The article in question can be found here, along with the video in question.
Response: I am transfixed in horror watching this woman bleed to death. Her eyes roll back and men clutch her dying body. I almost feel like I am there, crying and screaming along with the others, and one man in particular – older, greyer – appears to be her father, begging her to open her eyes and stay awake. The determination these men possess to keep her alive is evident in their actions, as one man tries to dig the blood out of her mouth.
I am shocked for a variety of reasons. One among them makes me feel very MacBeth: so much blood! There is just so much blood. I am shocked at the amount, I am shocked at how it pours from every orifice, I am shocked that one human can contain so much blood. Watching it pour is watching her life gush away.
I cannot even begin to fathom the pain one must experience while watching their child pass away so gruesomely in front of them, while simultaneously being raised to an almost mythical status in the Western world as the face of the victim in Iranian politics as a result of this election. Jezebel mentions that women were especially implicated in the importance of this election, and are among the most visible protestors. Now one woman has become the face of the victim for Iran, and I cannot help but think how often this happens in society, war, politics, etc.
Why is it always women? Why do I feel like it’s always women who are being made an example of, or a victim of? Why are they more sympathetic than men?
Or am I happier to hear that, as a woman named Parisa says, that women are screaming to be heard, who are “ready to explode?” I think perhaps I am, more so than I am concerned that they are victims, although it doesn’t stop me from wondering why women must always be the victims people see and remember most.
Self-Critique: I find a lot of what I say hypocritical. I complain about making women victims and the sympathetic sex, yet I write a post about exactly why these women are victims and centre my entire journal entry around a dead woman. My concerns are obviously, and primarily, Western. My feminist leanings are evident in that I am both concerned about how women are portrayed in these events, as well as my joy that they want to be heard, figuratively and literally.
My reasons for being so shocked are primarily that I lead an extremely sheltered life. Although I am willing to educate myself on what is occurring in other parts of the world, or even in my own neighbourhood, it does not really hit home until I see a video of what is happening to people who may very well be my age. I have problems reconciling the fact that we are the same age, and that while these events might not be acceptable, they are happening regardless, and someone there believes such excessive violence is an acceptable reaction to riots and protestors. My shock is, certainly naïve, and implies an unworldliness and detachment from world events, but also implies an unawareness of crimes perpetrated within my own country in its past and present.
My first and second paragraphs focus heavily on how things look. This often happens when I am watching as opposed to reading something; I am more focused on people’s looks and reactions as opposed to my own. I tend to focus on the details, like the man who shoves his finger in Neda’s mouth to help her breathe fruitlessly, as opposed to my own reaction to what he is doing, which influences my response. Instead of paying attention to what I am thinking and feeling and simply letting myself think, I must stop and watch again and again and dilute my original response until it lacks that rawness of reaction to such a graphic scene.
Cultural Critique: Western culture predominates my response. The belief that gruesome events only happen elsewhere is evident, as well as the prevalent feminist culture. The belief that woman should be heard is implied. Western society really takes for granted that women will be heard, at least a little bit. Of course, Western society is not without its own prejudices against women, so it is perhaps not quite as enlightened as I believe it to be in my mind.
The focus on appearance is a very Western cultural view as well. I feel very cynical in believing this, but I believe that perhaps her marketability as a victim is based in part upon Neda’s actual colouring, which is quite light, and her Western-style clothing. This makes it easier for the West to see themselves in her position, as well as the ambiguous appearance of the street – it could be any street, any woman, etc. That said, it has been a while since Western society, especially North America, has experienced such a violent riot as the ones in Iran.
I often discuss my lack of awareness, which is an element of self-critique I present often accompanied with shame. Western society is two-faced on this issue; it either shoves news on a 24 hour basis in a relentless attack on television, or it advocates couch potato syndrome, which ensures naivety by pushing Westerners into a comfortable culture of ignorance of what is happening outside their very small bubble. These two extremes are very protective of themselves, and often find each other in a sort of tug of war – there is very little middle ground for people to occupy within overconsumption of knowledge and starvation of knowledge.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Journal Entry: The Oil We Eat by Richard Manning
Response: While reading the article, I became affronted by Manning's attitude towards humanity. Who was he to tell others how to eat? I was offended at how he talked about food going to the fat in our necks and our bodies, and the disdain with which he discusses people who eat meat, and the veneration with which he refers to vegetarians.
It didn't take me long to realize I knew nothing about what he was discussing. I had no idea where the article was headed. Its title told me nothing, and simply confused me. How do we eat oil? I didn't understand. Don't we eat food? I am often confused and bewildered while I read the article, and I don’t understand where he’s going with all of this until a little over halfway through, which makes me wonder if I’m dim.
This subject is entirely foreign to me. I have never given much thought to where my food comes from, how it is produced, how processed it is, how it is transported, etc., especially when I began dating a man who worked at a rendering plant. I have seen the piles of bones, feathers, and carcasses dangling, and once I had, I didn’t want to know anymore. I realize now such ignorance is not doing me or the world in which I live any favours.
I suddenly feel disgusting, having recently eaten, and want to throw out the contents of my fridge and pantry.
Self-Critique: My last phrase was a gut reaction, made out of disgust with what my brain has just processed from a subject I never wanted to know anything about, in part because I knew it would be something I would not want to hear. My response is one of confusion, shock and disgust, born out of a desire to hide my head in the sand and ignore the evidence being thrown at me. I am in a territory I know nothing about due to my lack of desire to listen to what anyone would say on the topic, and that must is certainly evident in my reaction.
