Politics

Dancing Monkey Presents: “Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me”

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

Stop me if you’ve heard this one: an Irishman, an Englishman, and an American are chained to a wall–

swwomlogoNo, this is not the set-up for some lame stereotypical joke, but the premise for Frank McGuinness’ searing play Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me, a story set not against the backdrop of the Lebanon Hostage Crisis, but chained deep within its dark belly. Under the direction of the luminous Julie McIsaac, the players of Dancing Monkey Presents wade neck deep into the waters of fear, despair, madness, and hope that threaten to overwhelm us when we are, quite literally, hostage to forces beyond our control.

Though the play runs over two hours (with a short intermission), McGuinness’ script is witty, biting, and fast-paced, taking its characters careening between the polemic and the playful, the religious and the ridiculous, between anger, insanity, honesty, and love. Though the Lebanon Hostage Crisis and its casualties are, of course, deeply rooted in the political realm, McGuinness’ story does not dwell on this, choosing to focus on the human beings beneath the hostages, in all their fear, self-righteousness, and unexpected kindnesses, rather than on condemning or excusing either the hostage-takers or the governments who may or may not have done all within their power to secure their citizens’ safe release.

McIsaac’s staging of Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me is simple yet effective. Three men are chained in a small bare room, lit by a single dangling bulb. We do not know what time of day it is, or where they are, and neither do they. Against such a sparse backdrop, the performances of Jay Clift (Adam), Ashley O’Connell (Edward), and Kirk Smith (Michael) truly shine as McGuiness’ script races them, and us, through an emotional labyrinth at break-neck speed. Each character is a pressure cooker, roiling with physical energy they cannot expend, anger they cannot unleash, and fear they cannot relieve. The script, which is actually quite funny at times, swings each man from tears to laughter and back again, relentless and unflinching.  The skill that lies beneath the delicately controlled performances delivered by Clift, O’Connell, and Smith is not to be understated.

Though 1980s Lebanon is worlds away for most of us, McGuiness and his characters strip away the layers of distance and time that separate us, the comfortable audience, from them, the men waiting to find out if they will live or die, if will they ever see their families again, or if anyone even knows what has happened to them. In the isolation of a cell, with the possibility of madness an ever-present companion, three men encounter the same fears that gnaw at most of us–that it does not matter where we are from, how educated we are, whether we are good or bad people. Things will happen to us that we do not understand and cannot control. We will not know why. We will not know if there is even a why. What we will know is what our reality is, in the here and now. We will know what the darkness is and we will have to decide how to live with it, no matter how short or long our captivity. In the darkness there is loneliness and helplessness but also humanity.

If I were to have a complaint about the evening it would be that the intimate seating still contained several empty chairs and Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me deserves to play to packed houses. With a ticket price of $16 (affordability being part of Dancing Monkey Presents’ mandate) a script this good, and performances this strong, there is really no excuse not to see it if you can.

Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me plays at Renegade Studios (125 E. 2nd Ave., Vancouver) for one more week, March 18 – 23, at 8:00 p.m. each night. Tickets can be purchased online or at the door (though the house is small so booking early is advised). NB: The vents are turned off during the performance and the space does get a little cold during that time so dress appropriately!

Clockwise from top left: Jay Clift, Kirk Smith, Ashley O'Connell

Clockwise from top left: Jay Clift, Kirk Smith, Ashley O’Connell

Disclosure: My guest and I were provided tickets courtesy of Dancing Monkey Presents. My content is my own.

The Troika Collective Presents Belarusian Dream Theater Vancouver

/ Lauren / Leave a comment
Poster design by Liam Griffin

Poster design by Liam Griffin

On Tuesday, March 25, The Troika Collective, in association with Ensemble Free Theater Norway (EFTN), will present the Vancouver iteration of the Belarusian Dream Theater project in Studio 4270 at SFU Woodwards.

From the announcement of the project in the Belarusian Review:

Belarusian Dream Theater [is] an international performing arts event supporting freedom of expression in Belarus, conceived by Brendan McCall, Artistic Director of EFTN.

On 25 March 2014, Belarus’ Freedom Day, partner theaters will present readings and/or performances of new short plays about Belarus simultaneously in Australia, Belarus, Denmark, Canada, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Italy, Norway, Poland, Ukraine, and the United States.

[…] The hope is that this coordinated cultural event will stimulate a greater knowledge and interest in Belarus by international audiences, journalists, and artists.

So why is it important to know about what is happening in Belarus? Before becoming involved with this project, I must admit that I had not thought about Belarus in a long time (perhaps not since passing through it on a train when I was ten years old). I have, like many people, been keeping an eye on the political situation in Ukraine. Meanwhile, news from Belarus has been comparatively quiet.

As it turns out, that is because the Belarusian government has, for many years, severely restricted independent expression through a combination of legislation, intimidation, and force. Based on information from Amnesty International, the protests that have rocked Ukraine in recent months would likely not be possible in the political climate of Belarus today, especially given the country’s “Law on Mass Actions”:

In 2011 weekly “silent protests”, where groups of people throughout the country would stroll wordlessly, applaud or use their mobile phone alarms simultaneously, saw participants beaten, sentenced to administrative detention or fined.

The largest demonstration in the country’s recent history, following the presidential elections in December 2010, was suppressed with unprecedented violence. When police moved in to disperse it in the centre of the capital Minsk over 700 people were detained and many, including by-standers, were beaten and wounded. Four prisoners of conscience Mykalau Statkevich, Pavel Sevyarynets, Eduard Lobau and Zmitser Dashkevich remain in prison in connection to the demonstration to this day.

[…] Peaceful protesters are frequently sentenced to fines or short periods of detention for violating the Law on Mass Actions or for minor offenses such as swearing in public. Pavel Vinahradau, a member of the youth political movement Zmena (Change), spent a total of 66 days in detention between 30 December 2011 and 12 December 2012 on eight separate administrative convictions, all for minor offenses such as swearing or violations of the regulations for public meetings and pickets.

And it isn’t only protesters who are finding their freedoms of expression curtailed. Citizens wishing to join or create an independent organization (for support, to express an identity or opinion, etc.) must be sure the organization is registered with the government and meets the government’s strict registration requirements. Activists who have been deemed to be acting on behalf or as part of an unregistered organization face prosecution.

So where does Ensemble Free Theater Norway, the Belarusian Dream Theater playwrights, The Troika Collective, and the rest of the companies participating around the world come in? Well, though many of these plays could not be performed in Belarus (or at least not without considerable risk), they can be performed here in Canada, our actors and directors can speak without fear of reprisal, and we can listen. We invite you to join us for an evening of theatre, music, and hopefully, social good.

