When news got out about Notre Dame burning last Monday, this ubiquitous, media-worthy word – “tragedy” – sprang immediately into the headlines and conversations of the day. It was unthinkable that such an iconic structure could be filled with flames, at that very moment.
I have been to Notre Dame. I visited a lot of churches when I was in France. This was partly because I did much of my travelling with my Catholic flatmate, and partly because churches are lovely places to visit. They are almost always open; they are quiet; the candles smell nice; the sun comes through stained glass in beautiful colours; people from all sorts of countries gather peacefully. And the buildings are so old – there is a sense of wonder that comes just from knowing that humans stepped on these same stones many centuries ago, and that although their lives were very different from ours today, the things they saw while standing in the nave were almost exactly the same as what we see. It feels like a condensation of time.
When I heard that Notre Dame was burning, I was shocked and dismayed to think of the beauty and art and history of that building – one that means so much to so many people (as evidenced by the subsequent fundraising for repairs) was suffering damage. (Typically enough, as a francophile with an MA in French lit, I also thought immediately of Victor Hugo and how shook he would have been.)
It was a good exercise in critical thinking to talk with Sean about it. (This is often the case when I talk to my husband – about anything.) He did not switch to auto-tragedy-mode when he heard about it. He can understand why people are upset, but he sees the building as a symbol of the Catholic church, an organization of which he is none too fond. He sees it as the worst of the patriarchy and extravagance, not to mention a bastion of systemic, systematic, global, multilayered abuse. Also, it’s an organization that has a lot of money. He was frustrated thinking of all the funds pouring in to help rebuild this symbol instead of financing something that will make a real difference in the lives of those actually in need.
To his point about finances, it’s worth noting that Notre Dame has been owned by the French government, not the Catholic Church, since 1905. So, although the building’s use is “dedicated exclusively to the Roman Catholic rite”, the church is not on the hook for repairs. But we humans do have a habit of directing money towards… NOT the most urgent needs (a point illustrated by The Beaverton with the hilarious/awful article “Catholic Church assures billionaires that none of their Notre Dame donations will go to poor“).
I took a screen shot of this last week, because it is so pithy and true:
To Sean’s second point about the problems with the church, I also can’t disagree. I know lots of wonderful individual Catholics, but I am aware that Catholicism is an institution with facets that can be described as warped, monstrous, and immoral. (The Canadian Indian Residential Schools are a particular sore spot with me.) When it comes to Notre Dame, though, I argued that 1) it’s not really a Catholic symbol – France separated church and state ages ago and is pretty vehement about it, and 2) you really think we shouldn’t care about damage to historic buildings? You think you wouldn’t be awestruck, even a little bit, standing beneath those legendary arches? I think he would be. He loves history. But he is also upset with a lot of things humans have wrought, with good reason.
It’s nice to hear that the damage was not as bad as expected at Notre Dame, and that people have come to feel hopeful about it. But the point that Sean and many others keep coming back to is: it’s just a building.
Never was that more obvious than yesterday, on Easter Sunday, when – as groups all over the world pondered rebirth and second chances in their myriad forms – the news came that there had been eight bombings targeting Christians in Sri Lanka. For all the relics and art of the Notre Dame fire, no human lives were deliberately, violently taken – or even accidentally lost. It’s hardly in the same category of catastrophe. I’m sure large amounts of art and architecture and beauty and history were destroyed in Sri Lanka yesterday, but no one is talking about that, or about what “stuff” can be salvaged from the blasts. People are talking about the almost three hundred people whose lives are over, and the thousands of others whose lives are scarred forever. THAT is tragedy.
Funnily enough, I have not seen a single article about billions of dollars pouring into Sri Lanka to help in the rebuilding there. No one is feeling hopeful about this devastation. Resurrection is not forthcoming.
At the top of this post, I said that it’s been a week of “religious tragedy.” We could mention that in these specific incidents, the suffering has been mostly Christian, but really – it’s a tragedy for everyone when violence is perpetrated between religious groups. Every time someone chooses hatred as a way to express faith and make a mark on the world – and there are countless examples – it is a blight on our species. With these advanced brains, we’re supposed to do better than that.
Yesterday, as I often do on Easter, I thought about thawing and baby leaves and birth and greenness, and how grateful I am every spring for the shift into lively life. We got to take a walk by the marsh and listen to choruses of frogs and red-winged blackbirds (and we even saw a muskrat!).
At this moment, on Easter Monday, Earth Day 2019 is drawing to a close in the Eastern DS time zone. Where we live, it was a beautiful mild day when we could open windows and almost see grass growing. CBC’s top stories today include declining numbers of bumblebees in Canada, flooding in Québec, and Ontario’s “most anti-environmental” government in generations.
Here’s a photo that struck me the day after the Paris fire, posted on Twitter by Torrance Coste from B.C. (and used with permission): “This tree was 100 years old when Notre Dame was built. Others like it, part of an ecosystem thousands of years older than Paris, are cut down every day. The cathedral fire is absolutely tragic, but we wilfully destroy similar wonders for profit, and that’s worth reflecting on.”
Every time we think about a tragedy, there’s always one bigger. People are sad about Notre Dame, and I am not one to judge what makes people sad. People are sad about Sri Lanka, of course, and the Philippines, and Puerto Rico, and Mozambique, and the list goes on and on. And these wretched spots on the globe seem relatively scattered compared to We are poisoning/ flooding/ burning/ desertifying/ desecrating/ killing our planet from every source and direction. I am sad about that.
On Earth Day, I think we’re supposed to feel hopeful. We’re supposed to smile gamely and say, “Let’s clean up the world for ourselves and our kids! C’mon, everybody!” I do put on a game face for my kids and students, because we can’t just throw in the towel. There has to be hope to fuel effort… but I find it harder every year that we continue to be a stupider species than we think we are. We are terrifying close to a brink we can’t see, and I am confident that I will live to see things get a whole lot brinkier. Will we ever get serious? Will we ever shape up and quit bombing each other to focus on preserving our own habitat? As such irresponsible, squabbling, selfish denizens, do we even deserve to come back from that edge?
The new Captain Marvel movie, starring Brie Larson, was a rousing worldwide success when it opened this past weekend. Normally, I do not follow box office results – I don’t see lots of movies at the theatre and usually not even close to opening weekend. However, Sean and I made a point of seeing Captain Marvel on Monday (almost still opening weekend) partly because it was his birthday weekend and he has been a Marvel fan since before it was cool – and partly to stick it to the trolls.
Don’t worry, this review is not going to go into depth about how the most misogynist Marvel “fans” were so determined to express their disapproval of Brie Larson (who not only played the most powerful Marvel superhero while simultaneously being female but also dared to call attention to the white-male-dominated field of film criticism – and Hollywood in general – and its too-little effort at diversity) by submitting malignant one-star reviews to everywhere before the film was even released, thus revealing their own pathetic inability to cope with life and inciting both RottenTomatoes and YouTube to tweak their algorithms to counteract the bias.
Nope, I’m going to talk about the film itself. No major plot spoilers, maybe just good-moment spoilers.
As is the standard these days with Marvel movies, the writing is good, it made us laugh – and it also made me teary-eyed at one point. Thumbs up.
Some male supremacists critics said that Brie Larson’s performance is wooden or overly stoic in this movie. I disagree. It’s important to keep in mind that her character, Carol Danvers, has a) been training to master her emotions and b) had her memory damaged. But also, “wooden” didn’t even occur to me as I watched. I enjoyed what I perceived as a calm, smart, somewhat taciturn character – maybe even a bit shy – who is thinking hard, figuring stuff out as she goes. To me, she’s relatable. (Me being the Paragon of Calm and all, ha.)
Similarly, she owned her resting bitch face. (Which, to clarify, is more of a fierce “taking care of business” face.) And for the asinine legions who want her – and women in general – to smile more, the movie satisfyingly addresses that. And so do the creative netizens who photoshopped smiles onto male superheroes to demonstrate that it makes no sense.
It’s cool to see her running barefoot for a while at one point early in the movie. I wonder whose idea that was. And then, when she puts her boots on, hallelujah, there are no noticeable heels on those suckers. That’s one of my pet peeves – when women on TV who have serious shit to get done are doing it in spike heels. Ugh. High heels literally throw humans out of alignment and off balance – thus, they fall into my category of “apparel designed to keep women down.”
It must also be mentioned that the uniform Brie Larson wears as a Kree soldier is the same as the one Jude Law wears – and the rest of the soldiers. Tailored to her, of course, but fully protective (not seductive).
The fight-training scene at the beginning between Brie Larson and Jude Law is visually great. It’s not all close up and chaotic and shaky-cam, like so many fight scenes – it’s atmospheric and convincing and full of cool shapes. And it’s gratifying to find out that Brie Larson did most of her own stunts in the movie – wow. She did some serious superhero training for the role.
I dug the Earth-based soundtrack of 90s jams – mostly by women. Nice touch. Also, Carol’s band T-shirts, especially the last one. 🙂
It is so cool, and also a bit creepy, that they’re able to take Samuel L. Jackson and Clark Gregg, acting in the present day, and make them appear 25 years younger. How??? Apparently the company that specializes in this digital time travel is Lola FX. I don’t know how they do it, I just know it’s amazing. The effects are so seamless, you completely forget that these actors aren’t so dewy anymore.
I loved Lashana Lynch as Carol’s best friend, Maria Rambeau. Tough, savvy, and full of love at the same time. And she nailed the American accent – I had no clue that she’s British.
In fact, I loved the dynamic between the two women. Reading about the film afterwards, it was interesting to see comments on how Carol has no love interest in the movie. At first I was like, “Why should she have a love interest? Because she’s a woman??” But then I realized – most male superheroes do, especially in their origin stories. Spiderman, Iron Man, Captain America, Thor (can’t remember about the Hulk), Star Lord, T’Challa… not to mention (switching universes) Superman and Batman…. They all have a romance as a motivator at some point. I did not even notice that Carol has no romance – probably because the friendship is so beautifully done. And frankly, the movie is full of love – friendships, family, pets, you name it.
Little things I appreciated: Goose the cat doing all those kitty things; Samuel L. Jackson singing “Please Mr. Postman” (quite well!); Brie Larson’s messy hair; Annette Bening in general.
Overarching messages I appreciated even more: emotions and interpersonal connections as assets; single moms as superheroes; the importance of knowing and treating ALL people as people; the goal not to win wars, but to end wars; and the essential nature of perseverance in this human life – especially the female human life. (That last part is what made me teary-eyed.)