I find my own two questions interesting and naïve at the same time. It is so clear to me from my wording that I had never even considered taking the time to think about what food is, how I might define it differently from others, and how childlike it is to call it “food.” My ignorance surrounding the topic is then amplified when I realize just how much energy goes into producing food. I had not connected the dots, as I’m sure many other thoughtless Canadians have not, to realize how much energy was being wasted in the production of food.
My food values are strange ones, certainly. My family would sit down every night for dinner, and there would always be the same components: meat, vegetables (sometimes ignored), and usually some sort of pasta and bread. When I got older, I watched my father struggle with his weight (mirroring my own struggle), and went on a very unhealthy crash diet, which caused him to critique heavily everything everyone else so much as considered eating. This triggered an opposite response in me to eat as badly as possible, which included many processed and prepackaged foods, eaten and wasted by the bucket load. My response obviously shows my ignorance of the content and waste that I was shoving into my body; I should mention it is not only my ignorance, but my willful desire to remain ignorant of what I was doing, wasting, eating. Perhaps this is why, after having read such a revealing article, that I feel so disgusted with myself, my fridge and my pantry.
Cultural Critique: There are many cultures present in my response. First and foremost is the perpetuated culture of ignorance that media and the government enforces because it would be disastrous for people to find out what agriculture really does. At the same time, it might not be quite so disastrous, due to the culture of apathy and passivity, which seems particularly bad among Canadians, not only in regards to specific cultures, but in regards to all cultures that require them to change, or to actively participate in change. This passivity is completely detrimental to our current and future lifestyles, but because it requires not only someone to step up and take charge, but also for other people to follow and take charge of their own lives, going outside of the “accepted” norm, no one wants to go against the grain and take a chance to change.
Food culture in Canada and Western society is interesting. It seems the more we “progress,” the faster we want our food, regardless of its quality – it must simply taste like food and give us energy. That said, food culture can go in a few different directions. Some people go completely organic, or vegetarian/vegan, and take their food consumption very seriously. Others develop one of the types of eating disorders due to the obsessive qualities people propagate surrounding food and body culture. Finally, there are those that just seem not to care, so long as they are getting food somehow, either from the fast food counter or the grocery store.
All of these cultures clash to bring us a majority of people who are apathetic not only about what they are consuming, but also about how it is being brought to them. That final subject is often not even considered, until very recently, i.e. the 100 Mile Food Challenge. That said, the media makes people feel they are aware, and this awareness only goes so far as people possibly picking up something with the organic label at the store to make them feel better about themselves. This tactic is convincing and allows people to continue to ignore the real problem, as opposed to addressing it head-on, which is what people are claiming they do. This contradiction is due in most part to the apathy culture I referred to earlier.
This is a vicious cycle, and one many are unwilling to address with honesty and thoughtfulness, instead preferring to sit at home and pretend the organic label on their fruit is really a contribution to a better industry.
It didn't take me long to realize I knew nothing about what he was discussing. I had no idea where the article was headed. Its title told me nothing, and simply confused me. How do we eat oil? I didn't understand. Don't we eat food? I am often confused and bewildered while I read the article, and I don’t understand where he’s going with all of this until a little over halfway through, which makes me wonder if I’m dim.
This subject is entirely foreign to me. I have never given much thought to where my food comes from, how it is produced, how processed it is, how it is transported, etc., especially when I began dating a man who worked at a rendering plant. I have seen the piles of bones, feathers, and carcasses dangling, and once I had, I didn’t want to know anymore. I realize now such ignorance is not doing me or the world in which I live any favours.
I suddenly feel disgusting, having recently eaten, and want to throw out the contents of my fridge and pantry.
Self-Critique: My last phrase was a gut reaction, made out of disgust with what my brain has just processed from a subject I never wanted to know anything about, in part because I knew it would be something I would not want to hear. My response is one of confusion, shock and disgust, born out of a desire to hide my head in the sand and ignore the evidence being thrown at me. I am in a territory I know nothing about due to my lack of desire to listen to what anyone would say on the topic, and that must is certainly evident in my reaction.
I find my own two questions interesting and naïve at the same time. It is so clear to me from my wording that I had never even considered taking the time to think about what food is, how I might define it differently from others, and how childlike it is to call it “food.” My ignorance surrounding the topic is then amplified when I realize just how much energy goes into producing food. I had not connected the dots, as I’m sure many other thoughtless Canadians have not, to realize how much energy was being wasted in the production of food.
My food values are strange ones, certainly. My family would sit down every night for dinner, and there would always be the same components: meat, vegetables (sometimes ignored), and usually some sort of pasta and bread. When I got older, I watched my father struggle with his weight (mirroring my own struggle), and went on a very unhealthy crash diet, which caused him to critique heavily everything everyone else so much as considered eating. This triggered an opposite response in me to eat as badly as possible, which included many processed and prepackaged foods, eaten and wasted by the bucket load. My response obviously shows my ignorance of the content and waste that I was shoving into my body; I should mention it is not only my ignorance, but my willful desire to remain ignorant of what I was doing, wasting, eating. Perhaps this is why, after having read such a revealing article, that I feel so disgusted with myself, my fridge and my pantry.