The Vancouver performance of the Belarusian Dream Theater project will take place on Belarus’ Freedom Day, March 25, at 8:00 p.m. in Studio 4270, SFU Woodwards. Admission is by donation (though no one will be turned away for lack of funds), with proceeds benefiting the Troika Collective’s operations. If you wish to support free expression in Belarus, proceeds from the sales of the plays being read/performed around the world as part of this project will go to Amnesty International. You can also make a direct donation to Amnesty International online at Amnesty.ca.

Disclosure: I am the co-artistic director of The Troika Collective, along with founding co-artistic director Aliya Griffin. The Troika Collective is a registered non-profit.

An Olympic Tongue-Lashing

/ Lauren / 3 Comments

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Back in August, I wrote a blog post entitled Canada Must Boycott the 2014 Sochi Olympics. At the time, there seemed to be a general consensus amongst my virtual circles (i.e. the ones I interact with via Facebook and Twitter) that Russia’s anti-gay laws were morally repugnant and downright dangerous to Russia’s LGBT community and its allies, and that Russia in no way deserved to be given the Olympic Games and the prestige and economic benefits that went with it. There was even a petition, which I think I signed, to hold the Games in Vancouver once again, since we are already set up for it and clearly are a little more queer-friendly.

Oh those carefree summer days, when methinks we dost protest too much, and talked a pretty big talk in terms of “human rights” etc. etc. without really walking the walk. When it came down to it, we didn’t want our athletes to miss the games, I mean, they’d worked so hard, right? And we didn’t want to miss the opening ceremonies, because we wanted to tune in to see what countries made some kind of protest, right? And we’ll sure show those gay-bashing Russians when we win medals in a sporting event that has cost the country and its people more than 50 billion dollars, right?

Sigh. Okay. Obviously this post got off on a really bitchy foot. For those of you who never had any intention of boycotting the Olympics or any desire to see Canada pull its athletes, please disregard this entire post. This is not for you. I clearly feel differently from you, but at least you are being honest with yourself about which causes are important to you and which tactics you wish to use to defend these causes. Okay.

But there were a lot of us, back in the summer, who paid a LOT of lip service to standing in solidarity with Russia’s LGBT community (who are quite literally fighting for their lives, livelihood, families, and personal safety). There were a lot of us who said Russia was a disgrace, who said the IOC was a disgrace for allowing the Olympics to take place in a country whose laws appear to be in clear violation of the Olympic Charter, who said the Olympic sponsors were a disgrace for giving money to an event that, by its indifference to the prejudiced laws of the country hosting it, seems to tacitly endorse homophobia.

My ideas and anxieties seldom come from within myself, so I know I was inspired by the words of others when I wrote that impassioned post last August. My question is–where’d we all go? To sit in front of our TV screens to watch the Olympics, let the corporate sponsors pay the IOC to glorify Russia as it strips vulnerable citizens of their rights? I’m not sure, but I’m seeing a hell of a lot about gold medals in my news feeds nowadays, and a lot less about human rights. And that’s exactly what the IOC, and its sponsors, hoped would happen.

Cracked.com (an American website), has even gone so far as to post a self-congratulatory (but kind of sheepish) list of 4 Reasons We [the U.S.] Were Right Not to Boycott the Olympics (I found this link when one of my Canadian friends posted it on Facebook, so clearly the sentiment is shared north of the 49th parallel as well). By now I should know better than to be bothered by most of the things I read on the internet, but this particular post did tell me two things. Thing One: some of us are tired of feeling guilty (or being made to feel guilty) about enjoying the Olympics, and we wanted some internet-grade evidence to back up our position. Thing Two: the author of the post is obviously feeling the same pressures, or this post wouldn’t exist in the first place. As for these “reasons”:

  1. “It Gives Us a Chance to Beat the Bad Guys”   Maybe you have to be American to get this one, or maybe I just don’t equate winning medals in a corrupt and expensive show of TV patriotism with, you know, doing anything to actually help LGBT people whose lives are being destroyed by homophobic legislation. I’m not sure how we’re actually “beating the bad guys” unless you truly feel that a gold medal for Canada somehow makes Russia think twice about their position on LGBT people. Let’s be honest with ourselves: we like winning medals because we like to win medals. Even if Russia was the nicest most democratic human-rights-loving nation ever, we’d STILL want to beat their ass and win gold medals at the Olympics. We love watching our flag being raised to the rafters, and that has nothing to do with Russia’s laws.
  2. “It’s Not a Badass Statement; It’s a Boring Tradition”   Oh, I see. Standing up for what’s right and honourable is only something worth doing if it makes us look cool and “badass”, right? You mean this isn’t the first time people have wanted to boycott the Olympics? Oh no! I thought I was being really cutting edge here but obviously registering your displeasure with a corrupt institution and a homophobic government is passé, so I guess I’ll just shut up and wave my flag now with the rest of the cool kids.
  3. “There is Absolutely No Point”   This is actually a point the Russian LGBT Network agrees with, so I’ll let it stand in this particular case, though boycotts do have the potential to be useful in other ways (i.e., if they were directed at the IOC and its behaviour, rather than at the host nation). No, boycotting the Olympics never did make a country throw up their hands and go, “You know what? You’re right about that thing we’re doing that’s wrong, we’re not going to do it anymore,” but it might make corporate sponsors think twice about putting money into the Olympic machine if they know large swaths of consumers from the boycotting nations won’t be tuning in. With each successive boycott (or discussion about boycotting), the IOC is exposed more and more as the bloated, politicking, money hog it is. Maybe someday we will stop equating the Olympic Games with national pride and love of sport, and instead start simply tuning in the world championship events of the sports we’re interested in.
  4. “It’s Much More Effective to Be Passive-Aggressive”   Sadly, this is also true. When it comes to the Olympics passive-aggression is really the only option apart from boycotting, because any declared stance against Russia’s laws would be a “political message” (which the IOC doesn’t allow) and could get you penalized or barred from the Games. However, that doesn’t make this situation right. We shouldn’t have to play along and kowtow to de facto dictators like Putin just so our athletes can bobsled. If the Olympic Games truly were free of politics, any athlete who qualifies would be able to compete, regardless of their stated political beliefs, and regardless of whether or not they chose to make these beliefs known during the Games.

When it comes down to it, there is really only ONE reason why we, the countries of the world who believe homophobia is wrong, were right not to boycott the Olympics: the LGBT community of Russia didn’t want us to. They wanted us to come to Russia and see what’s going on. They wanted Vladimir Putin to have to make promises that gay athletes and fans would be safe during the Games. They wanted the world to speak up for them when they were there (though apart from some rainbow-y apparel that really hasn’t happened yet). They know that it’s going to get worse for them after the world leaves.

