- I have a child, I know what it is like to struggle with money, I know how to balance my life, I understand boundaries, and I can multi task like a machine.
The point is that Mothers are good professionals, even if they may spend less time at work (ie. not be workaholics), or may take time off for maternity leave (do I even have to mention the paternity leave issue?). We need more help, and to be more accepted. Feminism is about being able to be WOMAN and have to be equality as WOMAN, which includes child birth, and parenting if we want to continue as a species. Being a mother is the most valuable job in the world. We create and raise new people. So, let us do that. Support us while doing it. Don't judge us and push us out of academia, med school, and law school. Let us be fully rounded members of the world. We can succeed in and out of our homes, if we are given options that make sense for both the society in which we work, and the families in which we exist. I love being a mother, and I love being a graduate student. One really does make me better at the other.

Money, Marriage, and Managing Expectations. (I could write a self help book...but I won't...because I need more help than I could give myself).

Good morning world. Now, I'm no genius and I have not looked at any statistics, but I am noticing a particular kind of stress around me these last few years and it distresses me. When my friends who have never had a mental illness in their lives know the names of every anti-anxiety medication on the market we can be assured that we are in trouble. This morning my neck feels like a petrified version of its former self, my brain is full of numbers and lists of goals, and an even longer list of things I feel guilty about. I'd have to be an idiot if I did not know that this is not the way I wish I felt every day, and I can see the same sentiment in the faces of my friends and family. Of course, as an avid socialist my first finger points at the consumer driven society in which we live, which tells us to consume more than just things, but also certain partners, relationships and so forth. It is interesting how we allow the media, movies, books and marketing campaigns create for us an entire ideal life. And yet, I do believe the most detrimental thing about this process is allowing these structures to define our relationships and our expectations within those relationships. I think it sets up an ideal lover that does not exist, and an ideal relationship for that lover to exist within -- marriage. I am not suggesting that marriage cannot be a wonderful, mutually beneficial, stimulating thing. But, to be the person that has to be a perfect lover, a perfect friend, a perfect partner, a perfect son/daughter - in - law, perfect financial contributor, perfect community member, and a perfect parent (or to-be parent) is impossible -- my god, blow my head off now. Then, on top of that, to have to be the ideal friend to your friends, the ideal child to your parents, the ideal employee and so forth becomes the incredibly exhausting endeavour. No wonder we're all on valium, zoloft, ativan, prozac, and so on. One would have to dull their minds just to be able to say "mehhhh, I don't give a fuck today. I'm going to read a book/take a bath/take my kid to the beach without the perfect packed lunch, and four extra hats/ bake some cookies with *gasp* white flour."
We need to be kind to each other, and lessen our expectations. These movies, for example, are terribly toxic for romantic relationships. We cannot all be what's his name with the nice teeth and the ripped abs and the easy going demeanor from all those romantic comedies; or what is her name from all those other romantic comedies with the cute smile, the innocence, and the 45 pairs of shoes? They have scripts, and they are representations of the ideal some other person made up in their minds. This is not a new concept, but I know I am prey to these fluttering thoughts in my mind when I watch these things: "why can't ----- be more like that?", or "see, that's the kind of thing that ---- should do for me.". Holy cow. No. Next time you sit down to watch any popular movie, please bring along an elastic band, place it around your wrist, and every time you feel the urge to think "if only....", just snap it. It's a trick I learned from ER, but hey, it might just work in this case!
The point is, we KNOW these are ideals, we KNOW we cannot possibly live up to the expectations set before us by commercials, or cute romantic comedies, but yet we still seem to put these pressures on ourselves and those around us. We do need to live more simply, but it is hard in a system that does not promote that kind of life. Productivity is king in a capitalist society, and people are more productive when they are working toward something they may never achieve (like the horse with the carrot dangling infront of its face). Also, extreme productivity keeps us from really considering our lives, wants and desires. We may realize that we are content with less crap in our houses (because there is less to clean and be responsible for), less hours at work (more time with family), less money (less fear of losing it). So, carry around your elastic band, and every time you get the urge to buy some extravagance on credit, or feel guilty for eating a popsicle, or for taking an hour a day to sit in a quiet place and read a book with your mobile device turned off, your tv in the next room, and your laptop closed, snap it. The next time you want to yell at your partner for not being perfect, or feel guilty for the same thing, snap it. Try to think about WHY you feel that way, really think. I know I am going collect all of the elastic bands in my house and line them up my wrists. People might think I am strange, but hey, it's about happiness and forgetting the names of all the pills that help us "deal" with our lives. Just take a step back and breathe. It will all be ok. 