Cultural Critique: There are many cultures present in my response. First and foremost is the perpetuated culture of ignorance that media and the government enforces because it would be disastrous for people to find out what agriculture really does. At the same time, it might not be quite so disastrous, due to the culture of apathy and passivity, which seems particularly bad among Canadians, not only in regards to specific cultures, but in regards to all cultures that require them to change, or to actively participate in change. This passivity is completely detrimental to our current and future lifestyles, but because it requires not only someone to step up and take charge, but also for other people to follow and take charge of their own lives, going outside of the “accepted” norm, no one wants to go against the grain and take a chance to change.
Food culture in Canada and Western society is interesting. It seems the more we “progress,” the faster we want our food, regardless of its quality – it must simply taste like food and give us energy. That said, food culture can go in a few different directions. Some people go completely organic, or vegetarian/vegan, and take their food consumption very seriously. Others develop one of the types of eating disorders due to the obsessive qualities people propagate surrounding food and body culture. Finally, there are those that just seem not to care, so long as they are getting food somehow, either from the fast food counter or the grocery store.
All of these cultures clash to bring us a majority of people who are apathetic not only about what they are consuming, but also about how it is being brought to them. That final subject is often not even considered, until very recently, i.e. the 100 Mile Food Challenge. That said, the media makes people feel they are aware, and this awareness only goes so far as people possibly picking up something with the organic label at the store to make them feel better about themselves. This tactic is convincing and allows people to continue to ignore the real problem, as opposed to addressing it head-on, which is what people are claiming they do. This contradiction is due in most part to the apathy culture I referred to earlier.
This is a vicious cycle, and one many are unwilling to address with honesty and thoughtfulness, instead preferring to sit at home and pretend the organic label on their fruit is really a contribution to a better industry.
Journal Entry: "Students Shot In Front Of A Camera"
The video I discuss in this journal entry can be found here, which I found via The Daily Dish.
Response: The title of the video is simple and straightforward. People are crying out and throwing rocks. The camera is blurry and unclear at times. A lone woman's voice cries shortly before shots ring out at 1:07 in the video, gravely wounding at least one student in view, surely more are wounded off camera. It triggers a shockwave in me, as the woman yells piercingly.
I'm shocked. I can't understand why such a response comes from someone with the clear high ground, but physically and in weapon. Rocks in a crowd versus a riot policeman's gun? Where is the justice in that, when all they want is answers? I don't understand why they aren't allowed the answers they want, nor do I understand the amount of violent response. This is only a single video, unedited, and I wonder how they got it on YouTube. I can't understand what they're saying, but you can hear the emotion in their voices, especially what sounds like a woman's voice, after the shots are fired.
I've watched the video several times. Each time, I don't see the threat; I just see angry people, who are not nearly violent enough to deserve the response they are given. They respond angrily to the shots: one man hurls a rock in anger while simultaneously trying to move an injured man to the side with others. I wonder why this is happening.
Self-Critique: My shock at the video is very naïve. While I have known the riots are happening, and people are experiencing physical harm due to them, I had not been able to bring myself to watch a video of it until now. My equally naïve demand for justice seems hollow from my comfortable chair in my small apartment, where the worst I hear are sirens and revving engines.
I am reacting to this video with shock and a strong sense of injustice because I recognize how morally wrong it is, but also because I have never had to experience it personally, which somehow makes it worse in my view, despite being away that I possess a large amount of privilege (i.e. white). Although the government I have grown up with is certainly not without its problems or corruption, but it has not and I believe, perhaps naively, could not get away with what the Iranian government is currently doing to its citizens. I think that is perhaps even more naïve, given certain events in Canadian history.
I find it interesting that I seem to fixate on the single woman’s voice, due to its difference in tone around the mesh of male yelling. Perhaps I focus on the woman’s voice because I wonder if I could participate in such a riot, in such close proximity to shots – in danger of being shot at myself – and doubt that I have the courage. I also focus on the emotion in the woman’s voice directly after the shots are fired, as opposed to the harshness in the male voices reacting to the same event.
Cultural Critique: My responses in both my original response and self-critique reveal the dominant Canadian culture of detachment. By detaching ourselves from what is happening overseas, one is led to believe that it “couldn’t happen here,” or what I have heard referred to as “not in my backyard” syndrome. This belief, that things that happen in the seemingly mythical Mideast, Iraq, Iran, Afganhistan, etc., cannot happen in Canada, the United States, or other typically Western societies is not only naïve and ignorant, but also ignores the past of these societies, which has perpetrated similar crimes in the past towards its own citizens.
There is also the racist undertones in these beliefs; that only such savage, underdeveloped countries could commit such crimes, and the barbarism of the shootings are amplified in the media to such an extent that it becomes as mythical as Western society’s views of the Mideast itself.
Western society, its media and government enjoy preserving and sensationalizing the negative point of view of the Mideast and its society, for it helps its own society to forget the similar horrors it has committed in its past.
Response: The title of the video is simple and straightforward. People are crying out and throwing rocks. The camera is blurry and unclear at times. A lone woman's voice cries shortly before shots ring out at 1:07 in the video, gravely wounding at least one student in view, surely more are wounded off camera. It triggers a shockwave in me, as the woman yells piercingly.
I'm shocked. I can't understand why such a response comes from someone with the clear high ground, but physically and in weapon. Rocks in a crowd versus a riot policeman's gun? Where is the justice in that, when all they want is answers? I don't understand why they aren't allowed the answers they want, nor do I understand the amount of violent response. This is only a single video, unedited, and I wonder how they got it on YouTube. I can't understand what they're saying, but you can hear the emotion in their voices, especially what sounds like a woman's voice, after the shots are fired.