And finally – this one deserves its own bullet – “I don’t have to prove anything to you.” YES YES YES. This moment is so satisfying, Sean and I both did the quiet cheer in our seats. This moment is Shut up, manipulating coward-boys, it’s not about you. I have more important things to do in life. BOOM.
Were there things I didn’t like? Well, I don’t know. It’s violent, as most comic-hero-based movies are built to be. It’s not my favourite movie in the world – a superhero movie will probably never be that for me. But kudos to the team that made this film happen, because it’s a big step into territory that needs thorough plumbing. Maybe once the female superheroes are as ubiquitous as the male ones, we will see the ignorant boycotter types shuffle off the way of the dodo, where they belong.
P.S. Did you know Brie Larson was a Six Chick in 13 Going On 30? (She’s the one in blue.) Just a point in her favour, in my opinion. She got to practice that RBF early.
P. P. S. I enjoyed this article about the movie (though it’s slightly more spoiler-y) from an intriguing website I’d never seen called The Good Men Project. Digital fist bump to you, male feminists! <3
I feel very thankful today (and in general), to live where and when I do, especially as a woman.
I am acutely aware of the millions of women who are deprived of their human rights, both basic and intricate. I know that within some cultures, this deprivation is so embedded that it is not even visible to the victims. As my hubby’s anthropology textbook points out, “In societies where male dominance is pervasive, men learn to devalue women and to assume rights to control women’s activity. Women in these cultures learn to devalue themselves and accept male domination. These gender models are often conveyed subconsciously and go unquestioned. The are automatically accepted and followed and thus are strengthened in the society.”
There are times when this fact fills me with fury, and times when I just feel pride in that despite millennia of traditional repression and the very best efforts of the patriarchy, women keep figuring out ways to be more awesome.
I heard an interview on the radio the other day with the extraordinary Leta Hong Fincher, author of “Betraying Big Brother: The Feminist Awakening in China.” It was fascinating.
It’s hard for us Canadian-born women to imagine what it would be like for our government to forbid us from spreading ideas about our own rights. Here, even though we have misogyny and sexual misconduct in abundance, at least we’re allowed to say #metoo. In China, such hashtags are prohibited, but women figure out ways to say things anyway, in code.
Since I have recently gone into some depth on what irks me about the status of women right now in North America, today I’d just like to bow my head for a moment and say thank you. I thank the feminists who went before me, whose lives were so much harder, and of whose battles and suffering I am a beneficiary.
At this moment, I feel so grateful for the freedom and power
to speak – and write – my opinion
to make all my own decisions in everyday life
to have a job that pays fairly
to use my professional judgment in said job
to own property, rather than be property
to drive a vehicle
to travel where and when I wish
to expect gentleness and pleasure in intimacy
to raise my children as I see fit
to dress as I choose
to have had two year-long maternity leaves
to be responsible for my own money
to have come from an enlightened family
to have a feminist husband
to be, in the grand scheme of life, unafraid.
I know there are lots more things that belong on this list. For example, I could go on and on about how glad I am to wear stretch denim and sports bras as opposed to boned corsets… but if I set out to plumb the depths, I’ll be here all week.
For fun, here’s the Oscar intro by Tina Fey, Maya Rudolph, and Amy Poehler, three women of great privilege but who nonetheless are pioneers in the boys’ club of comedy. My favourite bit is, “In my experience, all actresses are outstanding supporting actresses, because women naturally support each other.”
What are you pondering on this International Women’s Day?
Yesterday, Canada’s new official Food Guide was released, and I am stoked about it!
For the first time EVER in this country, the Food Guide has not been influenced by agricultural promotion. Instead, it has been influenced by SCIENCE. As it should have been all along. Way to shake off the fetters of commercial enterprise, Food-Guidologists!
That’s Reason Number One that I’m stoked. I believe that a document meant to teach people best practices for feeding themselves should be based solely on actual best practices, as determined by people who study the effects of foods on humans (not by people who study previous food guides, or who study advice from people who produce a particular kind of food). It is time, as Prof. Sylvain Charlebois put it in the Globe and Mail, for the Food Guide to “depart from its humble initial purpose of sponsoring agriculture and […] finally serve our quest for a better quality of life.”
The next reason is, I really think it will improve Canada’s health. It says:
Eat your veggies.
Cook your own food as often as you can.
Appreciate your food (i.e. make meals important – share them with others, notice and enjoy what you’re eating).
Focus on whole foods and plant foods in your diet.
I see this as being not just about physical (especially arterial) health, but also mental health. Mindfulness, and slowing down, getting joy out of the simple act of eating, and having your fellow humans close to you when you can. Bravo for saying it explicitly!
As many of you will have guessed, I am not sorry to see meat kicked off the title of a food group. Its importance has been artificially inflated all this time, and it’s time to get back to reality.
I have been vegetarian since I was fourteen. (I might have converted earlier if I hadn’t been the middle of three sisters, the other two of whom had already converted and tried to convince me. I dug in my Taurus heels and only made the switch when *I* wanted to. But I can remember being traumatized, at age ten or so, by the idea of all those cows dying.) The summer I was fourteen, I attended an animal rights seminar at Camp in which I learned about factory farming. One morning I looked at my bacon – which I usually liked, but it suddenly didn’t look so good – and decided I would give vegetarianism a try. After that, I was so proud of myself that I didn’t look back. Not even while pregnant.
But I do remember what it was like to like meat. I missed ground beef in spaghetti sauce and hamburgers, and I missed turkey on holidays, and a couple of times I randomly missed the canned corned beef hash we sometimes ate during my childhood.
There are certain people who, when they find out I’m a vegetarian, immediately go on the offensive. I am careful not to preach about it – I don’t flinch when other people eat meat around me, and I’ve cooked meat many times for other people. But the very fact that I don’t eat meat compels some people to justify (vehemently) their animal consumption. It is one of those choices that offends some people, and that people feel entitled to belittle, though I don’t really know why.
It’s not as bad as it was 20 years ago. And it’s way better in Canada than in many other places. (I can remember being ridiculed by the man who ran the Chinese restaurant in France where I ordered a vegetable soup and then wouldn’t eat it because it had chicken in it. He scoff-laughed, in broken French, “This is a restaurant, not a vegetable!”)
Nonetheless, I still encounter people who are all caveman about their meat. Grrr! I get my muscle from this meat, why would I waste away eating rabbit food, bacon is LIFE, grilling animal flesh is my heart’s greatest passion, blah blah.
**Can I just note here that “rabbit food” is also horse food, cow food, elephant food, and gorilla food. The tiny fuzzy scaredy animal is not the only example.**
The cultural hold that meat has on people, especially Westerners, in 2019, is big and powerful, with sharp teeth and attacky-type claws. So it is utterly unsurprising that the meat industry doesn’t like being shuffled into a group with beans and lentils and of course that uber-pansy of foods, tofu. I heard a well-spoken and well-meaning beef farmer on the radio last night talking about the “disappointing” news, reminding listeners of how much more efficient meat is at delivering protein.
I feel for her. It’s awful to have your livelihood threatened. I feel the same for the workers at the GM plant in Oshawa – people are just trying to do their jobs and support their families. The bad luck is that they work in industries that depend on the rigidity of certain standards… which are now shifting with the times.
The protein obsession is hand-in-hand with the meat obsession. Did you know that one medium russet potato contains between 4 and 5 grams of protein? Nobody reading this blog right now is in any danger of a protein deficiency. If you’re getting enough calories from nutrient-containing solid food, your protein is fine. (So not if you’re that guy who only consumes Coke and Oreos. But basically everyone else.)
The other lobby that’s taking a hit right now is Big Dairy. It has also lost top billing in food group land. We know from the NAFTA milk disputes that dairy is a hugely influential industry in Canada. Milk has been equated with health and wholesomeness since… well, since at least 1942 when Canada’s original wartime “Food Rules” were published. And gosh darnit, we believe what we’re told. We’re following the rules.
Plus, who doesn’t love cheese? (Other than folks with dairy allergies?) Who doesn’t love ice cream?? And stuff with butter in it?
I admit, there are many dairy and dairy-containing foods I love. Quite a large number. But my perspective on them has changed in the last couple of years, since my hubby was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes.
He was not yet at the point where he needed medication, and he vowed to himself that he would get his diabetes under control with his diet. The doctor said Sean’s main concern should be losing weight, and gave him a list of foods to eat – kind of a low-carb whole foods diet, but not one that matched up with any well-known diet people talk about.
Sean did his own research and experimented on himself. He tried the ketogenic (low-carb, high-fat) diet – said to reverse Type 2 diabetes – for a couple of months, and did drop a bunch of weight in a short amount of time. For a bit, it seemed like an excellent solution. But then he also found that keto did bad and sketchy things to his digestive system – and also our kitchen was So. Effing. Greasy.
He did not feel good about that, as you can imagine. He spent some time trying to eat more simply, more whole-foods-based, but there’s too much grey area in a diet like that. Too easy to eat whatever.
What he eventually landed on, and has stuck with for well over a year (with some periods of relaxed parameters but always coming back to it) is the Starch Solution. High-carb, low-fat, vegan – the polar opposite of keto.
I have to tell you, if you’d told me three years ago that my husband would go vegan, I would have said, with a sardonic laugh, “Yeah, right. When pigs fly, fool.” (Okay, I actually probably wouldn’t have said those exact words.) In all the time we’ve been together – almost 17 years! – he has flirted many times with vegetarianism, and never stuck with it. Now suddenly he’s able to restrict himself way past anything I’ve ever tried, and stay true?
The thing is, Sean’s a compulsive researcher. The more research he did, the more evidence mounted saying that this was a way he could reverse his diabetes – cheaply, and with a much smaller carbon footprint, and much MUCH less negative impact on his arteries and heart. And other organs (which all need clear arteries to function well).
Also, Sean worked at an old-age home when he was younger, and he’s seen people with wounds that never heal and limbs that have to be amputated because they had unchecked Type 2 diabetes. He does not want that.
And here are some other things. When he is loyal to the principles of the Starch Solution, he:
feels great (to the point where sometimes he’ll just randomly text me, “Man! I feel great today!!”) – physically and mentally
has lots of energy
is digestively happy
barely gets sick – hardly even a stuffy nose
feels less drawn to junk food
cooks a lot more
finds his neuropathies (numbness in limbs) disappearing
has normal blood sugar readings.