Election day...hmmm

So, today is election day in Canada. I really have only a few things to say. First, we are so blessed to live in democracy, but that also means allowing other people to think differently from you. So, before the political slandering begins, let us make good arguments instead of bashing each other for being "wrong". That said, let's all think with our heads and hearts instead of our wallets. Secondly, Osama was murdered yesterday. Yes, murdered. And like in any good western, everyone cheers when the "bad guy" is killed. But, I ask you, is murder ok in any circumstance? Did he not deserve a trial?
I am torn today, and my head is full of questions. With privilage comes responsibility, but is that responsibility to kill another human being? It's revenge, not justice as a lovely friend of mine pointed out this morning. Revenge is never thoughtful, never fully considered. I am concerned about our world, as ever. I am just happy that today I was given the privilage to vote.

Hug a book: Create community.

Books. Oh books how I love you. This morning I noticed a trend on my twitter. That trend happened to be books and their relevance. I have begun to believe, in the last few months, that I am a member of a dying breed. I have a stack of books beside me in bed. I love their smell. I love the inscriptions I sometimes find on the inside cover of a used book at a bookstore. I love to sit and look at books, to feel them, to fondle them. I feel connected to the writer. I fall in love with books. This may say something about my preference in a lover - a page rather than a warm body (ahem, let’s set my love life aside). The more I talk to people the more I realize that perhaps people are less willing to give up books than they were Cds or DVDs. There is something about a book. This morning, in a tweet, someone suggested it might have something to do with the sigma of intelligence surrounding a book. Here, I had to stop. There are stupid books. Reading on the internet is no less “smart” than reading on a page. It is a different experience, that is all. I do not stroke my computer screen (well, unless it’s a picture of a really fuzzy cat). So, let us not conflate tangible books and intelligence. Let us associate books and the place they come from, the communities they create of real bodies.
Now, I do not have anything against relationships formed, or continued, on the internet. I have many friends I have never physically met. They stimulate me in many ways, and I am happy to have met them. That said, I am always aware of the fact that if I had a chance, I would love to sit with them at a coffee shop somewhere, surrounded by hard copies. I think this is where the break down happens between "real books" and ebooks. Sure, I am ok with reading Jane Austen on a kindle. But not Hemingway. This is not a value judgements on these writers. It is simply my personal preference. I underline in Hemingway. I like to feel connected to his sentences. I do not want to be interrupted by that strange thing that these ebooks do when they change screens. I want to tenderly turn the page when he writes about oysters and white wine. Let me have that.
Also, let me, for a second, tangent on readings. I cannot attend a poetry reading online and feel connected. I want to be in the room with the poet. I want to breathe the same air, feel the tension in the lines. Without that, it is not intimate. And if there is one things poet strive for, it is intimacy. I do not mean to limit this to just poets. Prose writers and playwrights also need to be read aloud, in a public space. We need to maintain a space to do that. Writers need community, and they need to be dragged out of their houses into the musky smell of a bookstore. Artistic communities are integral to the continuation of art. Internet communities can take us only so far. We need bookstores. We need coffee shops. We need art galleries. We need that which is tangible. We need more hugs, and more handshakes. We need to, as I said, breathe the same air as each other. We need to know that other artists exist. Some day I hope to see someone tenderly holding onto a book I wrote, so I can know it meant something to them.
Can you cuddle a kindle? I don’t know. Maybe. I’d worry about some kind of weird radiation. But, you can cuddle a book a poetry. It will like it. It will be happy when you write things in it. It will love it when you write a little heart beside a phrase, or a star beside a word. Make a book happy and by extension, make a writer happy. We write so that we can connect. So, hug a book -- hug a writer.

Happy International Women's Day!