I've watched the video several times. Each time, I don't see the threat; I just see angry people, who are not nearly violent enough to deserve the response they are given. They respond angrily to the shots: one man hurls a rock in anger while simultaneously trying to move an injured man to the side with others. I wonder why this is happening.
Self-Critique: My shock at the video is very naïve. While I have known the riots are happening, and people are experiencing physical harm due to them, I had not been able to bring myself to watch a video of it until now. My equally naïve demand for justice seems hollow from my comfortable chair in my small apartment, where the worst I hear are sirens and revving engines.
I am reacting to this video with shock and a strong sense of injustice because I recognize how morally wrong it is, but also because I have never had to experience it personally, which somehow makes it worse in my view, despite being away that I possess a large amount of privilege (i.e. white). Although the government I have grown up with is certainly not without its problems or corruption, but it has not and I believe, perhaps naively, could not get away with what the Iranian government is currently doing to its citizens. I think that is perhaps even more naïve, given certain events in Canadian history.
I find it interesting that I seem to fixate on the single woman’s voice, due to its difference in tone around the mesh of male yelling. Perhaps I focus on the woman’s voice because I wonder if I could participate in such a riot, in such close proximity to shots – in danger of being shot at myself – and doubt that I have the courage. I also focus on the emotion in the woman’s voice directly after the shots are fired, as opposed to the harshness in the male voices reacting to the same event.
Cultural Critique: My responses in both my original response and self-critique reveal the dominant Canadian culture of detachment. By detaching ourselves from what is happening overseas, one is led to believe that it “couldn’t happen here,” or what I have heard referred to as “not in my backyard” syndrome. This belief, that things that happen in the seemingly mythical Mideast, Iraq, Iran, Afganhistan, etc., cannot happen in Canada, the United States, or other typically Western societies is not only naïve and ignorant, but also ignores the past of these societies, which has perpetrated similar crimes in the past towards its own citizens.
There is also the racist undertones in these beliefs; that only such savage, underdeveloped countries could commit such crimes, and the barbarism of the shootings are amplified in the media to such an extent that it becomes as mythical as Western society’s views of the Mideast itself.
Western society, its media and government enjoy preserving and sensationalizing the negative point of view of the Mideast and its society, for it helps its own society to forget the similar horrors it has committed in its past.
Journal Entry: Family Diaspora and History
Response: Very recently, my family dispersed. It is the first time in 23 years we have all been further than a province apart, and the first time in 23 years I have been further than a 15 minute drive from my parents, T and D. They now live in New Brunswick, my brother, A, lives in Texas, and I stayed in Calgary with my boyfriend, S.
This experience has been very difficult for me. Being out of contact with people who are used to seeing on a near-daily basis to a "Well maybe in December if I have the money"-basis is a huge change. Perhaps the most difficult for me is being separated from my mother, T. I am used to my father, D, being away on business trips for weeks at a time from when I was older, although I am aware that he was around much more when I was little. My mother, however, never had to travel much for her job, except for a weekend or so, but that was a rare incident. Being away from her is the most difficult. A, my brother, lived away from the family for roughly a year or so, as he had moved in with his (now ex-) girlfriend in British Columbia before moving back home. I am more accustomed to not hearing from him for months on end, so while I was very upset to see him go, it is still not quite as isolating as being apart from my mother.
Like what I suspect are many other families, we all have a plan to return to Ontario "some day" in the future. My parents have bought a retirement home outside of Ottawa, so their plan has a finality to it, whereas my brother and I have nothing concrete at the moment. The thought that my family will never be "together" again is a frightening, sobering and isolating one. It makes me feel very alone, despite the fact that I am living with my boyfriend and his family, who have all accepted me as their family. The fact remains that they are not my family, and I find no comfort there, regardless of their acceptance.
Self-Critique: The most obvious reason for my reaction is that we've never really been apart, nor have we had to be. I have been taught that family is important - but not necessarily my entire family. There has been a lot of emphasis on the nuclear family, and I think that much is very evident in my response. Even more than an emphasis on the nuclear family is the emphasis on the physical proximity of the family, which seems to be extremely important to me, regardless of the advances in technology today. I can reach my family by phone, e-mail, text, I can speak with them face-to-face over the internet, they are only a plane ride away, but this cannot replace actual face-to-face, "right in front of me," interaction.
I believe I've learned these values from various places, but most specifically from the internet culture I belong to. There is much emphasis put on the anonymity of internet, which has taught me that the internet is not a "real" place. I have certainly also been taught this by my family. My mother in particular is happy for the distance she used to have between herself and her mother, who is in Ottawa. (Ironic that she is returning there.) Regardless, she taught me that physical distance equals emotional distance, which obviously greatly distresses me, because I do not want to lose the emotional rapport with my mother in particular.
My own emphasis on the distance between my mother and I is, I'm sure, a reaction to how she feels toward her own mother, and that is a relationship I do not desire to emulate, especially considering the similarity in distance, where my mother now lives many provinces apart from me, and I live in Calgary. This ties directly into my many mentions of isolation and sensation of loneliness.