So it turns out I was wrong to want to boycott, and you’re not a horrible person for tuning in after all. We still, however, have a responsibility to put our money where our mouth is. According to the Russian LGBT Network:

Participation and attendance of the Games in Sochi will not indicate endorsement of injustice and discrimination; they will only if they are silent. We hope to join forces and succeed in raising everyone’s voices for LGBT equality in Russia and elsewhere. We hope that together with those who share this vision, we will succeed in sending the strongest message possible by involving athletes, diplomats, sponsors, and spectators to show up and speak up, proclaiming equality in most compelling ways.

I think it’s important to emphasize a couple of key points:

Participation and attendance of the Games in Sochi will not indicate endorsement of injustice and discrimination; they will only if they are silent.

we will succeed in sending the strongest message possible by involving athletes, diplomats, sponsors, and spectators to show up and speak up

Unfortunately, there hasn’t been a lot of speaking up, at least not anything that has managed to reach me. It’s all gold medals and heart warming and/or tragic sports stories and the kind of stuff that makes the Olympics fun every time they come around, but the most negative press I’ve seen coming out of Russia are tweets from a bunch of whiny journalists who aren’t okay with hotel rooms that resemble the way most people in Russia probably actually live (okay, so the improperly installed toilet seat is a bit hilarious, but whenever I’ve travelled Europe I was lucky to find washrooms with any toilet seats at all).

Even if some people in Sochi are speaking up, it’s likely I wouldn’t know about it, since it seems the IOC is pretty good at controlling its message and getting the media who want to hold on to their Olympic broadcasting rights to play along (see the Globe and Mail’s piece about the CBC).

Basically, what I’m saying now that I’ve ranted and raved and flip flopped and bitched is that if you want to watch the Olympics, you should watch the Olympics. If you want to talk about gold medals, you should talk about gold medals. But don’t confuse success in a sporting event with success in the fight for a better world. Every sporting event does have its acts of human kindness and decency, every win is a triumph of someone’s hard work and determination, but at the end of it all I want Canada to take home more than just medals. I want Canada to take home the knowledge that they did the right thing and spoke up for people who were not able to speak up for themselves. And if we fail to do that, our medals just don’t mean a lot to me.

My “gendered job” and me

/ Lauren / 3 Comments

To preface, the following is not in any way a complaint about my job. It is simply the beginnings of a personal examination of a gender role I have chosen to play in my professional life.

secretary (1)When people ask me what I do, I say I am a secretary.

I say I am a secretary because when people ask what I do, I know they’re asking what I do for money. And I also say I’m a secretary because I think it sounds more glamourous than saying I’m an administrative assistant, even though the two terms are more or less interchangeable. The point being, I am a secretary.

I am a secretary in a small office in a large department in a much larger institution. And it’s a pretty great job, as far as jobs go–the pay is decent, the benefits are too, and my coworkers and managers are fantastic. In a world where I can’t sleep in until 10:00 every morning and collect a paycheque just for being lil’ ol’ me (a post-recession world where Canada continues to shed jobs like it’s going out of style and most job growth is in the part-time, temporary sector), a job like mine is highly prized.

To make a long story short, I like my job.

I like my job, but…

I’m beginning to wonder if being a secretary is just a teensy weensy bit gendered. I’m also wondering whether or not this matters at all.

To start with, of course being a secretary is gendered. Even if I didn’t know that administrative assistance is still a primarily female occupation, like nursing and childcare, I only need to look around the offices in my department to see that there are a LOT of women here. I currently work in a building that houses five administrative offices. Every single staff member here is a woman (including the managers, which makes sense considering they probably started as clerks or secretaries themselves). My office is fairly typical for my department and for most of the other departments that make up the institution. A trip to HR would reveal, as Mitt Romney infamously gaffed, “binders full of women.” So yes, in that this particular role is typically filled by women (whether intentionally or no), my occupation as a secretary is a gendered one.

Which is totally okay. I am comfortable enough with my feminism to know that staying in a good job with decent pay and a respectful and friendly work environment is a smart choice at this point in my life, even if I’m not exactly tearing down the glass ceiling every day (and even if my undergraduate degree is completely unrelated to my work; I know many other degree holders who are faring much worse). I know that the various roles played by secretaries are stereotypically female ones (receptionist, event planner, filer, typist, note-taker, organizer, pacifier, assistant, etc.), but these roles are necessary to fulfilling the duties outlined in my job description and I feel the roles are valued by my supervisors and manager.

Still, at some point in every term of employment, it becomes clear what those “other additional tasks and duties consistent with the position” line in your job description is all about. It means that certain tasks will fall on your shoulders because there simply isn’t a different place to put them, and you’re there, and your job is to be helpful.

I am particularly thinking about the times when I have been involved in food prep, food disposal, clearing tables, washing dishes, cleaning fridges, decorating, etc. while at work (and dressed in office attire, of course). None of these duties are spelled out in my job description, however, as an administrative assistant the umbrella  covering everything one might do to “assist” their office or department is pretty large (of course, my coworkers and often managers do their fair share of this kind of work and more, wrapping gifts, stopping by the grocery store to pick up a cake for someone’s birthday, etc.). The assumption inherent in the very definition of being an administrative assistant is that your job is to make life smoother for your superiors, clients, and coworkers. In other words, an administrative assistant’s job is to assist the administration, regardless of what the job description for that particular position actually says.  I am compensated quite fairly for this. And I really don’t mind.

BUT (and there really is a but, small as it may seem):

Because the employees in secretarial roles are overwhelmingly female, I worry that these “additional tasks and duties” are seen by many not as a natural extension of the role of assisting the administration a female employee works for, but as a natural extension of being female. Of COURSE we’re cleaning and decorating and preparing food and planning baby showers for coworkers, one might think, we’re WOMEN and we’re “good at that stuff”!

Well, yes and no. We’re “good at that stuff” because we do it all the time, and for many of us, we do it all the time because we were raised that way, but it really has nothing to do with being male or female. I’ve met guys who can barely hold a broom, and I’ve also met guys who can clean a bathroom better than I can (and I’m pretty damn thorough so that’s saying something). It really comes down to what you’ve been taught.

Western society is full of women who were taught to be acquiescent and obliging, self-sacrificing and silent. Western society is full of women who learned to anticipate the needs of others and to take care of those needs while ignoring their own. Western society is full of women who learned to make themselves invisible, as if the gleaming home and the well-fed children and the glass of scotch on the end table occurred by magic. This was fortunately not my experience growing up, but it is still the legacy I have inherited. As much as I enjoy my workplace and the security and comfort my secretarial job brings me, I worry that I might be contributing to this legacy in ways I did not intend. I mean, I don’t agree with the idea that a woman’s worth relies solely on her ability to facilitate the grander and more recognized work of others, but this is the only thing for which I have allowed myself to be paid in my professional life.

In other words, I have let society, in the form of my employment, gauge my worth using exactly the kind of yardstick I have always claimed to despise. What’s more, I’m good at it, and I like being good at it. I take pride in my ability to talk down an upset client, or to anticipate a manager’s needs, or to maintain a cabinet of files just so. I love my “telephone voice” too. I have put on the role of secretary as if it were a costume in a play, and let me tell you, I wear the hell out of it.