100 years ago, an international day supporting women's rights was created. Now, 100 years later, many (and I don't use this term lightly) would try to suggest that the need for this day in the western world is no more. People would like to hope, and I do believe it steams from hope, that the equality we've all desired has been reached and that there is no longer a need for feminism. Perhaps, in the poorer areas of our countries or our World, women are being abused and unfairly treated but it certainly does not exist in our middle class. Here, I must break to scoff, and rant.
I do believe that the greatest majority of our work as feminists needs to be done in the developing world. And yet, I think it is important to remind ourselves of what we still have to fight for in our own worlds, in academia, in the super market, in the bus shelter, in the halls of our high schools: female solidarity. A distressing lack of this solidarity exists in front of my eyes. Women are competitive with each other, hateful, spiteful and condescending. We fight over jobs, over men, over women, over our own rights. This needs to stop. We have too much to fight for to be fighting amongst ourselves. Yes, we account for 53% percent of the population and own only 1% of the World's wealth, BUT, that should make us fight against this ramped inequality, not bicker with one another, sabotaging each other's success. Too often I have seen women become insecure in each other's presence. They puff out their chests like peacocks and become territorial and defensive instead of welcoming and kind. I am not innocent in this kind of display myself. What makes us behave this way to each other, and what has prompted it? As long as we fight amongst ourselves, and judge each other so harshly, we can not band together to create any change.
We need to recreate communities, celebrate each other's successes, encourage any life-decision should that be mothering, house keeping, banking, academics and so forth. If a woman chooses to work outside of the home, that is her choice.If she decides not to have children, that is her choice. If a woman decides to stay home and raise children, that is her choice as well. We need to CREATE opportunities instead of hindering them. As a young mother, I have witnessed my fair share of judgement. When I got pregnant many of my friends abandoned me. They did not know how to help or support me. Many older women suggested I quit university, in order to stay at home and be a "good mother". I was left alone, like I had the plague. I do not blame these women in particular, but I do blame the status of our society that has perpetuated this kind of behaviour. We need communities of women to be nurturing and supportive if we are to encourage change.
I wish there was such a strait forward answer to the rest of the injustice facing women. But, I can say that the collaboration of all women in a fight against these things: violence against women, the right to reproductive freedom, the right to equal wages, fair treatment and the list continues, is invaluable to our success in ending these injustices. So, for now, hug a woman! Hug as many as you can, as often as you can, everywhere you can! Through our friendship and solidarity we can make change!

Letters

I have thought often about letters, about the act of writing and receiving them. It seems a certain sensuality is connected with the writing of letters. The receiver will touch the page you touched, will feel your words with their finger tips. The intimate nature of writing a letter, perhaps, allows the writer a sense of confessionability. The confession will be held by a number of hands before it will be ripped open and read. And there will be no plastic screen between the confession and the confessee. It is tangible. And thus there is a sense of reality or truth. It is genuine.
I love letters. I love them more than most things in life. They're unexpected. They're beautiful. They let you know someone was genuinely thinking of you. I've had a few letter writing friends over the years, and we seem to have this unspoken closeness that does not seem to solidify in emails or facebook messages. We need more letters in our lives. More closeness, more confession, more sensual attachment.
I'll write two today. And you, good reader? Or, good void, as it were?

Activism?

Given the recent developments in Egypt I thought it would be fitting to rant a little bit about activism. I've noticed a large majority of friends/colleagues, begin to distrust activism and classify things as "passivism". Now, is any kind of activism bad? Just because people are doing it on their facebook profile pictures, or their twitter feed, is that more offensive to these "true activists" than doing nothing? Would "true activists" (is there a list of activities one must engage in to be part of this group?) prefer that, unless you're going to jump from your couches and take to the streets with placards, you do nothing? I can't say that I agree with the perpetuating of "passivism" (although I have fallen victim to it myself), but neither do I agree with a hierarchy of activism.
When I was fourteen I started taking out books on Lenin from the public library, I read everything I could get my hands on about the Russian Revolution. I read Marx for the first time when I was fifteen. Revolution was romantic to me, but yet I knew very little about the political world around me. I did not read the newspaper. But, I tried to get involved. I worked at the soup kitchen, I organized community events at my High School. I painted, I wrote, I tried to talk about what mattered. But, I would hardly have been called an activist, and I would not have called myself a revolutionary. Revolutionaries staged marches, they sacrificed their bodies to the cause. Revolutionaries do not serve soup, or clean ditches. And yet, I believe now that perhaps that is what activism should be about. Helping, making change through the modeling of compassionate behaviour. In the end, is activism not the attempt to make the world better?
That said, I look at the world now and I debate about the evolution of what we traditionally call activism. First, we marched with pitchforks, then we marched in the streets, and then we wrote letters to the editors, then we started writing blogs and then we started internet activism. I was convinced the days of taking to the streets were over. We had a new forum, and we could sit in our underwear and hack our way to freedom. The events of this week have changed my opinion. Bodies still matter, and can still compel change (whether or not we agree with the change they are fighting for).
So, perhaps my conclusion is that whatever kind of activism one does, it should move us toward the betterment of lives and the increasing of human compassion. So, if you do it in your underwear or with placards it matters little...as long as you're doing something.

Welcome to Blog Land, me.

Over the years I have had a number of blogs. I feel that I have grown and changed over that time, and so reverting to an old blog seemed like a step in the backwards (wrong) direction. So, here I go with an all-new, all amazing (doubtfully), hopefully engaging blog. Wish me luck!