Cultural Critique: The dominant, Euro-Canadian, white culture I belong to puts a lot of importance on independence, especially at the age of 18. Not only are children expected to move out at that age, they are also expected to be at University, holding a job, and just generally being very independent, which implies a uselessness of parents. At the same time, there is a huge emphasis put on the nuclear family, which ignores the rest of the family, and implies a strong relationship (although also tumultuous) with parents and sibling(s). I am clearly a product of this culture as shown by my response.
At the same time, however, it is quite clear that independence is something that is so foistered on to teenagers so early that they view it as something they adopted on their own, as opposed to being forced into it. Then they hit their mid-20s, and realize they have grown up rather more quickly than they would have wished. This effect, combined with living on their own, "abandoning" their parents for independence, and growing up and apart from their family causes a reaction and regression, which is entirely opposite to what society and culture dictates they should be doing.
Independence, pushed upon teens by dominant culture, causes them to grow up and apart from family early, and they find too late that they miss their family as it once was.
This experience has been very difficult for me. Being out of contact with people who are used to seeing on a near-daily basis to a "Well maybe in December if I have the money"-basis is a huge change. Perhaps the most difficult for me is being separated from my mother, T. I am used to my father, D, being away on business trips for weeks at a time from when I was older, although I am aware that he was around much more when I was little. My mother, however, never had to travel much for her job, except for a weekend or so, but that was a rare incident. Being away from her is the most difficult. A, my brother, lived away from the family for roughly a year or so, as he had moved in with his (now ex-) girlfriend in British Columbia before moving back home. I am more accustomed to not hearing from him for months on end, so while I was very upset to see him go, it is still not quite as isolating as being apart from my mother.
Like what I suspect are many other families, we all have a plan to return to Ontario "some day" in the future. My parents have bought a retirement home outside of Ottawa, so their plan has a finality to it, whereas my brother and I have nothing concrete at the moment. The thought that my family will never be "together" again is a frightening, sobering and isolating one. It makes me feel very alone, despite the fact that I am living with my boyfriend and his family, who have all accepted me as their family. The fact remains that they are not my family, and I find no comfort there, regardless of their acceptance.
Self-Critique: The most obvious reason for my reaction is that we've never really been apart, nor have we had to be. I have been taught that family is important - but not necessarily my entire family. There has been a lot of emphasis on the nuclear family, and I think that much is very evident in my response. Even more than an emphasis on the nuclear family is the emphasis on the physical proximity of the family, which seems to be extremely important to me, regardless of the advances in technology today. I can reach my family by phone, e-mail, text, I can speak with them face-to-face over the internet, they are only a plane ride away, but this cannot replace actual face-to-face, "right in front of me," interaction.
I believe I've learned these values from various places, but most specifically from the internet culture I belong to. There is much emphasis put on the anonymity of internet, which has taught me that the internet is not a "real" place. I have certainly also been taught this by my family. My mother in particular is happy for the distance she used to have between herself and her mother, who is in Ottawa. (Ironic that she is returning there.) Regardless, she taught me that physical distance equals emotional distance, which obviously greatly distresses me, because I do not want to lose the emotional rapport with my mother in particular.
My own emphasis on the distance between my mother and I is, I'm sure, a reaction to how she feels toward her own mother, and that is a relationship I do not desire to emulate, especially considering the similarity in distance, where my mother now lives many provinces apart from me, and I live in Calgary. This ties directly into my many mentions of isolation and sensation of loneliness.
Cultural Critique: The dominant, Euro-Canadian, white culture I belong to puts a lot of importance on independence, especially at the age of 18. Not only are children expected to move out at that age, they are also expected to be at University, holding a job, and just generally being very independent, which implies a uselessness of parents. At the same time, there is a huge emphasis put on the nuclear family, which ignores the rest of the family, and implies a strong relationship (although also tumultuous) with parents and sibling(s). I am clearly a product of this culture as shown by my response.
At the same time, however, it is quite clear that independence is something that is so foistered on to teenagers so early that they view it as something they adopted on their own, as opposed to being forced into it. Then they hit their mid-20s, and realize they have grown up rather more quickly than they would have wished. This effect, combined with living on their own, "abandoning" their parents for independence, and growing up and apart from their family causes a reaction and regression, which is entirely opposite to what society and culture dictates they should be doing.
Independence, pushed upon teens by dominant culture, causes them to grow up and apart from family early, and they find too late that they miss their family as it once was.
Journal Entry: Course Reflections
Response: As soon as I got those two e-mails from Aruna and Tracy before my courses had even ended in April, my anxiety went through the roof. How hard was this course going to be if they were already contacting me (us) before our Winter semester was even over? I started panicking when I checked Blackboard and saw there was no syllabus or reading list. Worse still in my opinion was that it was student-led.
I had attempted to take a course with Aruna previously, ENGL 492, but it was the fifth course and I didn't feel I would be able to give it the right amount of attention, so I dropped it. When I saw all this, I realized how right I was, and realized even though I was only taking two courses in Spring, it might still be too much for me.
I started panicking even more when I saw that there was a pre-session assignment, and that we were to start our Learning Logs as soon as possible. Pre-session! Learning log! What the hell was all this? Okay, I took some deep breaths and thought Japanese-Canadian interment during World War II sounded like it was relevant to the course, and it is something I am at least familiar with, so I decided to focus on that. I still worried because I had no professor guidance or rules. Without a syllabus or reading list, how would I be able to gauge how far along I was, what I still had to do, etc? I panicked some more.