Am I wrong to do this? I honestly don’t know. It’s something I’ve started thinking about and something I will probably continue to think about as my life changes and I become a wife and eventually (hopefully) a mother. What roles do I want to play? How do I want to play them? And is what I am doing now negatively impacting my future ability to escape roles I don’t want? TC is no Don Draper, but the roles I take on within my family shouldn’t have to hinge on the fact that I picked a good man; they should be something I can come to with both eyes open. Fulfilling a traditionally female role is not a bad thing (this kind of work is tremendously important and has a lot more worth than society usually assigns it), but I don’t want to be expected to fulfill certain roles just because of my biology.

At any rate, I’d be interested to hear if other women working as administrative assistants have had similar experiences or concerns, or if they have found their roles to be gendered in more ways than just the fact that they are in a traditional female role (I hardly ever get comments on this blog but if you’d like to leave one, go for it!).

Meanwhile in Australia, Sh*t is Going Down

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

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A few years ago, my close friend (the lion-hearted theatre artist and burlesque darling Frankie Vandellous) decided to move to Australia. This has generally sucked for me, because she’s great and I miss her. There are, however, two ways in which Frankie’s move has been beneficial:

  1. Frankie has done some really cool things down under, and that’s awesome.
  2. Through the power of Facebook, and Frankie’s involvement and activism, I have become more aware of the political situation in Australia (and Queensland) and though it’s not altogether pleasant, I suppose I’m glad I no longer cling to an old romantic illusion that Australia is some laid-back, kangaroo-filled utopia where the biggest problems are hot weather, too many rabbits, and massive spiders. The more you know.

So what is going down in Australia? A lot of things.

Most worrying to me, the human rights of various groups are currently being ignored or otherwise abused at various levels of Australian government. If you are an immigrant to Australia currently being held in one of Australia’s (or “third country processing”) immigration detention centres, for example, you can expect the following:

It’s hard to find concrete information on the conditions in the detention centres (so it’s hard to know for sure what’s going on), but there are certainly a lot of unsavoury reports circulating: children playing in the heat and dirt with little access to toys, books, or education; inmates spending the majority of their days crowding together under awnings because it’s too hot to be indoors (no A/C presumably) and there’s barely any shade elsewhere; menstruating women being forced to ask guards for tampons and pads and receiving only one or two at a time (the Australian Government denies this one but the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre says it has been receiving “reports of this nature for some time” so I’m not really sure what is true); asylum seekers becoming addicted to painkillers and sleeping pills while in detention, etc. All in all it doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

And it’s not just immigrants and asylum seekers finding their rights trampled these days. If you’re an Australian citizen who also happens to be gay, you were probably pretty disappointed when Australia’s High Court overturned recent legislation passed by the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) allowing same sex couples to marry after an appeal by the Australian federal government (for their part, the court passes no moral judgement on whether or not same sex couples should be allowed to marry but says that marriage law in Australia can only be changed by the federal government, and the feds don’t seem too keen on making any changes).

In some parts of Australia, lack of marriage equality may only be the tip of the homophobic iceberg–if you’re a gay person in South Australia, New South Wales, or Queensland, you’ll need to be careful who you hit on. “Gay panic” defense laws in these Australian states allow the receiver of your flirtations to murder you in “self-defense” (apparently because the terror caused by being hit on by a gay person could send your murderer into such a panic he/she forgets that murdering people is an extremely inappropriate response).

Immigrants and the queer community aside, Australia is still a good place for the average hetero-normative citizen to hang out and kick back with their buds, right? Well….not if you live in Queensland, like riding motorcycles, and like hanging out with other people who like riding motorcycles. The state’s new “anti-bikie” laws can now prosecute citizens for “association” with groups considered to be criminal (whether you personally have done anything illegal or not). Suspected “associates” arrested under these new laws will be held in solitary confinement in a specially-built prison (so they can’t “associate” I guess). You can read about the laws on the Queensland Government website if you like (particularly bewildering is the new act banning gang members and “associates” from owning or working in tattoo parlours). On the surface, trying to target biker gangs might seem like a good idea, but the laws are far too broad. How would you feel if your Elks Club was disbanded because a few top-ranking members were involved in criminal activity? Or if you were arrested for being an “associate” on the basis of your membership in the aforementioned criminal Elks Club?

I’m not trying to hate on Australia. I’ve always loved the idea of Australia and I’ve always wanted to go there. Nearly every Australian I’ve met has been friendly and lovely. Which makes these kinds of news stories incredibly disappointing, and makes me wonder if my tourism dollars might be better spent elsewhere (now I know how people in other countries must be feeling about Canada nowadays).

All this is to say that we should never rest on our laurels and assume we in the English-speaking world have our shit together when it comes to human rights. We don’t. And we shouldn’t assume the United States is the only “western” country where homophobic or xenophobic laws trample on rights. It isn’t. And we shouldn’t assume that we in Canada could never stoop to these lows. Unfortunately, we can, and will, if we don’t stay informed and stay active in our democracy.

On that note, I should give Australia its due and mention that the only reason I even know about these issues is because in addition to bigoted governments, Australia also seems to have a lot of citizens willing to stand against these unjust laws and policies through social media, petitions, and other traditional and/or creative protests. So there’s a lot of bad shit going down in Australia, it’s true, but there’s a lot of good shit too.

Home Ethi-nomics: Sometimes I Think I Should be Vegan

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

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[Note: I probably won’t be vegan, but hear me out anyways.]

Over the past few months I have been surprised to find myself examining some of the domestic life choices I have assumed will never change, and really asking myself if a change is possible, or desired. I didn’t intend to engage in this self-reflection, it just sort of happened, but now that it has I’m not sure what to make of it.

The other day I said to my TC “I think maybe I’m supposed to be vegan” and he said “Huh” because I love eating meat (though we generally only eat it once or twice a week, definitely more than fulfilling that “Meatless Monday” thing already). To clarify, I am not talking about becoming vegan to be healthy, I am talking about veganism as an ethical choice. The reason I was thinking about this was an article I read on The Vegan Woman blog, misleadingly titled 10 Reasons You Should NOT Go Vegan (which basically just makes fun of the reasons people give not to be vegan–I actually clicked on the link when I saw it on Facebook because I was feeling bombarded by anti-meat and dairy posts from vegan friends lately and I wanted to feel good about myself, which I suspect is why the article is titled the way it is, to catch us meat-apologists off guard).