Clearly, this is the lifestyle for him. As a result, our whole family eats a lot more vegan food. I am usually eating in solidarity with Sean (although I am less strict than he is), and I have to admit, I feel better when I eat this way too. Lighter, less bloated, more energetic. It’s not as hard as you’d think. Even the kids, who still eat dairy but not as much of it, have rarely been sick since we made the shift.
Obviously, the new Food Guide is not suggesting that everyone immediately start eating high-carb, low-fat vegan. (Can you imagine? Agriculture in Canada would implode, and the cave-people would riot.) Obviously, people are going to eat meat, and vociferously so, I’m sure. Cheese and butter and eggs, too.
But it is so, so nice, after all this time, to have a food guide that does not imply that you will be unhealthy if you are vegetarian or vegan. (My son has a friend who told him last year that he would be unhealthy because he doesn’t eat meat.) A guide in which plant-based proteins are not just dubbed “alternatives” to the REAL FOOD of meat and dairy. Now we can officially teach kids that if they are vegetarian or don’t like meat (and many don’t), or if they’re allergic to dairy, they will be FINE – or better.
Plant foods have incredibly healing properties. Plant fibre is what keeps our gut healthy. We need plants to fill us up and clean us out. And on a planet smothered with almost 8 billion people, it is simply unsustainable for everyone to eat animal products in the quantities that North Americans do. So plants will also be what provides for us to survive as a species.
Lovelies, I did not intend to make this into a huge post. I was just excited, and then got carried away. But since we’re here, if you feel like cooking tonight, lentil pie is a vegetarian WINNER.
And if you want more information on plant-based nutrition,
Dr. John McDougall literally wrote the book on the Starch Solution and has been studying plant-based eating for over 40 years;
It’s Monday, and the 2018 Climate Conference in Poland (COP24) is in full swing. Seems as good a day as any to talk about the Apocalypse. I’ve been hesitating on this writing, because I understand that a blog post about the world as we know it going down in flames is… a bummer of sorts. But I need to share some things with you.
I think we humans are trained to expect the Apocalypse to be beyond obvious. We are excellent at denial. Unless we can actually see a meteor hurtling towards us, or a tidal wave engulfing the Statue of Liberty, we will act like everything’s business as usual.
But seriously, isn’t it getting harder and harder to dismiss how badly we’ve f*cked things up, as a species? It’s biblically disastrous out there. The world is a fury of burning and flooding at the same time. Humanitarian crises are so ubiquitous and interminable that they become background news. Conscious bigotry has never been stronger. In the US, there are now so many guns that kids are getting killed by stray bullets, inside their own homes. And with all of our knowledge and progress, there are still innumerable humans who think we can afford to throw garbage around – both literally and figuratively.
This post has been brewing for a long time, but especially since October when I started working with my Grade 5/6 class on our Remembrance Day assembly contribution.
This class is a relatively small, calm group of kids who live in a nice, safe, pretty neighbourhood. The average income around here is very healthy, as is the proportion of highly educated parents. It’s a tight-knit community, very supportive. I’m lucky to teach at my school, and this group of Grade 5/6s is frankly lovely.
The sad part is that, as a group, they are not optimistic. They don’t think the future is rosy. They live their lives and have fun and get silly and run around, but they don’t see their adulthood as an exciting realm of possibilities. They’re not even sure how much adulthood they’re going to get. One girl has already sworn off of having children, because she doesn’t want to inflict the world on them.
These are 10- and 11-year-olds. They are smart, they think a lot, and they can see that we’re in dire straits.
We began talking about Remembrance Day from the perspective of why we commemorate it. Most of these kids have not experienced war first-hand, but they understand that they wouldn’t want to. They are grateful for sacrifices others have made – that their families, for the most part, have not had to make. They can imagine the awful things people have gone through. They want to show respect.
But… what has all the suffering been for? Has it earned us the peaceful world that so many humans have imagined and wished for?
Is the world at peace? I ask my students. No, obviously not, they reply. They know that wars are still happening all over the world. They also know that peace is about more than a lack of wars, and that even our part of the world cannot be called peaceful. Not right now.
We started writing about it. Here’s a list of things they worry about, in their words. (I’ve alphabetized for your convenience.)
Why the World is Not At Peace:
expensive child care
low income rates
not proper rights
people being mentally unstable
people not believing you
police getting off easy
It’s no wonder that anxiety and depression form the latest children’s health crisis in the western world. (And this list doesn’t even mention water supply, the issue I think is most likely to screw us all for good.)
When I was a kid in the 1980s, I worried about a lot of stuff too. (Most of the same stuff, actually. Things haven’t changed as much as I hoped.) I knew the world was dangerous and not within my power to fix. Sometimes this knowledge loomed large over me, and I struggled. But I never felt hopeless. I never stopped planning for a good – better – future.
Folks. IT IS NOT OKAY WHEN KIDS LOSE HOPE. They are built to be hopeful creatures, and they deserve to be. And we need them to be.
I think a lot of the problem stems from kids’ knowledge, confirmed every day on every branch of social media, that adults are not only human but A) a lot of them are assholes and/or idiots and B) they don’t know how to fix things. The whole role model situation is a total snafu. If you can’t esteem the available leaders, then nothing and no one is safe.
Although I was shocked at the cynicism of the discussion we had, I did my best to lift things up a bit. Yes, it all seems overwhelming and insurmountable. We talked about the value of attitude, of small steps in the right direction, of cumulative effort. When everything seems doomed, it’s better to do something than nothing.
Here are some ideas they came up with to improve things:
check in on people
don’t vote for Nestlé
fix the government
have a better attitude
have better laws
help people with no food
help places with no good water
kick out Trump from presidency
make a treaty
meet in the middle and try to figure it out
more homes for the homeless
more school safety
more women’s sports on TV
proper jail sentencing
ride a bike
vote for better candidates
we can share the money
I love how simply these things are put. Some of them truly are simple and feasible. And of course many of them are dauntingly complex and subject to infinite interpretation. Things like “fix the government” and “proper jail sentencing” could be debated until the end of the world.
Here’s one so meticulous it made me laugh:
show people what they’ve done over the years in a slideshow but adding every little detail in public
And another that didn’t make me laugh at all, because I know it was seriously written:
last resort leaving Earth and live on the Moon
As though we’d be any better behaved on the moon. Sigh.
Right now, Sir David Attenborough is doing his best to tell changemakers that THIS IS SERIOUS AND REAL, ALREADY. As did Mark Ruffalo and Cher and co. in the Liberatum film “In This Climate” and Leo DiCaprio in his film “Before the Flood.”
These UN climate change conferences have been going on since 1995 (hence “COP24” – 24 years of talking about this problem and watching it get worse). In October, the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) told us the outlook was considerably worse than previously thought… And we talked about that for a few days – and moved on.
It feels like forever that people have been saying We need to do something, we need to fix this as other people deny the whole thing… And here’s us, as a species, still squabbling about stupid stuff, as though selfishness and hatred were sustainable options.
This is not fair to the kids. Sean and I know that our children are taking in practically everything we say (when we’re having our own conversations – not when we’re asking them to do things) – and it’s a huge burden on them just knowing things about the state of the world. They fret and worry, and we try to say less when they can hear us. It’s not that we want them to be oblivious, but at six and nine, they need time to build up the good anticipation that will help them to persevere as the shit continues to hit the fan.
On the bright side, things we do to change the world for the better are often overlapping and symbiotic. They can improve many layers of a situation. As Rebecca Solnit pointed out ofter the IPCC’s announcement, climate action is human rights. There is still a worst-case scenario and a best-case scenario for our species on this planet, and we owe it to everybody to shoot for the latter.
I promise that my next post will be less depressing.
Recently, I had the chance to catch up with an old friend whose family was expecting their third child: a daughter, after two sons. [Actually, I started this post more than a month ago, and as it happens, said daughter was born TODAY, early this morning! So read on, in honour of wee baby EC’s birth day.] This friend is from a two-son, no-daughter family himself. He said, “I should pick your brain sometime about how to raise a girl. I’ll have no idea what I’m doing.”
I’d like to say that I have all the answers, since a) I am a daughter and b) I have a daughter I’ve managed to get to age 5 relatively unscathed.
Always wipe front to back
Don’t over-clean and irritate those girl parts
Keep a close eye on her interactions with her big brothers, because it’s easy for big brothers to abuse their power without realizing it.
Annnnd… that’s about the only straightforward advice I have. As soon as you’re past the diaper stage – and sometimes while you’re still in it – other things that differentiate raising a girl from raising a boy get sticky and complicated.
Once upon a time, I was a girl. (Still am, in some ways.) I was always happy and proud to be one, and never wished I were a boy – girls are the best! I was fortunate to have many strong, wise, smart female role models in my life, including my mom, my aunts, and my grandmothers. Also, I grew up between two sisters (with a brother as well), and my best friends were all girls (past about age 5).
Now I’m a grown-up woman, and I still wouldn’t trade that for anything. There are lots of awesome and basically magical things about being a female human. That being said, I have come to understand a lot more about the blood, sweat, and tears that went into the status of womanhood today, and the breadth of the progress we have yet to make. I’ve thought and read and discussed a lot about what feminism means to me now, as a mother and as a teacher. Often, the process makes me mad, and always, it makes me feel fiercely protective of my little girl.
Obviously, girls, like all children, are individuals. The main things you can justifiably say about “Girls” as a group are not about their personalities, hobbies, habits, or tendencies. They are about the ways society sees and treats them. In my career I have taught literally hundreds of girls between the ages of three and eighteen, observing and getting to know them in many different contexts.
Here are a few thoughts that I hope will be helpful – or they may just confuse things worse than ever. But I think they’re important.
Pretty is as pretty does
The wish to be physically appealing is extremely powerful. I believe that this is partly instinctive, but mightily reinforced by the media. Society teaches girls and women that making themselves pretty should be their top priority.
Not too long ago, it was our duty to be pretty for men. Nowadays, it’s ostensibly for “us” – the company line is that it’s empowering to feel beautiful. Frankly, this is often true. Most women I know do feel most confident when they know they look good. I’m sure most men are the same.
Where the empowerment argument falls down is that the standards for women are flat-out ridiculous. As in, the consumer engine is all up in our appearances, down to Every. Single. Detail. Not just the quality of our hair and the state of our toenails, but everything in between, including the consistency of our breasts and the look of our vulvas. (And when I mention hair, I mean ALL the hair, in EVERY place.) There is no part of the external female anatomy that is exempt from society’s opinion.