Although that feeling was somewhat ameliorated after the first class and subsequent weeks in class, participating there are in the class blog, reading the articles from the Reading Room, taking notes on almost everything I did, I still feel as though I am behind, and what I've done isn't enough. Will it be enough? I'm both looking forward to and feeling threatened by my exit interview with Aruna.
Self-Critique: I'm finding words in here that are very similar to thoughts and feelings I had while writing my previous post on contextualizing my fear. Anxiety is extremely prevalent in my response, and I can safely say has been during my entire academic career. Why do I react like this towards University? I think there is a perpetuated sense of fear and anxiety surrounding what grades I will get and whether or not an assignment is done correctly, on time, etc. I would be very surprised to find I am the only student who reacts this way to University.
Especially telling to me is my use of the word "rules" and the words "professor guidance." If anything, this course has taught me that student-led can be just as productive and enlightening as a lecture-based class; perhaps even more so because students are allowed to voice and weigh their own thoughts without being "told" what the "right" answer is - they are allowed to come to that conclusion themselves. The fear I experienced at the beginning of the course was entirely manufactured not only by myself, but also by what the University has deemed "acceptable" ways to run a classroom environment.
I am most intrigued by my usage of "threatened" in reference to Aruna's exist interview. She has not only provided lots of information about the interview itself in Blackboard, but I have seen her earlier in the class, and nothing about her or her language was threatening in any way.
Cultural Critique: Doing this entry immediately after my entry on Fear is, I think, perhaps the most telling aspect of the culture I inhabit. This dominant culture perpetuates the same fears and anxieties that I and many others encounter on a daily basis as well as the fears and anxieties that can be found in school culture.
School culture is a sub-culture that some people never truly inhabit or understand. (I give the example of my roommates, who believe that because I am not working and only attending University, I belong to some sort of exotic spa. None of them have graduated high school, and they are all older than I am.) This sub-culture not only perpetuates and capitalizes on the fear of receiving bad grades, or having an unpleasant encounter with a professor over grades, but places this fear within a system so students are incapable of complaining about it.
This sub-culture is obvious within the words and phrases I have chosen, such as threatening and professor guidance. They exude a trapped atmosphere within students cannot free themselves; it's institutionalized, almost prison-like atmosphere in many ways. The very same University sub-culture preaches and is preached as the most "liberating" experience a person may experience during their lifetime, and is often discussed as a place where free-thinking and open-mindedness and anti-institution attitudes supposedly roam. This is, of course, a direct contradiction towards what is actually deemed acceptable in assignments - which are often written out by the professor for the students to complete, with preconceived expectations for which sources and the arguments they will employ - and the marks they hand out reflect that.
The University sub-culture is one that preserves, and indeed thrives, on the fears and anxieties of students.
I had attempted to take a course with Aruna previously, ENGL 492, but it was the fifth course and I didn't feel I would be able to give it the right amount of attention, so I dropped it. When I saw all this, I realized how right I was, and realized even though I was only taking two courses in Spring, it might still be too much for me.
I started panicking even more when I saw that there was a pre-session assignment, and that we were to start our Learning Logs as soon as possible. Pre-session! Learning log! What the hell was all this? Okay, I took some deep breaths and thought Japanese-Canadian interment during World War II sounded like it was relevant to the course, and it is something I am at least familiar with, so I decided to focus on that. I still worried because I had no professor guidance or rules. Without a syllabus or reading list, how would I be able to gauge how far along I was, what I still had to do, etc? I panicked some more.
Although that feeling was somewhat ameliorated after the first class and subsequent weeks in class, participating there are in the class blog, reading the articles from the Reading Room, taking notes on almost everything I did, I still feel as though I am behind, and what I've done isn't enough. Will it be enough? I'm both looking forward to and feeling threatened by my exit interview with Aruna.
Self-Critique: I'm finding words in here that are very similar to thoughts and feelings I had while writing my previous post on contextualizing my fear. Anxiety is extremely prevalent in my response, and I can safely say has been during my entire academic career. Why do I react like this towards University? I think there is a perpetuated sense of fear and anxiety surrounding what grades I will get and whether or not an assignment is done correctly, on time, etc. I would be very surprised to find I am the only student who reacts this way to University.
Especially telling to me is my use of the word "rules" and the words "professor guidance." If anything, this course has taught me that student-led can be just as productive and enlightening as a lecture-based class; perhaps even more so because students are allowed to voice and weigh their own thoughts without being "told" what the "right" answer is - they are allowed to come to that conclusion themselves. The fear I experienced at the beginning of the course was entirely manufactured not only by myself, but also by what the University has deemed "acceptable" ways to run a classroom environment.
I am most intrigued by my usage of "threatened" in reference to Aruna's exist interview. She has not only provided lots of information about the interview itself in Blackboard, but I have seen her earlier in the class, and nothing about her or her language was threatening in any way.
Cultural Critique: Doing this entry immediately after my entry on Fear is, I think, perhaps the most telling aspect of the culture I inhabit. This dominant culture perpetuates the same fears and anxieties that I and many others encounter on a daily basis as well as the fears and anxieties that can be found in school culture.
School culture is a sub-culture that some people never truly inhabit or understand. (I give the example of my roommates, who believe that because I am not working and only attending University, I belong to some sort of exotic spa. None of them have graduated high school, and they are all older than I am.) This sub-culture not only perpetuates and capitalizes on the fear of receiving bad grades, or having an unpleasant encounter with a professor over grades, but places this fear within a system so students are incapable of complaining about it.