The premise of the post is that there aren’t really any good reasons not to go vegan. The writer lists ten common excuses meat-eaters use to explain to their vegan friends why they don’t want to be vegan, and debunks them. A lot of these excuses and subsequent debunkings don’t apply to me because I’m not an idiot (I have never told anyone that “plants feel pain too” or that a cow would explode if I didn’t drink milk), so I ignored those parts. Excuse #7, “If God didn’t want us to eat animals, he wouldn’t have made them taste so good,” is a very silly excuse but I do take issue with the blogger countering this excuse by quoting “Thou shalt not kill” and suggesting that this maxim applies to animals too. Ethically, you could argue that it does, but in terms of what the Bible says, sorry honey. If I recall my grade 10 Christian Ethics class correctly, according to the Bible, a heavenly voice came to the apostle Peter in a vision, showed him a variety of animals (including pigs, which Christians were not yet eating) and told him it was a-okay to eat them:

He saw heaven opened and something like a large sheet being let down to earth by its four corners. 12It contained all kinds of four-footed animals, as well as reptiles and birds. 13Then a voice told him, “Get up, Peter. Kill and eat.”

Again, I’m not saying these were necessarily ethical instructions, but if you’re going to quote the Bible at non-vegans you should probably know your stuff. (By the by, I’m not Christian but Christian Ethics was a required course at the English school I attended in grade 10 and I got an A+ so there).

Specifically Christian ethics aside, I have been considering the ethical factors at play in whether or not to eat animals and animal products and the final plea of this pro-vegan blog post was really the clincher for me:

Please, if you have an inkling that animals shouldn’t be killed just for your palate, don’t use habit or your upbringing to brush the thought aside, stand up and be part of the generation that heralds the change.

Oh boy. You got me there, vegan blogger. Though I love eating meat and think it’s great, I’m not always 100% sure that I should be supporting the meat industry. So why do I?

My reasons are generally ones I’m not proud of: laziness, my particular taste, cheapness. If these were my only reasons then continuing to eat meat would not be morally justifiable. But I do it anyways, and I don’t just think it’s because I’m an asshole, is it?

In order to answer this question I have to ask myself what I believe about animals and the rights of animals vs. the rights of humans. Philosophically, this area is incredibly interesting but incredibly uncomfortable. If it is morally wrong to kill or keep animals for the purposes of food production on the grounds that animals feel pain, the line between humans and animals becomes very blurry. And I believe in the line, even though I can’t quite define it. Isn’t there a difference between humans and animals? Isn’t there a difference between their pain and ours? I think most of us would agree it’s morally reprehensible to, for example, treat an animal better than we would a human being, but why? If there is a difference, what is it?

And if there isn’t a difference between the rights of humans and the rights of animals, wouldn’t it logically follow that keeping pets would not be vegan either, ethically speaking? Since a pet owner takes something from an animal (their companionship) and often keeps them in confined spaces without their consent (ever heard of “crate training” a dog?), controlling their ability to perform to basic bodily activities like feeding and going to the bathroom, would pet ownership not be a direct exploitation of an animal? And what about making the decision to “put down” a pet who may or may not be at the end of its natural life, without its consent? I have met one or two vegans who refuse to keep pets for these reasons, but there are many many vegans who do keep pets and who, presumably, do not see this as ethically problematic (and power to them, I think responsible pet ownership is great though I’m not so on board with crating dogs).

Which says to me that people’s relationships to animals must be located on a spectrum, rather than being an either/or issue. On one end of the spectrum we have vegans who refuse even to keep pets. On the other we have people who kill, torture, or otherwise cause unnecessary pain to animals for fun or profit, believing it to be their right as a superior species and/or as the “owner” or “caretaker” of the animal. My challenge, it seems, is to situate myself on this spectrum in a way that I can feel morally comfortable with. What do I accept? Penning animals? Breeding animals? Killing animals?

Though this may be morally repugnant to some, I have to accept that I am obviously okay with animals being killed in certain situations. No matter how blurry the line might be, I do believe there is a difference between human beings and animals (which is why I am annoyed when, say, people give more love to their pets than their children, or spend exorbitant amounts of money adopting stray dogs in third world countries instead of using what is clearly surplus cash on something that would benefit the human children in those countries). Society clearly believes in a difference (which is why dogs that attack human infants are put down, rather than being allowed to eat the baby as a reward for being the stronger predator in this particular food chain). I guess, as a human, I have a bias towards other humans. And I think that’s okay, within reason.

My upbringing probably has a lot to do with it. Not only was I raised eating meat, I was also raised within walking distance of several farms. Until I was in grade school I drank whole milk from the farm down the road, and I have been present for the butchering of chickens on more than one occasion. We ate eggs from our own hens (who got to scratch around and roost and lay however they liked). My parents have, for the most part, purchased their beef and bison meat directly from neighbouring farms all my life. I didn’t come up with some sugary vision of happy cows wandering around in grassy fields because the meat industry told me this was so, this is my concept of meat because I actually saw it for myself. I don’t really have a problem with it. I don’t think it was wrong.

It’s worth noting that many cultures we respect and acknowledge as having a special relationship with animals and the environment (First Nations cultures in Canada, for example) still kill and eat them. I don’t think of these practices as unethical as long as they are not wasteful and do not cause unnecessary suffering. The problem for me is not that animals die so that I can eat meat, the problem for me is actually that I don’t live in rural Saskatchewan anymore. I don’t know who’s raising my meat now and I don’t know how these food animals are treated. Probably not well.

So since I’m not going to be raising and butchering animals with my own two hands anytime soon, and since I do have an inkling that consuming the products of industrialized meat and dairy farming supports a system that isn’t okay, what do I do? Do I give up meat and cheese and eggs (which I’ve already said is unlikely)? Do I just hold on and hope I will one day move back to a rural area where I can have a closer relationship with food animals? Do I drive all over the city looking for ethical meat and spend the big bucks on it? (If anyone has suggestions for good butchers/meat suppliers in East Van/Vancouver that only sell “ethical” meat, please pass them along, leave a comment, etc. because this is an option I do want to look into).

I really don’t know what I’ll choose to do. I might do nothing, which is sometimes the result of my ethical dilemmas. I might do a lot. I might do a little. Either way, it is likely that I won’t blog about it again, because even taking ethics into consideration I believe that eating is personal. I might blog about the struggle, as I have here, but I don’t want to talk about the actual food. I’m the one who will have to be morally accountable for the food choices I make. I just want to try to make choices I can live with.

“Corporations in our Heads”: the human event of the season

/ Lauren / Leave a comment
Artistic Director David Diamond. Photo credit: Tim Matheson

Artistic Director David Diamond. Photo credit: Tim Matheson

Technically, Theatre for Living (formerly Headlines Theatre) is a “theatre” company and therefore ostensibly makes “art”, but if you are lucky enough to attend one of their four remaining showings of Corporations in our Heads, you will see what I mean when I say it is a primarily “human” event, rather than a traditionally “artistic” one.