And the expectation is perfection, literally. Women’s products are designed to minimize or conceal “imperfections” – or even “correct” them, as though every unique quirk of our bodies is a MISTAKE. I feel the outrageousness of this as I write it, but sadly, it’s no exaggeration. Society’s collective sense of entitlement to judge female people on and by their looks is inescapable and crushing. The engine never stops, because there are people making obscene amounts of money off of women feeling bad about themselves.
Tiny girls are able to love themselves and their appearances naturally and abundantly. Sean was worried at one point because AB loves to admire herself in the mirror, strike cool poses and so on – is she too focused on her looks? Will she grow up vain?
But this time of a little girl being able to enjoy her reflection without self-judgment and criticism is fleeting. Due to the above phenomenon, a girl’s self-esteem is often extremely fragile. I was already worrying about whether my body was good enough by the time I was nine (ballet class did not help in that regard, even though I adored ballet) and I fretted about my crooked teeth as soon as I got them, which was even earlier. Every insecurity a girl can have is promptly and thoroughly validated by the media. I watch my daughter enjoying her beauty, and it squeezes my heart. I know all too well the self-consciousness that creeps in, so soon, on young girls.
So here’s a quandary: do I tell my daughter she’s beautiful to reinforce her confidence, or treat appearance as unimportant so that she will focus on her character and skills? (The internet is all over both sides of this argument, BTW. It’s no help.) Personally, I try to do both. I tell her she’s beautiful often, because I can’t pretend that Beauty isn’t an issue. She IS beautiful, and she will need this knowledge-ammo to fight off the counter-messages. Plus… we all know it feels good to hear that. (She tells me I’m beautiful too, with sincerity and delight, usually when I wear a skirt or something pink – or any outfit she chose for me.)
[Here is a wonderful blog post about a mom who learned, for her daughters’ sake, to agree with them that she was beautiful. This had a big impact on me when I first read it, back when my own daughter was baby. Since then, I try very hard not to be self-critical in front of my kids. And in general (though that’s harder).]
We also talk about her character on a regular basis, discussing almost every day what makes a good friend, how much we learn from hard work, what courage looks like, and other traits we want to foster. I only use the word ugly when we’re talking about certain behaviours (which could be another whole post). I want her to know deep down, as she grows, that in real life, inner beauty is the greatest determining factor of overall beauty.
Nurturing is for everybody
Society may have been telling girls that we want to play with dolls for generations, but it’s not out of the blue. The nurturing tendency among girls is not solely a learned thing. As my daughter already knows, girls are born with all their eggs already in place in their bodies (in fact, AB seems quite proud of this). It makes sense that certain instincts come with them. Even in families trying hard to avoid gender-norming their kids, you often have tiny toddler girls pretending to be mamas (and tiny toddler boys who freak out with excitement around construction equipment). Many’s the kindergarten girl I’ve seen taking a random object – like a block or a chalkboard eraser – and mothering it.
I guess it’s not surprising that so many of the vocations dominated by women – child care, education, nursing, veterinary medicine, home health care, social work, not to mention parenting – are those in which the nurturing instincts are an asset. I am proud of the skills and accomplishments of these women, as well as those of the women who pioneer in male-dominated fields, who deal with chauvinism every day in order to pound their boots on that glass ceiling.
At some point, my daughter will have to contend with all this. Particularly divisive are the many perceptions that complicate a woman’s choice to mother – or not. “Parenting isn’t real work”… “Working mothers can’t fully succeed in their careers”… “A woman isn’t a real woman until she’s a mother” … and many more, often in conflict with each other. For now, though, I encourage my daughter to nurture (as well as to build things, play with trucks, and so on) – and I encourage the caring tendency in my son, too. We all need comfort and care, at every age. The world needs more nurturing, always, from everyone.
Pink is STUPID… Or AWESOME
I looooved pink when I was little girl. Then, around age 12, I went off it and didn’t start to enjoy it again until I was an adult. That’s partly because I came of age in the 90s – grunge and pink didn’t mix well – but partly because I saw it as a dumb, girly colour. Which is awful. I hate that I internalized that message for so long. Pink is fun. It’s happy.
It might also be a little bit of a trap. When my daughter was born, I didn’t want her to feel like she had to choose pink as the be-all and end-all of everything. But of course, people love to buy cute pink clothes for girl babies (and they areadorable). Although I dressed her in all the colours, as soon as she began choosing for herself, she overwhelmingly chose pink. These days, purple and turquoise (thanks, Frozen) are also really popular, and she loves multicoloured things… But nothing can sway her love of pink.
The part that makes a protective parent mad is when you go to the toy section of a department store and find your totally-pink aisle and your zero-pink aisle. As though there’s no middle ground, for anyone. Really?? In the 21st century?
Here’s a question I can’t answer: is it good that they’ve started making “girl” Lego? Because it seems like you shouldn’t have to – Lego is for everyone (with strong and able fingers). But then… I’ll be honest. I probably would have done lots more fine-motor play-building if I’d had more colours and shapes to work with. When we gave AB a Lego set with all sorts of colours (including pink and purple and turquoise) and lots of random wheels and windows and funny parts, BOTH kids got really excited and built like crazy. More variety = MORE FUN.
[On the topic of pink, dolls, and many other very pertinent things, I highly recommend “Cinderella Ate My Daughter“, by Peggy Orenstein, to be read by EVERYONE with girls in their lives.]
No means No. Except when it doesn’t.
Girls start out quite knowledgeable about their physical boundaries. Society blurs that line for them, however, from a very young age. There are a million insidious messages about how a woman should be, permeating a girl’s psyche as she grows. We should be kind, gracious, altruistic, polite, agreeable, generous, accepting, and friendly. All great qualities – I aspire to them myself, and encourage them in all the children I know. The problem arises when they are so ingrained, to the exclusion of other qualities, that they affect a girl’s protection of her boundaries.
Even in 2018, there are potent forces telling girls and women to avoid being confrontational, defensive, or inconvenient. I see ALL THE TIME our tendency to sacrifice ourselves and enable other people – sometimes in good ways and sometimes in bad. On the one hand, you have the professions I mentioned earlier in which women care and give every day in extraordinary ways. On the other hand, you have millions of women becoming recipients of unwanted sexual attention, language, and/or contact, from men who exploit that politeness, friendliness, acceptance, and the desire not to make a fuss or be a pain. And please don’t misunderstand: I do not blame the women. This stems from the burden of centuries of misogyny.
[Here is an excellent article about sex from a woman’s perspective that I honestly believe every woman who’s ever been sexually active, no matter how good her sex life may be, can relate to on some level. And here is a post I wrote when AB was a toddler about managing the complexities of the physical relationship between her and my son.]
My Hubbibi and I have had many earnest conversations about the word NO, especially regarding our kids. I know that sometimes no doesn’t really mean no… Sometimes kids screech and giggle “no” during a physical game when they actually enjoy it and want to continue. BUT. I don’t think it’s up to me or anyone else to decide which Nos are real and which aren’t. Not even if parents (for example) traditionally have that leeway. Some words MUST mean what they say. I always tell students: “When someone says stop, you must stop.”
If “Stop” and “No” are open for interpretation, how does a person make herself clear? If people feel entitled to construe another person’s “No” however they like, then you have… well, you have the status quo. You have #metoo, in its millions.
Don’t even get me started on the folks who object to the new Ontario Sex Ed curriculum that finally takes on consent. Keep kids in the dark about sexual health and of course they will be blindsided.
The Herbivore’s Dilemma
To take the above idea even further, girls learn young that the dangers they face can be grave indeed. Consensus says that girls aren’t safe by themselves. Young boys are in a similar category – all children have to be careful of “stranger danger” – but as we get older, the understanding deepens for women. It is an extraordinarily strong (and trained) woman who is physically able to overpower your average adult male. In the Survival Game of reality, female humans are the Herbivores – for their whole lives. Depressingly, this is a biological and statistical truth. We are the prey. We are always aware of it. It is part of our everyday existence to avoid situations that leave us vulnerable to predators.
In my mind, this is the most deep-seated reason why so many women had a profound emotional response to Wonder Woman. We vicariously walked with her right into danger, and just dealt with it like a BOSS. The idea of being unafraid, of knowing you can protect yourself and your people… That’s the dream. it’s huge.
I wish it were unnecessary, but I will be teaching my daughter everything I know about personal protection. [Here is a pretty good article that covers many of the things I learned in a personal protection workshop I took a few years ago. We also learned how to put up our “fence” – guarding hands – and say loudly and aggressively, “Back off!” and if that doesn’t work, “Back the f*ck off!!!” Haven’t shared that with AB yet, but apparently it can help a lot.]
Contradictions, Hypocrisy, and Injustice
Last year at OELC iArts, it was my privilege to have an in-depth discussion with our group of Dance Majors, based on the question “What bugs you about the way society treats girls?” These junior high students know what’s up. They are angered by the impossible standards of beauty, and the way that all forms of media prey on their insecurities.
Even more, the double standards in their daily lives are infuriating. Boys get away with all kinds of things that girls can’t. Boys can, for example, wear basically whatever they want. Girls are not allowed to violate the dress code – it’s distracting (to boys) – always the girl’s fault… but short shorts are IN. It’s impossible to be fashionable and adhere to the dress code. Girls reported being made to wear random lost-and-found shirts to cover up visible bra straps – but god forbid they should propose removing the bra to solve the problem. Already, in Grade 7, the sexualization of EVERYTHING involving girls is rampant.
There’s a lot of unfairness. And a lot of pain. The unspoken expectations, the things that are just easier for boys, the things boys – and men – feel entitled to say and do around and to girls, the things that society says girls need to care about, the things it won’t let them do…. It’s a LOT.
Furthermore, the mixed messages start right away, and never stop. Girls can do anything boys can… but in reality, they are not treated the same. Girls should do everything in their power to be pretty, but they should not care or even really be aware of it. Women should own their sexuality, but not TOO much. Women should act more like men when they lead, but if they do they’ll be called cold and heartless – and people will still feel entitled to comment on their appearance.
As a family with two living children, a boy and a girl, things are sticky sometimes. Double-standards and mixed messages have to be dealt with, often on the fly as they come up. I try to be as honest as I can about how things are, within age-appropriate limits. We discuss how people grow up with different ideas about how to treat others, and then we think together about what we believe is right. My kids are already pretty thoughtful and astute people in many ways, and have some wise things to say. They know that we will never shut down their questions or invalidate their frustrations – and that we will love them no matter what. We hope that’s enough.
Dilovely, didn’t you say “Scary But Hopeful”?