This sub-culture is obvious within the words and phrases I have chosen, such as threatening and professor guidance. They exude a trapped atmosphere within students cannot free themselves; it's institutionalized, almost prison-like atmosphere in many ways. The very same University sub-culture preaches and is preached as the most "liberating" experience a person may experience during their lifetime, and is often discussed as a place where free-thinking and open-mindedness and anti-institution attitudes supposedly roam. This is, of course, a direct contradiction towards what is actually deemed acceptable in assignments - which are often written out by the professor for the students to complete, with preconceived expectations for which sources and the arguments they will employ - and the marks they hand out reflect that.
The University sub-culture is one that preserves, and indeed thrives, on the fears and anxieties of students.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Fear
Earlier this week, Aruna asked us to contextualize and find our fear, mentioning that the system tries to make you feel fearful.
I find it interesting how I fill my life with fear. I am obsessed with watching crime shows, particularly true crime shows, such as American Justice and Cold Case Files. I have been diagnosed with four (yes, four) separate anxiety-related disorders. Fear is a daily part of my life.
Putting my fear into context is a little more difficult for me. I can only assume I surround myself with fear for a couple reasons. Mostly importantly, I have never really experienced fear in my life. Most of it was manufactured by Hollywood, sensational newspaper stories, or other people's stories. I have never feared for my life, I have never had a near-death experience. My fear is purely the result of the system in the culture I live within. As a result, I eventually envisioned my fear for everything in the form of snakes, a phobia I was diagnosed with in my 4th year, but one that has affected me for a long time. Although my ophidiophobia has lessened, it is still a very present part of my life, and one I doubt I will ever fully be able to release, especially during times of stress.
I do find it interesting, however, that all of my anxiety-related diagnosis are surrounded around things that haven't happened yet. They all trigger my OCD, which is my defense mechanism to ensure bad things do not happen, and the completing the various rituals my OCD dictates me to do (sometimes with no particular reason, it seems) makes me feel better. This is my system to deal with fear, and being in therapy to help rid me of my system is frightening in itself.
However, I find my fear is really about the anticipation before an event happens, and the government, news, etc, all capitalize on this fear of anticipation of a horrible event. I have never experienced a natural disaster, religious persecution, or threats against my race or sexuality. I have experienced the fear of moving, and of my parents and brother (all of whom I am very close to) moving far away from me, which provokes the fear of isolation and immediate threat (i.e. if one of them was in the process of dying suddenly, would I be able to see them before they died?), but I am incapable of accurately and processing the reality of this fear because it so emotional and personal.
I feel that optimism has been quashed due to its lack of marketability. People don't want to hear how well things are going because that won't sell the newspapers. I dislike this fear-mongering culture because I bought into it so long ago that I feel I can't get out.
I find it interesting how I fill my life with fear. I am obsessed with watching crime shows, particularly true crime shows, such as American Justice and Cold Case Files. I have been diagnosed with four (yes, four) separate anxiety-related disorders. Fear is a daily part of my life.
Putting my fear into context is a little more difficult for me. I can only assume I surround myself with fear for a couple reasons. Mostly importantly, I have never really experienced fear in my life. Most of it was manufactured by Hollywood, sensational newspaper stories, or other people's stories. I have never feared for my life, I have never had a near-death experience. My fear is purely the result of the system in the culture I live within. As a result, I eventually envisioned my fear for everything in the form of snakes, a phobia I was diagnosed with in my 4th year, but one that has affected me for a long time. Although my ophidiophobia has lessened, it is still a very present part of my life, and one I doubt I will ever fully be able to release, especially during times of stress.
I do find it interesting, however, that all of my anxiety-related diagnosis are surrounded around things that haven't happened yet. They all trigger my OCD, which is my defense mechanism to ensure bad things do not happen, and the completing the various rituals my OCD dictates me to do (sometimes with no particular reason, it seems) makes me feel better. This is my system to deal with fear, and being in therapy to help rid me of my system is frightening in itself.
However, I find my fear is really about the anticipation before an event happens, and the government, news, etc, all capitalize on this fear of anticipation of a horrible event. I have never experienced a natural disaster, religious persecution, or threats against my race or sexuality. I have experienced the fear of moving, and of my parents and brother (all of whom I am very close to) moving far away from me, which provokes the fear of isolation and immediate threat (i.e. if one of them was in the process of dying suddenly, would I be able to see them before they died?), but I am incapable of accurately and processing the reality of this fear because it so emotional and personal.
I feel that optimism has been quashed due to its lack of marketability. People don't want to hear how well things are going because that won't sell the newspapers. I dislike this fear-mongering culture because I bought into it so long ago that I feel I can't get out.
Journal Entry: Queering Diaspora
Response: I find myself shocked at my own reaction to the article by Meg Wesling, "Why Queer Diaspora?" At the very beginning of the course, we discussed the topic personal diaspora vs. ethnic/religious/political/racial diaspora, and I commented that I thought there was no reason for the two not to be equally valid representations of diaspora. I am now finding myself wondering how people can justify queer diaspora on the same level.
This is not to say that I don't believe there are similar types of hardships surrounding the difficulty of coming out to friends, family, the town/city you live in, etc, and finding your sexuality so rejected by them that you feel you must move. I do, however, feel that there are inherent differences and choices to make surrounding these very different types of diaspora. In particular is the visibility of sexuality; it is a little easier to hide, so to speak, than gender or ethnicity, which makes the ability to choose your new home a little easier, and also with less of a sense of urgency.