What I mean is that the “art” of it (virtuosity, technical wizardry, etc.) is not the point–we are. The event doesn’t happen without the audience because there aren’t any actors, and there isn’t any script. What the show does have is artistic and managing director David Diamond, who facilitates and bookends the various moments in the event as the audience creates it through their reactions and their questions and their stories. (The theatrical techniques used to make this happen are explained very thoroughly on the Corporations in our Heads website and it’s important to know that although participation by the audience is absolutely essential to the event and the evening is the richer for it, absolutely NO ONE will be forced to participate if they don’t want to).

So Corporations in our Head is a human event. And it’s a great one. Because every night will be different, I can really only describe what it’s like by explaining what happened to me, and what I took away from the experience.

The show (which is just finishing a tour through communities in Alberta and BC), is based on the premise that the corporations that produce and control the food we eat, the drugs we take, the clothes we wear, the phones we buy, etc.  have expanded out of the realm occupied by the products they sell and have taken up residence in our heads. As a starting point, the show identifies and explores the ways that, consciously or not, our decisions are affected (often unhealthily) by the corporate messages in our heads. As the show begins to unpack the messages recognized and shared by the audience (they always come from the audience, not the show facilitators) it is startling to see how easy it is to identify certain brands based on the corporate messages being shared, and the ways in which we, as human beings in a western society, relate to these messages and brands as we would relate to a real person who had a real relationship with us (examples uncovered last night include the “Lululemon best friend” who wants you to have the same sexy yoga-tastic booty-short fun she is having, or the “No Name Brand grandma” who can’t understand why you would spend more money on something of higher quality when you can just buy larger quantities of a poor quality product).

I have a feeling that the experience I had is going to continue to unfold and reveal and provide insights and eureka moments in the days and weeks to come, but at this time the idea that really struck a chord with me is the idea that we relate to corporations and corporate messages the way we relate to real people. As an example, many people in attendance last night, David Diamond and myself included, cited their deeply loyal relationship to Apple products, despite knowing what they know about labour conditions in the factories that make the products, and about what their relationship to technology is doing to their own lives (I have similar feelings of loyalty to products like Gmail and Microsoft Word, and WordPress, the platform that hosts my blog).

But relationships with corporations go beyond loyalty to a brand we like. Even those corporations and brands we don’t like have relationships with us, whether we want these relationships or not. At a moment during the show, I decided to “intervene” in a scene between an audience member playing herself in a grocery store, and another audience member playing a “Dove soap therapist”, a slippery character who refused to identify their true message and position and instead kept trying to convince the poor girl to trust that the corporation knew better. After I took the place of the girl in the grocery store, I quickly became frustrated and realized that for me, this slippery corporation was not Dove soap, it was Enbridge and the federal government, refusing to acknowledge the significant damage their pipeline will cause and instead insisting that they know better what I, as a Canadian, need and want. After Diamond told us we couldn’t speak anymore but instead had to move in slow motion, the scene became one in which I (in slow motion) began kicking and punching the corporate message as it continued to move calmly around me, holding and caressing and glomming onto my leg or my fist or my shoulder but not responding to the passion or clarity of my actions in kind.

It was embarrassing and frustrating and all too familiar. Because this is what frustrates me about the way the government and Enbridge are operating: they can’t say that a spill won’t happen, because that isn’t true, but they refuse to say, “Yes, a spill will happen, and we acknowledge the devastation this will cause, and we simply don’t care.” Instead they plan to commit extreme acts of violence against communities and ecosystems while refusing to acknowledge that this violence is occurring.

After I sat back down I suddenly realized that I also have had this kind of relationship with ex-partners, people with whom I was engaged in a toxic relationship of some kind, and who refused to acknowledge that their actions were hurtful or inappropriate and instead left me railing against the air, powerless and hurt and humiliated. This realization was a punch in the gut. Do corporations really treat me the way bad boyfriends did? I never consented to a relationship with the Harper government or Enbridge, what gives them the right? And how can I fight something that refuses to acknowledge that there is a conflict?

Based on facial expressions, gasps of recognition, and comments from people around me, I don’t think I was the only one having these uncomfortable realizations throughout the night. It was very profound to watch a middle-aged man in a sports t-shirt drop his head into his hands because he saw something in this dialogue that resonated with him. Or to watch audience member MLA Spencer Chandra Herbert, a man with extensive experience dealing with uncooperative politicians and situations in conflict, becoming flustered at his inability to turn off the unwanted bubbly messages of the Lululemon best friend (fun fact: Chandra Herbert studied in the same theatre program I did in my undergrad, though he graduated before I enrolled and I did not know him).

Throughout the evening, Diamond shared anecdotes from his experiences touring the show in other communities, anecdotes which informed the conversation we were having. Like the community where Lululemon products are only available at Christmas, increasing their cache as a desirable gift. Or the community where a mining company insists the town has to approve the mine it wants to operate, or the town will never be able to “compete” (with what? with whom? in what league, the Tournament of Towns?).

What I like about Theatre for Living is that their work doesn’t simply point a finger at the problem and leave us to feel shitty about it. That said, their work also doesn’t provide unrealistic, overly simplistic, or “one-size-fits-all” solutions to the problems being examined. Potential solutions are suggested or enacted by audience members, with varying degrees of success, the point being that we can begin to think about our relationships to these problems differently, not that we will necessarily happen upon solutions during the show. This is an attitude I admired during Theatre for Living’s previous show, maladjusted, which examined the mental healthcare system, and an attitude I appreciate even more when watching a show about an issue more intimately and insidiously familiar to me.

Corporate messages affecting our decision-making is a problem that can’t easily be solved by enacting a piece of legislation or by installing ad-blocking software. Diamond makes it clear that, “The impulse for Corporations in our Heads is not one that assumes we can end corporate messaging. [Corporations] are going to communicate with us…We cannot just turn it all off. We can, however, change our relationship to the messaging.”

What does changing this relationship means to you? You’ll have to discover this for yourself, though if you can make it to an evening of Corporations in our Heads I believe you will be in a good place to start figuring it out. This show will not do it for you—we are the ones who are in relationships with the corporations in our heads. Us. And we are the only ones who can change it.

Corporations in our Heads has only four nights remaining in its run:

  • Thursday, December 5 – Gallery Gachet, 88 E. Cordova St.
  • Friday, December 6 – Vancouver Aboriginal Friendship Centre (VAFCS), 1607 E. Hastings St.
  • Saturday, December 7 – SFU Harbour Centre, Terasen Cinema, 515 W. Hastings St.
  • Sunday, December 8 – Café Deux Soleils, 2096 Commercial Drive

All shows begin at 7:00 p.m. Please call 604-871-0508 for information or to reserve a seat.

If you want to read more about Corporations in our Heads, you may want to check out Theatre for Living’s website or this article on rabble.ca.