Okay, right. I acknowledge that this started out as parenting advice and became a feminist Di-atribe. (And I almost apologized for it, then backspaced. Because raising a daughter to live fully in this world = FEMINISM. No apologies.)
Yes, my understanding of, and frustration with, the status quo for women has grown with every year that goes by. It seems like, in this day and age, in a country like Canada, we should be over the silliness. Over the stupid beauty standards, the antiquated attitudes, and the misogyny so deeply embedded that some people don’t even see it. At times, it feels like we haven’t come nearly as far as we should, given the work that has gone into dismantling the patriarchy. Sometimes it even feels like we’re regressing.
However! I am also very grateful to raise my family in this place and time. Here and now, I do feel safe most of the time, and my daughter does too. Girls attend school – at all levels – in numbers that couldn’t have been imagined a century ago. We explicitly teach about consent. The pay gap is a household topic of conversation. The Prime Minister’s latest budget focused heavily on improving the lives of women. The Cabinet has gender parity. Awesome female heroes are more and more visible in movies and TV shows – and in real life too.
[If you need inspiration, news, resources, book lists, blog posts, or anything else to learn about girls or help girls learn about themselves, please mine the riches of A Mighty Girl. It is an absolute treasure trove and will make you feel better about the world.]
I’m grateful for the campaigns that mainstream companies are working on, because although they’re not without difficulties, they are highly visible and they do seep into the public consciousness. Dove’s Campaign for Real Beauty has done some good work, bringing up issues mothers and daughters need to consider. And the original #likeagirl video made by Always consistently makes me cry.
Particularly the moment where a smiling teenage girl acknowledges she doesn’t have to accept “run like a girl” for its connotations. She says, “I would run like… myself,” putting both hands over her heart. She does know her worth, but the world tries hard to rob her of this. The woman asks her gently, “Would you like a chance to re-do it?”
Yes. Girls would like a chance to reclaim their self-compassion and take loving custody of their own value as people, please. YES.
This can happen. The world is shifting. There may be a sexual predator slash nincompoop currently terrorizing the White House, but I’ll say this for him: he (unintentionally) rallied millions of women to take louder, stronger ownership of their feminist ideals. This is helping to put feminism where it should be: as the mainstream, default position for ALL non-misogynist humans. The #metoo movement has swelled past its banks on the power of women knowing they can’t let others just get away with shit anymore. Complacency is not an option.
I am also comforted by the knowledge that we have sisterhood to draw upon. We can bring our daughters into the fold as women who know the profound power of our bodies, hearts, and minds. We understand the strength of unity. The variants of our tenderness are blessings, sources of energy and healing. We know that daughters and mothers and sisters, joined with our allies, are already in the process of uplifting this chaotic jumble called humanity and making it better.
And there are lots of fantastic fathers out there, raising daughters with their own hearts and minds open to who those girls will become.
I am sincere when I say that I feel real optimism for our girls. It is truly exciting to be part of this new wave. We are in it together, all the daughters and all the sons, feeling the thrill of a changing, learning, evolving humanity.
Hello, women and women-lovers! It’s been 2018 for two-and-a-half months now. Feminism in North America seems to be enjoying an all-time high (#metoo, #timesup) and an all-time low (#POTUSisamisogynistharrasshole) (yep, just coined the term “harrasshole” this moment, you’re welcome) simultaneously. How confusing and invigorating for us all!
For those times when you feel like we still have one foot (plus maybe several more toes) in the Dark Ages, here is a whimsical glimpse into the true horror of the status of women on this continent less than a century ago.
(My brother found this gem, from the Montreal Standard dated December 5th, 1931, insulating someone’s wall on a renovation. Which is clearly where it belonged, barricaded into invisibility and pocked with rusty nail-holes.)
Wait, WOMAN is the loser? Are you SURE, Ursula Parrott? Well, yes, in fact. She is very sure. (I don’t know about the illustrator, though. That dude looks pretty self-satisfied in his fancy vest and checkered napkin… But there is something wistful, maybe even melancholy, about those ladies staring into space. Are those his wives? A wife and a mistress, forced to have tea together? Or are they spinsters upon whom he charitably bestows his company? Cat + knitting would suggest spinsters. Plus the article does not mention polygamy.)
The writer of the article, Lillian G. Genn, gives us a frank intro:
Spinsters of yesteryear have always appeared to us as sad, pathetic creatures who could only view life from a shelf. Given the chance, there wasn’t one who would not be glad to exchange places with the footloose, heartloose bachelor women of today who are free to stray in green pastures with the men. In fact, there are many who believe they enjoy life more than those who have followed the connubial path and are hemmed in by its responsibilities.
By contrast, here is the wisdom of Ursula Parrott, herself, minus the parts of the paper that had been lost to the ravages of time. (I’ve also included a few comments from the Dilovely peanut gallery. Which is me. And I’m colouring those comments teal for your reading pleasure.)
“The spinster woman was at least allowed the comfort of growing old. But the woman today must strive to keep herself young. She is constantly in competition with younger women, whether it is for jobs or for social favors. She can’t afford to let her waistline go or the wrinkles come, or she will be hopelessly out of everything.” [Huh. Sadly, I’d say that this is still true – the expectation of youth is there, the fear of aging is there, whether you’re married or not.]
“Woman’s primary need is for stability and permanency. The lives of the unattached women are in an emotional turmoil because they have not found this satisfaction. The future that faces them is more insecure and uncertain than it was for the spinster who had the family behind her.” [Don’t dudes want stability and permanency? I know a few who do, but back in the Great Depression, perhaps stability was a fetter to the dashing young men waiting in pogey lines.]
“The fact that the young woman of former days had her life charted for her and she knew what her place was, whether as spinster or wife, gave her some distinct advantages. When a man showed an interest in her she knew that his intentions were definitely matrimonial. [Since she couldn’t possibly just be interesting.] Once married, she devoted herself to her husband and children. There was little else for her to worry about. [Except the zero choices available to wives of the patriarchy.] No matter what adventures her husband had on the outside […] was to protect her.” [Ah, the good old days when a man’s adventures were nobody’s business but his.]
Something about how bachelor women want nothing but [***] to live life to the hilt, regardless of the cost. To them any path is better than the conventional one. They derive no pleasure in being faithful to one man. [Maybe that depends on whether the man himself is pleasant.]
“But this type of woman is in the minority. Most women, after a romance or two and a job or two, want the stability and security that marriage gives. They still regard the wedding ring as the grand prize of life. Temperamentally they are more adapted to the role of wife and mother than for anything else.” [And here my mind goes straight to those times when I am temperamentally not so great at my mother role. Like when I yell at my kids. I am clearly an adaptational disappointment.]
“If a woman is sure that what she wants is marriage, it is foolish for her to experiment. She should wait for a husband and not take risks. Of course, what has complicated the situation is that economic conditions are forcing men to defer marriage until after 30. A girl, after waiting a while, begins to feel that she had better take what she can until she can get what she wants. [Could this be a veiled reference to the fact that women actually have their very own sex drives?] Since people are more tolerant about pre-marital affairs, there is nothing to prevent her from indulging in one. In some instances she may soon terminate the affair. But what if she finds that she has become emotionally dependent upon him? She waits from year to year with vague hopes that it may culminate in wedlock.
“Finally she finds that all she is left with is the freedom to experiment again. But now she hasn’t the freshness nor the confidence. It is possible, too, that by that time her contemporaries have married and her best chances for marriage have gone. [Ack. So many ways to keep a woman down by demandingFRESHNESS.]
“A woman’s love is deeper and it lasts longer. When she says ‘I will love you forever,’ she means forever. When a man says it, he generally means it for the time being. [It is important when you engage in any relationship with a man to understand that it is his prerogative to change word meanings and generally make shit up, like he’s playing Balderdash.] That is an important reason why woman should not try to play a man’s game. She hasn’t the emotions for it. [Balderdash does make me cry sometimes.] She can’t shift easily from one affair to another. Intellectually she may be very modern. Her principles may be modern. But her instincts are the same as they always were. She can’t modernize them.”
Here, Miss Parrott pointed out, is cause for conflict. For the modern man, finding women his comrades and playmates and coworkers, has become less interested in marriage. He doesn’t have to lead a girl to the altar to have her companionship. He can date up girls of social equality and is free to leave them whenever he pleases.[Ha! If he can ever find this mythical woman of social equality.]
“Why should he marry,” the novelist observed, “when woman has nothing to sell in the marriage market but what she has already freely bestowed? What is his gain? [The knowledge that he has tamed one wild freewheeling spinster?]Consequently, woman, because she cannot play a man’s game without getting her emotions hard hit, now finds that her new freedom has only given her the hot end of the poker. [Hard-hitting metaphor, Ms. Novelist, combining the Hearth and the Sex in one!]
“If men were as modern in their principles as women; if, too, they were trained to the idea that feminine independence does not free them of their responsibilities in life, then the equality for which women fought would have gained them some advantages. [Aha. So Ursula does have some ambitions for feminism…]
“But even at that, we cannot get away from the fact that true equality between man and woman is impossible. Each is a totally different human being, with different desires, ambitions and needs. It is ridiculous, therefore, for women to strive for equality. The phrase has no more meaning that the old question: ‘Are women inferior or superior to men?’ [Oh dear, I spoke too soon. Could it be that our Ursula has reason to be jaded? (Yes it could. Read on to find out!)]
“The woman who wants to be treated as an equal is, in reality, declaring to men: ‘Do not be chivalrous to me. Do not remember that I am emotionally more intense than you. Treat me as though I were a man.’ But woman at heart does not want to be treated as a man. She is hurt when any man takes up the idea literally. What is more, to insist on identity is to ignore the biological and psychic facts. A woman may have as good a mind as a man, but it is a different kind of mind. Her values in life are different. She will, for example, always be more interested in the appearance of her dinner table than in politics.
[Currently analyzing Dilovely’s womanliness based on appearance of dining table. Outlook is not good, people.]
“However, the banner of equality having been raised, the modern woman must carry on, regardless of how she feels about it. She already knows that many of the things which the feminists once thought would be for woman’s good have proved to be boomerangs. But she cannot retreat. The conditions of life have changed too much. [Curious about these boomerangs! What were they in 1931?]
“Meanwhile, men, having found equality to their advantage, are making the most of it. They would be foolish if they didn’t. Perhaps they have lost their feeling of importance and strength in this world, but, freed from responsibilities and restraints, they are finding life easier. There is little today that they owe a woman. [And we want to be OWED, dammit!] It isn’t any wonder that more and more men are flocking to the banner of equality.”