There is also the problem about thinking globally about queerness and queerly about globalization. Do mashing these two issues together reduce the importance of one or the other? I do not believe that it is possible to address both of those issues equally while considering them together, and would best perhaps be considered apart from one another.
I do definitely have a very big problem with the parallel drawn between the disruption of national sovereignty and disruption of gender normativity, as Wesling puts it. I think it is very easy to see how this might paint me in the light of a homophobe, but I cannot allow such an unequal parallel to be drawn between the two. The disruption of national sovereignty is most often due to a visible difference, which one cannot hide, no matter how hard one tries, and one does not have to talk to someone to determine that their race is different. However, in the case of sexuality, one may assume someone's sexuality (much like one can assume race), but it is impossible to tell one's sexuality based solely on appearance. I am not trying to say discrimination does not occur regardless of this, but that it is a little less easy to do so, visually speaking.
Self-Critique: Wow. I definitely surprised even myself by some of the things I typed out and thought. I did not give much thought to what I was saying, I simply said it, and I think that is abundantly clear in the above paragraphs.
I am not thinking in terms of queer theory very well at all, and I think I am grossly misrepresenting several of the points Wesling made in her article. It is very clear I am not well educated on queer theory, nor have I spent much time researching it prior to reading this article. I am entirely unfamiliar with queer diaspora, not only as a concept, but I do not have anything to really base my speculations on aside from assumptions I have made.
I obviously consider LGTBQ problems and minority problems as two entirely separate things, when this is not true at all; there are people who belong to both cultures, and experience the institutional discrimination from both sides.
Cultural Critique: In the culture(s) I belong to, queer theory and LGBTQ rights are actually quite a prominent and popular type of activism. It might be cynical to call it thus, but it is a favourite "white" type of activism. My response, however, tells me that it is still quite popular to assume that LGTBQ people do not "have it all bad," and that they do not experience discrimination on the same level as minorities might in the same situations. It is still part of dominant culture to ignore the difficulties involved in LGTBQ culture, as well as to compare their hardships to those of minorities, as I have in my response. I also did not take into consideration those people who belong to both LGTBQ culture and minority culture, which is often considered a subculture of its own.
My response is telling. The dominant culture in Canadian society is still resisting LGTBQ issues from a minority stand point, and refuses to truly consider that similar problems can really be similar. This also leads to the point of labelling - problems belong in their own little, separate boxes, and should not be mixed. This mixing of issues and theories must be considered for this culture to move forward.
This is not to say that I don't believe there are similar types of hardships surrounding the difficulty of coming out to friends, family, the town/city you live in, etc, and finding your sexuality so rejected by them that you feel you must move. I do, however, feel that there are inherent differences and choices to make surrounding these very different types of diaspora. In particular is the visibility of sexuality; it is a little easier to hide, so to speak, than gender or ethnicity, which makes the ability to choose your new home a little easier, and also with less of a sense of urgency.
There is also the problem about thinking globally about queerness and queerly about globalization. Do mashing these two issues together reduce the importance of one or the other? I do not believe that it is possible to address both of those issues equally while considering them together, and would best perhaps be considered apart from one another.
I do definitely have a very big problem with the parallel drawn between the disruption of national sovereignty and disruption of gender normativity, as Wesling puts it. I think it is very easy to see how this might paint me in the light of a homophobe, but I cannot allow such an unequal parallel to be drawn between the two. The disruption of national sovereignty is most often due to a visible difference, which one cannot hide, no matter how hard one tries, and one does not have to talk to someone to determine that their race is different. However, in the case of sexuality, one may assume someone's sexuality (much like one can assume race), but it is impossible to tell one's sexuality based solely on appearance. I am not trying to say discrimination does not occur regardless of this, but that it is a little less easy to do so, visually speaking.
Self-Critique: Wow. I definitely surprised even myself by some of the things I typed out and thought. I did not give much thought to what I was saying, I simply said it, and I think that is abundantly clear in the above paragraphs.
I am not thinking in terms of queer theory very well at all, and I think I am grossly misrepresenting several of the points Wesling made in her article. It is very clear I am not well educated on queer theory, nor have I spent much time researching it prior to reading this article. I am entirely unfamiliar with queer diaspora, not only as a concept, but I do not have anything to really base my speculations on aside from assumptions I have made.
I obviously consider LGTBQ problems and minority problems as two entirely separate things, when this is not true at all; there are people who belong to both cultures, and experience the institutional discrimination from both sides.
Cultural Critique: In the culture(s) I belong to, queer theory and LGBTQ rights are actually quite a prominent and popular type of activism. It might be cynical to call it thus, but it is a favourite "white" type of activism. My response, however, tells me that it is still quite popular to assume that LGTBQ people do not "have it all bad," and that they do not experience discrimination on the same level as minorities might in the same situations. It is still part of dominant culture to ignore the difficulties involved in LGTBQ culture, as well as to compare their hardships to those of minorities, as I have in my response. I also did not take into consideration those people who belong to both LGTBQ culture and minority culture, which is often considered a subculture of its own.
My response is telling. The dominant culture in Canadian society is still resisting LGTBQ issues from a minority stand point, and refuses to truly consider that similar problems can really be similar. This also leads to the point of labelling - problems belong in their own little, separate boxes, and should not be mixed. This mixing of issues and theories must be considered for this culture to move forward.
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