Artwork design: Daphne Blanco

Barcode butterfly: Daphne Blanco

Disclosure: I was invited to review Corporations in our Heads by Theatre for Living and provided two seats for the show. I was compelled to participate in one of the scenes by my recognition that something in the relationships I was seeing disturbed me (I was not personally asked to participate), and I think this was an enriching part of my overall experience. The content of this review is, as always, my own, and I give it gladly. I really, really, want people to participate in this important conversation.

People Powered: the No Enbridge Pipeline Rally

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

On Saturday, TC and I joined thousands of concerned Metro Vancouver citizens at the No Enbridge Pipeline Rally, the Vancouver edition of the Defend Our Climate, Defend Our Communities national day of action.

I was happy to lend my voice to the choir of thousands upon thousands of Canadians coast to coast who rallied for an environmentally and ethically responsible future, and the theme of this particular event (No Enbridge Pipeline) was also personal for me. Some people (i.e. politicians and media) often like to insist that shipping oil by pipeline to the coast would be safer than shipping it by rail, but the problem for me is not the mode of transportation. I don’t want tar sands crude reaching the BC coast at all, because once it does, it will be loaded into tankers which will navigate some of the most pristine and dangerous coastline in the world. It would take just one of these massive bitumen-heavy tankers to have a mishap (and it’s not a question of IF this will happen, it’s WHEN), and an ecological catastrophe would ensue.

I fell in love with the love of my life in this city by the sea, we celebrated our engagement kayaking off the coast of Salt Spring Island (with the sea birds and the seals and the otters and the countless marine species that call the water home), and it is beside this same seal-inhabited sea that my TC and I will be married. It would break my heart if our federal and provincial governments’ short-sighted hunger for dirty oil money were to kill or irreversibly harm a beautiful coastline and ecosystem that has given me so much.

My feelings aside, if we’re talking dollars and cents, the permanent costs to the various BC industries that would be decimated by a spill (fishing, aquaculture, tourism, etc.) far outweigh the temporary and minimal benefits that allowing this pipeline (and with it, the tankers) might bring to the province. Though interested parties insist oil and pipeline companies will make sure “world-class” and “world-leading” spill-recovery technology would be in place, the fact of the matter is that oil companies are already using “world-class” technology to clean up their spills, and they aren’t doing a good job of it (three years later Enbridge is still mopping up their spill in the Kalamazoo). If the technology existed to quickly and effectively clean up oil spills, don’t you think companies would be using it, instead of subjecting themselves to a PR disaster every time a major spill occurred? The fact is, the technology to effectively remove bitumen from the ocean does not exist on this planet. So “world-leading” technology, i.e. the best the world has got, is not nearly good enough.

While I was pleased to see mention of the rally in the media (the Vancouver Sun printed a decent summary of the event), it troubles me somewhat when a gathering of thousands of concerned BC citizens is described, as it was in the Province, as “a broad collection of First Nations, environmental, and political groups” (it also bothers me that the last word was more or less given to Enbridge, who have more than enough money to buy some advertising space themselves and do so on a regular basis). While each of the rally’s speakers did fit into at least one of these ethnic, political, or activist categories, and organized groups were certainly in attendance at the rally, labeling the people assembled on Saturday simply as members of this group or that group separates them from the broader BC citizenry, when in fact, those in attendance at the rally were certainly more representative of BC-ers as a whole than any glad-handing politician or smiling corporate representative could be (I mean, take a look at the photos TC took at the event. They look like regular people to me, regular people who are committed to this issue).

Yes, many of us are members or one group or another (or several), but we are still citizens of this province and this country, not separate entities. As a people, we are against the pipeline, and against oil tanker traffic on BC’s coast. What’s so hard to understand? Thousands of people gathered to voice their dissent. People. Not foreign agents. Not radicals. Not malcontents. Moms. Dads. Kids in strollers. Students. Nature lovers (not necessarily members of an environmental group). People who care about the rights of First Nations people (not necessarily First Nations themselves or a member of a First Nations group). People who care about what is happening to democracy in this country and don’t want a pipeline shoved down their throats without their permission (not necessarily members of a political party or group). Grannies in crocheted hats and pea coats. 20-somethings with dreadlocks. Guys dressed as fish. Girls waving orca signs. Taxpayers. Voters. Kayakers on False Creek holding banners in support of the rally. Gay people. Straight people. People of many different races. Young couples in love, like TC and me. Just people. Lots and lots of people.

When City of Vancouver Councillor Andrea Reimer took to the stage to assure us that the City of Vancouver (that’s the whole city mind you, not just First Nations people or environmentalists or political activists) is against the pipeline, I have never been more proud of my city. Vancouver may have a reputation for being cold, or superficial, but we stand for more than just that-time-when-we-hosted-the-Olympics. We stand for something important.

TC and I stood together for something important that day, and thousands of people stood with us. And I don’t know what will happen and I’m very very worried but I’m very very proud too. If a pipeline gets built, no government will be able to say that only radicals were against it (I mean, I’m a secretary for goodness sakes, if I wanted to be an anarchist I’d throw a brick through a window, not attend a peaceful rally). If that pipeline breaks, no government will be able to say this is what the people asked for. If a tanker spills, no government will be able to say they didn’t know their people said no. We will hold them responsible. Hopefully we won’t have to.

A Feminist’s Case for Men’s Centres on University Campuses

/ Lauren / 1 Comment

male-sign-bathroom-bw-boarder-hiWomen’s Centres have been a regular fixture on many university campuses for a number of years. These spaces provide a safe environment for self-identified women to hang out on campus, but also to access support, referrals, and resources pertaining to sexual and reproductive health, sexual assault, domestic abuse, and mental health. Women’s Centres are usually pro-feminist, pro-choice, anti-racist, and anti-homophobic. Which is all to say that Women’s Centres on university campuses are something I wholeheartedly support. There are numerous issues that affect women and I understand completely the need and desire for women to have a safe, non-pressured space at university.

What often dismays me is the backlash that follows any institution’s forays into developing Men’s Centres. While I know that the fear of a designated “male space” being co-opted by MRA groups to push an anti-woman agenda is legitimate, I feel that the status quo is not really working either. If disenfranchised young men can’t find support on campus, where do you think they’ll end up? MRA internet forums are ready to welcome angry young men with open arms, and believe me, the discussions there are a lot more scary and stomach-churning than anything that would occur under a university administration’s purview.

The issue of whether or not Men’s Centres belong on campus is very complex and a lot of factors are at play here. I suppose when I voice my support for Men’s Centres on university campuses, I should clarify what I mean and why: I mean a safe space for self-identified men to hang out on campus, but also to access support, referrals, and resources pertaining to sexual and reproductive health, sexual assault, domestic abuse, and mental health. When I say “self-identified men” this of course includes trans men and men of any age, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. As a woman, I have always felt more comfortable discussing my emotional, mental, and sexual health with other women, and I imagine that men would feel similarly about discussing these issues with men.