The question was raised here that if women covet matrimony more than anything else and they want its security, why do so many of them rush into divorce? Why the sad wails from wives?
“There are several reasons,” Miss Parrott replied. “For one thing, women are more restless today. More impatient. Then, too, marriage, like everything else, has fallen into a chaos of experimentation. If it doesn’t suit, take a chance and try another. Don’t narrow your life by devoting yourself to one person. And so, restlessly, women go from one marriage to another without any definite idea as to what they want. It is, of course, typical of human nature not to be content with what we have….’ [It is worth mentioning at this point that Ms. Parrott was, in December 1931, on her second marriage.]
[…] as soon as he has her, he will turn to someone else. [I don’t like the look of this half-sentence. Is she saying that the husband is bound to stray? Probably those effing instincts again.] The same is true of the woman. When the wedding is over, she slumps down on the job of trying to hold her husband. She becomes careless of her appearance and sits around the house in a sloppy fashion. [OMG she’s right. I am totally doing this RIGHT NOW.] She doesn’t bother to listen to his jokes. She either loses him because of her indifference or she leaves him because she believes someone else is more desirable and will do more for her. [Which one befell Ursula??]
“Formerly a woman couldn’t walk out on her husband. Not only because she would lose caste, but because she was so tied down with responsibilities to her family and her home. It is certainly easier for a woman to leave a two-room apartment, with possibly only one child, than the old kind of homestead upon which she was economically dependent.
“The result is that women get divorces for the most trivial of reasons. They forget how much they still have to gain from marriage; they forget that it is easier to get a man’s breakfast than it is to support themselves. They forget that it is easier to spend his money than to earn their own; they forget that marriage offers security and comfort in middle age. They are really perfectly mad to procure a divorce before they have done their utmost to make a go of the relationship. [Nothing I can say will improve gorgeously awful bluntness of that one.]
“The pathetic part of it is that so many women actually do regret the haste with which they broke up their marriages. And, if it happens that they do not marry again, they spend the rest of their lives regretting their action. At least, when a man has taken a step that he regrets, he philosophically puts it out of his mind. But not a woman. She will dwell on that regret to her last day. Her freedom to experiment with love and marital affairs seems to give her cause for one regret after another.” [Good thing our Ursula managed to avoid this by securing herself another marriage. Or did she??]
Turns out that Ursula Parrott is a very conflicted figure to read about. Between Wikipedia and Cladrite Radio, I have gleaned a few things:
that she was the author of nine novels and stories that were made into movies during Hollywood’s golden age;
that she made between $8 and $10 million (in today’s dollars) with her writing;
that her first book, “The Ex-Wife,” was based on her personal experiences after the end of her first marriage;
that she was married and divorced four times in total, and had one son;
and that she died of cancer at the age of 57 or 58, single and apparently in poverty.
So when this article was written, she was already a successful author, but would become much more so – and her love life would also greatly increase in complexity.
How tragic that this outspoken and talented woman, who believed herself biologically needful of stability and permanency, experienced very little of such things in life.
My conclusion is that being a woman in the 1930s must have been full of swift social changes, frustrating and confusing contradictions, and the mistreatment, misogyny, and double-standards that we still struggle with today.
Hats off to your success, Ursula, and deepest condolences for your demise.
Hello, young folk. If you are a student in high school or university, have a smartphone with one or more social media accounts, and are passing your courses, then let me say: my hat is off to you. If you are excelling, then I am fully impressed.
Here’s why. I am kinda old. Specifically, I’m thirty-nine, not so many months away from forty. This means that I was young in a different time. I was already in my 20s when Facebook became a thing. I was several years into my career when the first iPhone came out.
Before that, there was just email. And even that didn’t really get going until I was in university. I did my first emails in crowded computer labs on campus, on terminals with only amber displays. When I moved into a house with my friends, we had dial-up internet that would disconnect when someone picked up the phone. (Of course we all shared a landline because none of us had cell phones.) I did all my school research… in BOOKS. I didn’t even have access to a computer of my “own” (a laptop borrowed from my dad) until I did my Masters degree. It was as heavy as a dictionary and looked like an attaché case.
When I was in high school, there wasn’t even that stuff. We had a family desktop computer on which we could type things, make birthday cards, and play Wheel of Fortune (yes, Vanna White was amber and each of her applauding hands was three giant pixels). Social media was… um… the phone. Attached to the wall. The kind where someone could pick up the extension in another room and yell at you to get off the phone already.
Relating all of this, I feel ancient. The funny thing is, if you get to be thirty-nine years old, you will realize how short a time span it really is. And my age places me in a uniquely-positioned generation – young enough to be inclined to use social media, but old enough to remember what it was like before such platforms existed. (In fact, HuffPost says I am a “Xennial” – of the micro-generation born between 1977 and 1983. I am VERY SPECIAL so you should keep reading.)
These days, knowledgeable people are always saying things like, “Devices are the way of the future. Get used to it. There’s no use fighting it. Kids will have to know how to do everything on screens, might as well get them started now.”
I can see why people say this. The shift has been swift and thorough. A lot of my own life is conducted via either my smartphone or my laptop. With my teaching, committee work, and group-based hobbies, not to mention my social life, the ability to communicate online is very important. My students, likewise, are expected to start typing at least some of their school assignments and navigating the internet by the junior grades (4-6). I’m sure that you, the young adults, use your devices for all sorts of very valid reasons, both academic and social.
But then there’s device-use so pervasive that it’s like breathing: i.e. alternate ways of being don’t even enter the picture. Last year, when the Toronto District School Board blocked Snapchat, Instagram, and Netflix for its students, many were aghast; some claimed the grinding-to-a-halt of social life, communication in general, and even some school assignments. (Srsly? Netflix for school assignments?) And then, of course, many started using VPNs to get around the security.
I found this very upsetting. Not the VPNs – that’s just ingenuity and problem-solving at work. But I pondered the stress + distraction level inherent in smartphone use, and thought to myself, How on earth do they get anything done?
As I said, my generation straddles the pre- and post- microcomputer eras. I can tell you these things for sure about life since smartphones and wi-fi:
large chunks of my life are spent on email;
my inbox is an overflowing source of stress;
the internet has shortened my attention span;
my smartphone has shortened it still further;
the combination of stress and lack of focus have made me less nice andless effective at LIFE.
I wish I were exaggerating or kidding here, but I’m not. My inability to concentrate through the entirety of an article, even one I’m choosing to read for interest, is VERY OBVIOUS to me. My brain thinks of other things to wonder or do or check, or my phone interrupts me, and I can’t/don’t ever finish. And this is with very few of my notifications turned on, and I’m already avoiding half of the typical social media apps. This distraction, I’ve recently realized, makes me grumpy.
When I was in university, my brain was different. And thank goodness it was, because I honestly don’t think I could have made it through with the brain I have now. I definitely couldn’t have researched and written my 75-page paper for my Masters in French lit. That required a huge amount of focus that I honestly no longer possess.
Am I sad about my brain? YES. My brain does not want to be all distracted and flighty. It was happier when it could sink into an activity and be fully present the whole time. (Hence the grumpiness.)
That’s not all that occurs to me when I ponder your situation. The other thing that makes me sad is the thought of anyone’s social lives being so dependent on smartphones that they feel disempowered and unmoored without Snapchat and Instagram.
Because none of that is real life.
Somewhere, deep in your soul, you know this. Interaction on social media feels very real when you’re immersed in it – and unfortunately, the damage and pain it can cause is all too real. But online communication is not what being a human is about. It is too affected, too manufactured.
We all know that selfies are highly contrived. They don’t show the true beauty of the subject. Prepared, positioned, posed – they don’t look how we really look. (One more reason I could never survive in the millennial habitat: I’ve never been particularly photogenic, but I’m terrible at selfies. I just get annoyed.)
In the same vein, text conversations are nothing like in-person conversations, because they are not spontaneous. It’s too easy to pick apart and analyze every word – both as sender and receiver. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good text conversation and some well-chosen emoji(s), but that can never replace a face-to-face exchange. They are two completely different forms of communication.
The immediacy of social (im)media is also false. We know we have to tweet things RIGHT WHEN THEY’RE HAPPENING or no one will read them… If I haven’t commented on that photo instantly, it’s no longer relevant… If I break my Snapstreak, I will have failed… And if I don’t have dozens of Likes on my post within the hour, it falls off the radar.
NO. Nothing that is of real value in life expires that quickly. The urgency is fabricated.
Things people say in online forums are also not real – because people are meaner online. I don’t know why this has to be true, but it is. When sitting with a screen for company and nobody to look in the eye, people (even people much older than you who are raising kids and should absolutely know better) say unconscionable things to other human beings. ALL THE TIME.
All of this is not real human life – but it can become so. The stress and lost social skills are catching up with us. Like Spiderman’s Venom, our unintentionally evil alter egos are slowly staining our true souls. The rudeness, the non-filtering, the self-obsession – it’s all bleeding into everyday life. Just this morning I was walking behind a teenage girl, accompanied by a teenage guy, on their way to school, and heard her yell super-bitchy-like at a motorist (who was waiting to turn right because the pedestrians had the right-of-way), “Just GO!! Sheesh!!!” like there could be nothing more insufferable than someone who abides by the rules of the road and/or uses manners.
Folks. There’s no excuse for that. If we leave our manners behind, we can no longer call ourselves civilized.
I’m not saying our app-filled devices have no place in the real world. I know social media is (are) fun – obviously that’s what hooks us in the first place. These gadgets are also helpful, convenient, and sometimes very efficient. It’s true as well that there are meaningful, important, and even beautiful exchanges that happen on those same platforms. But I am of the pre/post generation, so I can tell you this from personal experience: REAL LIFE IS BETTER.
When I was in high school and university, there were lots of things that brought me genuine joy. For example:
Playing music or singing with a group of friends
Getting hard-earned praise from a teacher on an assignment
Dancing my butt off to my favourite music
Talking to a boy I had a crush on
Seeing friends or family that lived far away
Being a good listener for a friend who needed me
Finishing a job I worked hard on
Cuddling a pet
Running with all my strength to reach the frisbee/soccer ball
Getting a handwritten letter from a loved one (this kept me alive when I went abroad!)
Seeing something truly beautiful that moved me
Hanging out with little kids and hearing them say cute things
Laughing so hard I could barely breathe
Being outside on a gorgeous day
Spending time with friends and family and remembering why I loved them.
Those are essentially the same things that made me happy as a child – and they are same things that make me happy now. They probably sound quaint and/or cheesy, like a meme that makes you roll your eyes. But they’re REAL. The happy chemicals that flood our bodies when we do these things are the ones we’re meant to have, the ones that make us healthier. The chemicals we get from playing Candy Crush (or whatever) are unnatural, because those games are designed to overstimulate and create an addiction.
I know that we can have reasonable online facsimiles of things on that list. We can Like beautiful images online, make someone else smile with a picture or a comment, watch those cat videos that make us laugh really hard. I have had all of those experiences on social media. But it is not the same. Humans were built to be with their people. To be close to them, to hear each other’s voices in the air between them, and to see each other’s expressions change in real time.
To those who say we should just lean in to tech because it’s inevitably going to take over, I say: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. My deep feeling is that someday we will look back on this era as one of disease. Addiction to gadgets and apps is like alcoholism – the actual content in moderation is not that harmful, but when you’re constantly consuming, your system is overloaded and becomes ill.
There are many studies noting a correlation between screen time and declining mental health, especially among young people not so different from you. If you look it up, you might be stunned at the number of YouTubers who have died by suicide in the last ten years. (Or it might be no surprise at all – but still a tragedy.)
And I’m not sure you ever really had a choice about this. Your formative years have been shaped by social media, and at this moment, it’s just how things are done. As easy as it would be for me to advise, “Reject the insanity of social media! UNSUBSCRIBE! FIGHT THE POWER!” I know that’s not something easily done, and probably not what you want. No one wants to ostracize oneself. High school and university are hard enough without putting yourself outside the hive.
Of course, I’m lucky. As a grown-up, I’ve realized that Being Yourself actually does exist. There really does come a time when (as long as your job allows it) you can invest your time and energy in the things and ways of being that matter to YOU. It’s very liberating to say, “I’m almost forty. I don’t have to keep up with the latest fashions/hashtags/Top 40/Netflix originals, because that’s not what life is about. I can wear/listen to/watch/care about what suits ME.” Peer pressure has much, much less influence on my adult life than it did on my youth.
But as I try to navigate the current tech-driven world in a conscious way, I am starting to resent how much of my time corporations are deliberately taking from me. I recently followed my husband’s advice and unsubscribed from almost every organization that was emailing me things – including many things I signed up for on purpose – because they are OVERWHELMING. I swear there were like twenty different things – and lots of those were emailing me more than once a day. Come. ON. When I thought about it, it made me mad because that is MY TIME I’m losing. Even if I never open those emails, they take time to delete and/or they obscure the messages that matter more (i.e. messages from real people I actually know).
Along the same lines, my husband recently made the radical move away from his smartphone to a flip phone, because he knows he’s too susceptible to the tricks companies use to hook us. Lots of research goes into the colours and animations that draw us in most and make it so that we can’t leave our phones alone. Our quality of life goes down because we’re not present – we’re not fully listening – we’re not able to give our full attention to anything. And our poor children have to deal with distracted parents. No wonder kids are forming habits of talking really loud and repeating themselves.
If you’ve read this far, you are an inspiration and a rock star. I don’t think I could have gotten through this whole rant (if I hadn’t written it).
I have had several conversations recently with my generational peers, and we agree: we are worried about your health. If you can stand a few more words, I’ll leave you with this advice, from the Xennials to the Digital Natives:
Make sure you’re aware of when you’re being manipulated, and decide for yourself if it’s worth it. Know that each of the social media platforms is competing with you for your time and attention, which are extremely valuable. Do they deserve it? Be certain that you’re using them, and not vice versa.
Make sure you’re having lots of really real life, as an antidote to the digital world. Put your phone out of reach for a while. Play some soccer in the mud. Be a sympathetic in-person listener for someone having a rough time. Get together with friends for old-fashioned board games. Hug a person you love. Be real more often than you are digital.
Don’t be on your phone in class. I know everyone’s doing it, but trust me. No human can take in knowledge properly while on their phone.
And if you haven’t already, please turn on NightShift on your iPhone, or install f.lux (or Redshift, or Sunset Screen, etc. etc.) to make the light from your device a warmer colour that won’t strain your eyes and keep you awake WAY past your bedtime.
Thank you for reading, and very best of luck to you.
Now here’s one brilliant piece of online art to make us all feel better. *insert ironic emoji*
Off to a cold, cold start in which I have not gotten enough fresh air because I did’t want my skin to fall off… But as of Saturday night, thanks to some quality time spent with my sis and a friend and many little jars and baggies, my spice drawer is looking unusually spiffy. And milder temps started TODAY… We all got through our first day back with a minimum of trauma… So on balance, 2018 is looking good.
1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before?
Me, Sean: Adult Adventure Week at Wilderness Tours on the Ottawa River! Not as risqué as it sounds… or maybe it is! If you consider whitewater risqué. (Two days of rafting, one day of cycling, and one day of sea kayaking… ’twas amazing. That we were still alive at the end.)
E: Saw whale poop at the Royal Ontario Museum, rode on an elephant at the African Lion Safari.
AB: Saw the longest worm in the world at the ROM, rode on a pony at the Safari.
2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions?
Me: I did not manage to stop using the snooze button. I did, however, use my massage benefits several times, and it was awesome. (It’s been several months now since my last appointment, and my neck is wondering sadly what happened.) Also, I did Bullet Journal like a BOSS (more on that later).
Sean: Yes, lost 20 pounds and still going! Lots of reading (not sure if it was MORE)… and shall be rebroadcasting the screen time resolution in 2018.
E: I did get my green belt!
A: I do go to a creative dance class!
3. What is your resolution this year?
Me: Be a paragon of calm in the mornings. Or at least some reasonable example of calm. I can do this. I know it makes a huge difference to the kids when I manage it – and this morning I did! (The kids were late to school, but… Worth It.)
Sean: Reach goal weight, live life more in the present (and less on the internet).
E: Get better marks than in Grade 2.
A: Get a horse. It can live in our yard, or maybe on the patio.
4. Did anyone important to you die?
A dear family friend and former member of our Friends’ Meeting. Also Malcolm Young, Fats Domino, Tom Petty, Adam West, Chuck Berry, Bill Paxton, and especially Gord Downie.
5. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?
Me: A family planner/calendar – and we have it! It’s going to solve everything.
Sean: Really good health.
E: More time making pizza in Roblox world.
A: A horse like Spirit!
6. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Me: Teaching at OELC Intermediate Arts twice in one season; persisting through all four rounds of my first sweat lodge; cycling 35 km in one day – and not getting off to walk ONCE.
Sean: Losing 20 pounds – and sticking to my new eating lifestyle!
E: Getting into the Black Belt Club at Tae Kwon Do.
A: Learning all of “Bonjour l’hiver” at school.
7. What was your biggest failure?
Me, Sean: You could say that we’ve finally unpacked… but we still haven’t put most of our art up on the walls.
E: I failed to go back to Tae Kwon Do this fall, because the studio is not offering classes anymore. 🙁
A: I failed to get to school with any seconds to spare, basically every day. Sometimes this was because my socks were failing to sit perfectly on my feet, or my pants were failing to come to exactly the right position at my ankles.
8. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Me (E, A): The two-month cough seems to be finally winding down, knock wood.
Sean: The Diabetus, Type 2. But it’s okay, I’m in the process of kicking its ass.
E: The usual grievous injuries about five times a day.
A: I slipped off the rock into the water at Camp and got bleeding cuts (but I was very brave).
9. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Me, Sean: Trump; extremists/racists/misogynists/mass shooters; Harvey Weinstein et al.
E: Mummy and Daddy, when they make me do chores.
A: Mummy and Daddy, when they don’t do my bidding.
10. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Me: TransCanada putting an end to the Energy East pipeline, attendees at the Women’s March in Washington.
Sean: Those who spoke up in the #metoo movement; Colin Kaepernick taking a knee.
E: Mine, when I committed my TKD Forms to muscle memory.
A: Mine, for the mornings that I woke up as Sweet Daughter (not Screechy Savage Daughter. Those mornings don’t bear writing about).
11. What did you get really excited about?
Me: My new Grade 1-6 Dance/Music teaching job! (Yes, I still do Core French. I will probably do Core French for eternity. It’s fun too.)
Sean: Rafting trip!
E: Going back to North Carolina!
A: Being a vampire for Halloween! I JUST LOVE HALLOWEEN! (Picture this last said with a plastic-fang-induced lisp, skipping along dark evening sidewalks, with fake blood dripping from a joyful smile.)
12. What events from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:
Me, Sean: Solar eclipse, apocalyptic flooding of so many places.
E, A: The burning of the outhouse at Camp.
All: Getting to know and love Uncle Dave on his visit from up north.
13. What political issue stirred you the most?
Me: Canada 150 controversy, Rohingya refugees. National Inquiry on Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women.
Sean: Alabama’s special election, Jagmeet Singh becoming the first Sikh federal party leader.
E, A: The elimination of screen time on school nights.
14. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Me: PARAGON OF CALM.
E, A: That thing I’m doing when you tell me it’s bedtime.
15. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Me: Procrastinating on going to bed.
Sean: Making excuses.
A: Putting my clothes away.
16. What do you regret?
Me: Not getting regular massages for the last decade.
Sean: All the wasted hours on the internet.
E: Every mistake I every make with a pen. Deeply, excruciatingly.
A: When I’m mean to Mummy and Daddy. But then I forget and do it again.
17. What decision are you glad you made?
Me: To accept the Music/Dance job at my school. SO. MUCH. FUN.
Sean: To go off the recommended ketogenic diet, and to read and follow The Starch Solution by John McDougall.
E: I hardly ever get to decide anything. I just wish I were a grownup so I could do whatever I wanted!!
A: Changing my mind at the last minute to be a vampire for Halloween instead of ANY OTHER THING.
18. How did you spend Christmas?
All: With people we love, all kinds of family. So very fortunate. (Sean even shared our two weeks off due to shutdown! Very exciting.)
19. What song will always remind you of 2017?
Me:Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara, Believer by Imagine Dragons, We Are Giants by Take That, The Greatest by Sia, Asa by Bry Webb.
Sean, E, A: The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota by Weird Al. (Not a new song, I know. Sean played it for the kids one time and they quickly became obsessed.)
20. What was your favorite TV program?
Me: North & South, Downton Abbey, The Blacklist, Ripper Street, The Crown.
Sean: Stranger Things, Mindhunter, The Crown.
E: I’m not really into TV. I like to race sea-doos, build block homes, and make pizzas on my screen time.
21. What was the best book you read?
Me, Sean: All The Light We Cannot See. Hands down.
E: All my series: Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Dog Man, and Captain Underpants.
A: I loved having Beverly Cleary read to me (Ramona books and Emily’s Runaway Imagination).
22. What was your favorite film of this year?
Me: Coco. And Spiderman Homecoming a close second.
Sean: Thor Ragnarok, Spiderman Homecoming.
E: Lego Batman.
23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Me: 39, had delicious dinner made by my sisters, hung out with friends and family. And got to go on the 40th Birthday Rafting Trip even though I’m too young!
Sean: 40, stayed home from work to take care of my sick daughter. And the rafting thing (five months later)!
E: 8, had my friends over to my house, played some crazy games with my friends at the park.
A: 5, had my first party with school friends, got our faces painted, and dipped ALL THE THINGS in hummus – even the popcorn.
24. What new thing would you like to try in 2018?
Me: PARAGON OF CALM. (If I say it enough times, it will surely come true.)
Sean: Four new songs on my guitar.
E: Proper swimming lessons. (Not completely new, but haven’t had them since toddlerhood.)
A: Proper swimming lessons. We both start on Wednesday!
25. Whom did you miss?
26. Who was the best new person you met?
All: Our awesome new child care person and her family.
Me: The whole Summer iArts crew.
E, A: Uncle Dave!
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2016:
Me: Don’t underestimate the difference a seemingly small gesture (or the lack of one) can make to a person going through a rough time.
Sean: Make sure you’re well-hydrated on a long, unaccustomed bike ride. Also, don’t feel guilty if you shun social media.
E: I don’t actually have to freak out about EVERY SINGLE chore I’m asked to do. Just sometimes, to keep ’em on their toes.
A: My friend Isabelle got diabetes. She got them in Florida, where there are lots of diabetes. Also, my dad got his diabetes from eating HP sauce.*
28. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
Throw a little love till the world stops hurting… Keep on, keep on, keep on truckin’…
This is last year’s song lyric, but I think it still applies. And if you are looking back and going, YIKES, 2017, weren’t you supposed to be better than 2016? then go read this list. It helps.
*AB schooled us once at the dinner table when we were talking about diabetes. We said there was no Type 3, and she said “Yes there is! The kind you get when you’re pregnant!” *jawdrop* [Of course!!] The HP sauce thing is because Sean avoided it while on keto, due to sugar content. Those associations get made so firmly, based on so little.
Today is National Indigenous Peoples’ Day, formerly known as National Aboriginal Day, established to celebrate First Nations, Métis, and Inuit culture in Canada. I know that for many Indigenous people, this day seems like lip-service, since we have not yet established a day to focus on Truth and Reconciliation. I decided to use this day for that purpose.
On this year’s 150th anniversary of Confederation, today marks the official beginning of Canadian celebrations that culminate on Canada Day – the biggest national party we’ve ever had. But some Canadians cannot feel celebratory about a Confederation that served to marginalize our First Peoples. Some are acutely aware that the number 150 has nothing to do with true Indigenous history and everything to do with its erasure. Therefore, we as a nation must make this, right now, a season of commitment and burgeoning for Truth and Reconciliation.
In 2008, the Government of Canada finally apologized for its part in the damage done to Indigenous peoples through the Indian Residential School system. That apology was a landmark event for Canada, and one of Stephen Harper’s better moments, but it could have gone much deeper.
The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada was also formed in 2008, and released its final report in 2015 to let Canadians know what Indigenous peoples needed for healing. There has been some progress since then, including a new and more inclusive government, but in truth, the work has barely begun.
I am white. I was born in Canada, to American immigrants with European roots. I acknowledge that my life, down to the very land I live on, has always been privileged. In this writing, I use the word “we” to refer to generations of us – since long before residential schools – who have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy, privilege that exists at the expense of generations of Indigenous peoples. I use the word “you” to reach out to all Indigenous peoples of Canada, you who are alive today as well as your ancestors, who have been victims, and bear the burden, of that same privilege.
As a teacher, a parent, and a proud Canadian, I am trying to figure out how best to participate in Truth and Reconciliation in my country at this historical moment. Perhaps an apology is a good place to start, even as I wonder whether it’s my place or my right to offer one. I don’t know if these words are the right ones, but I hope that they may still be worth writing.
First: I’m sorry to be speaking to you as though you were one homogeneous group. I know that you are many different peoples, languages, traditions, stories, and histories, and that it’s partly the dominant white perspective that lumps you together. Sadly, your suffering has also given you much in common, and that is what I want to address.
I’m sorry that when we arrived in this beautiful land, one you had already known and loved and worked and understood for millennia, most of us utterly failed to recognize your civilization, your wisdom, even your humanity – and, of course, your prior claim.
I’m sorry that we so thoroughly abused any welcome or trust that you showed us.
I’m sorry that we lied to you, over and over, about everything, with such sweeping consequences.
I’m sorry that we were unspeakably arrogant, assuming you to be the savages, and ourselves to be the enlightened ones.
I’m sorry that so many of you died from the toxic gifts we brought: firearms, alcohol, and disease.
I’m sorry that we used every tactic possible to push and push and push you to the very margins of your own home, as if our sense of entitlement made any sense whatsoever.
I’m sorry that so many of us, including our governing representatives, saw you as a pest to be managed, and treated you accordingly.
I’m sorry that we thought it was in any way acceptable to wrench your families apart, the better to force your children to become what they were not.
I’m sorry that so many of those 150,000 children – your babies – and also your grandparents – were deprived of their languages, forcibly evangelized, neglected, overcrowded, underfed, beaten, raped, sterilized, experimented on, and otherwise abused, such that thousands died, and thousands more bore – and still bear – every level of scars.
I’m sorry that we outrageously pretended, until very recently, that this was all for your own good.
I’m sorry that, rather than offering necessary support – recompense, remedy, apology, or even sympathy – to your Survivors of residential schools, we spent so many years sweeping it under the rug.
I’m sorry that we deliberately attacked, suppressed, and endangered your languages.
I’m sorry that our actions have made it so hard for your families to re-grow the roots and branches of your tribal and family trees.
I’m sorry that so many of us have no understanding of land claims, seeing them only as traffic disruptions.
I’m sorry that after the centuries of physical, political, and spiritual marginalization we inflicted on you, we have – incredibly – not progressed enough to make restitution; that instead, we continue to desecrate the small bits of land remaining to you with pipelines, highways, and disrespect.
I’m sorry that we seem to expect you to suck it up and be fine, as though “we’re not the bad guys” and “it’s not our problem.”
I’m sorry that so many of us view the addictions, violence, and suffering in your communities as your fault, rather than as the inevitable aftermath of the mass torture of generations of your people.
I’m sorry that we have felt entitled to stereotype you, to use whichever archetypes we like, to mock some aspects of your culture and to co-opt others, with no real understanding of their origins, significance, or sacredness.
I’m sorry that despite being a country that prides itself on respecting, welcoming, celebrating, and being a refuge for a diversity of cultures, we have made you feel so unwelcome and disrespected in your own home.
I’m sorry that we congratulate ourselves on the high standard of living in our nation, even as so many of you live in deplorable conditions.
I’m sorry that we have a reputation for niceness and politeness that glosses over our ugly white supremacist history.
I’m sorry that you have lost so many of your beloved people, especially young ones, to hopelessness and suicide.
I’m sorry that so many of your women have been kidnapped, abused, and murdered – and gone so long uninvestigated by our police.
I’m sorry that such a disproportionate, horrifying number of your babies have been – and are still being – taken away, even from safe families and communities, due to racism and lack of due process on the part of our child welfare authorities.
I’m sorry that despite overwhelming evidence that you are right, and have always been right, when it comes to the urgent necessity of respecting, protecting, and healing this intricately, wholly connected planet we share, many of us are still pretending that we can afford to trash it.
I’m sorry that instead of following your lead of respecting every being, acknowledging that all our futures are interdependent, we are becoming more and more a culture in which derision and cruelty are accepted and fomented – even though we (should) know better.
I’m sorry that there may well be people who read this and dismiss it as exaggeration and overly dramatic.
I’m sorry that there are still adult Canadians who are ignorant of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, its Calls to Action, and its profound importance to Canada.
I know that I am very fortunate to be here. I love that this country is, in many ways, beautiful, safe, diverse, peaceful, and generous. But we have darkness that needs to be acknowledged. We can always do better. I want to be even prouder of us.
Here is what I am starting with, in my journey to be part of an improved Canada that takes Truth and Reconciliation seriously:
I promise to speak frankly to my children and my students, as I did today, about residential schools and Indigenous history that has been misrepresented or left out of education for so long – and to impress upon them that we are all Treaty People.
I promise to continue to make Indigenous history and teachings an embedded part of my job as a teacher, as authentically as possible. I know that this means including real Indigenous voices as often as I can.
I promise to make every effort to respect Indigenous cultures without appropriating them – never to teach what I do not know or am not entitled to share.
I promise to continue to educate myself as much and as often as possible, to learn from Indigenous people living today, so that my teaching has value.
I promise to stand with you in protesting the violation of our water sources and the desecration of our planet.
I promise to challenge racism out loud when I have the chance.
In solidarity with you, and in keeping with my own Quaker upbringing, I promise to sit in sacred circles, to listen to nature, and to remind myself every day of the profound interconnectedness of life on Earth.
Having read the TRC’s report “Honouring the Truth and Reconciling for the Future”, including all ninety-four Calls to Action, I promise to ask my fellow Canadians to do the same.
And I promise to keep learning about the best ways to be part of Truth and Reconciliation in Canada.
To that end, I am grateful for the people whose work and wisdom I know to be making Truth and Reconciliation more accessible for Canadians: Geronimo Henry, David A. Robertson, Cherie Dimaline, Lee Maracle, Richard Wagamese, Jesse Wente, Jan Sherman, Colinda Clyne, Nancy Rowe, Sean Lessard, Rosanna Deerchild, Thomas King, Wab Kinew, Jeanette Armstrong, Margaret Pokiak-Fenton, Nicola Campbell, Michael Kusugak, Tanya Tagaq, Chelsea Vowel, Candy Palmater, Randall Charboneau, Bruce Beardy, Midnight Shine, Samian, Buffy St. Marie, A Tribe Called Red, Neil Monague, Norm Tabobondung, Gord Downie, and others.