Of course, it’s not as simple as this, as last year’s debate over Simon Fraser University’s proposed Men’s Centre demonstrates (I should note that while I support Men’s Centres in principle, the way in which funding for this proposed Centre was acquired and the reasoning behind it was problematic and over-simplistic to me). There are very legitimate concerns, including a long-standing history of female oppression, that would need to be addressed before a Men’s Centre should go ahead. Open and cooperative communication between Women’s and Men’s Centres on campus should be a must. The attitudes expressed in either Centre should never be adversarial or competitive towards its counterpart and the objectives of each Centre, including a code of conduct for staff and volunteers, should be clearly stated and adhered to (this would hopefully prevent a Men’s Centre from devolving into a misogynistic clubhouse).

I think debates around the rationale for Men’s Centres are important because the “target” of such a Centre would need to be identified. Is the Men’s Centre being established to blame, fight, or otherwise “push back” at women/feminism? If so, such a Men’s Centre would not be an appropriate use of university space or funds–it would basically be a university-sanctioned hate-space. But if the Men’s Centre is being established to address issues related to men’s mental and physical well-being, and to recognize the harmful ways patriarchy puts pressure on young men (by telling them that “real men” don’t cry, or providing them with only a very rigid and outdated framework for what it means to “be a man”, promoting steroid use or violence as a problem-solver, etc.), then this is absolutely the kind of initiative I would support.

I’ve heard the sound byte that “every space outside the Women’s Centre is already a Men’s Centre”, and I see where this is coming from. Historically, the world we live in was for centuries strictly a man’s world, and in the majority of private and public spaces, it still is. That being said, I also know the following:

  • Men suffer from mental health issues; many suffer from drug and alcohol addiction; many commit suicide
  • Men are victims of sexual assault (their attacker can be male or female)
  • Men are victims of domestic abuse (their abuser can be male or female)
  • Men are victims of childhood abuse (their abuser can be male or female)
  • Men have health concerns specific to their gender (prostate cancer, for example)

It has always seemed strange to me that what would be immediately (and rightfully) recognized as assault (by most people) if it happened to an unconscious woman at a party is often dismissed as “hazing” or “a joke” if it happens to a man (a couple examples involving amateur sports teams come to mind). I’m always surprised to hear from those who believe that a man can’t be raped by a woman because “something has to be cooperating” in order for the rape to occur (news flash: boner or no, if the guy is passed out and hasn’t said yes, it’s not consensual and it’s not okay). Most of these male victims are shamed into invisibility–they’re “pussies” for not being able to prevent their own assault, and “reporting” usually gets no further than hallway whispers on Monday morning or a pained admission to a spouse. I believe that creating a space for men to receive help and support sends three important and very useful messages:

  1. Rape, sexual assault, and domestic abuse do occur.
  2. No one, regardless of their gender, and regardless of the gender of their attacker, deserves to be raped, assaulted, or abused.
  3. If you are a victim of rape, assault, or abuse, you can receive help regardless of your gender. Being attacked does not make you a less worthy woman, or a less worthy man.

While it is true that women are victims of sexual assault more often than men, an official acknowledgement by men (as enshrined in the mandate of a Centre, for example) that these crimes do exist would, in my opinion, be a very good step in the fight against rape culture. And I am simply not interested in comparing wounds. How can I say that a woman’s rape is worse than a man’s (except to say that it was more likely to happen to the woman)? I can’t. And how can I say a male rape victim would be less deserving of a safe space on campus? I can’t–the patriarchy that put him in an historically-advantaged position obviously did not prevent his rape, and is not his fault.

I should note that the resources and referrals offered through Simon Fraser University’s Women’s Centre are also available to men, and that the Women’s Centre welcomes the involvement of “Male Allies”. While I applaud these initiatives, I don’t think they can be as effective as they are well-intentioned. The fact of the matter is, if you are the kind of “manly man” that cares about his masculine image to the point that it would be hard for you to ask for help or support if needed, I highly doubt you would be caught dead approaching the Women’s Centre for assistance (I’m not saying it’s a very sophisticated attitude to have, I’m just saying it’s true). I also believe that a man wishing to learn more about the effects of gender constructs and the legacy of patriarchy in his own life shouldn’t have to do so through the Women’s Centre as an Ally, he should be able to do so simply as a man who is interested in gender (yes, I know he could just go to the library but he might not know where to start). A male gender studies professor might be the perfect person to help curate such resources in a Men’s Centre on campus.

Finally, while I am not a fan of patriarchy, I don’t believe men themselves are the problem. I respect that there are some instances in which men would prefer to turn to other men for advice, resources, or support, the way I expect men to respect my preference for discussing sensitive personal matters with women. The bottom line is, I trust men to investigate and support their gender without being misogynistic, the way I expect my feminism not to be aligned with misandry. The more we push against Men’s Centres, the more MRA groups (the exact opposite of the kind of groups we want to see on campus) will use this as “evidence” of some kind of feminist conspiracy to oppress men. What I want to see is less angry, suffering, and disenfranchised men on campuses with nowhere to turn. I think Men’s Centres could help.

All I’m saying is give the guys a chance. Established correctly and run with sensitivity and a spirit of collaboration, Men’s Centres could become some of our most useful allies as we try to make university campuses a safe and supportive place for everybody, no matter their gender.

Lest We Forget to Remember

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

It’s a law of Canadian nature: once the Halloween candy has been eaten and the weather has turned the kind of ugly only November can produce, red felt poppies bloom on left-side lapels nationwide. As I check and re-check to make sure mine hasn’t fallen off, I take note of who else is wearing their poppy today, who else is being patriotic and respectful. There are a lot of us. And it’s a beautiful gesture. But it isn’t nearly enough.

55E845F5BFECA4CC69881FF42DFD6_h243_w430_m2_q80_cEYBSqidjA cursory search on Google Images assures me that Prime Minister Stephen Harper has also been sporting his poppy lately. It’s nice that he has the option to pay tribute to our veterans with this photogenic little accessory, since dropping a quarter in a Canadian Legion box and picking up a poppy on a pin is a heck of a lot cheaper than supporting our surviving veterans through the Veterans Affairs Offices. Which is probably why nine of these offices are closing and elderly veterans in need of assistance are instead being directed to call 1-800 numbers and line up at Service Canada counters. CBC media personality Rick Mercer speaks very eloquently and passionately about this issue in his latest Rick’s Rant and his piece absolutely forms a large part of the context for this post:

I sometimes wonder if it’s all my fault. Like many people my age, I’m impatient with the older generations: Get out of the way, I think, I’m coming through! Give me your jobs and your electoral clout! The future is now, and it’s all for the young! With less and less surviving veterans in our midst every year, Canadian politicians can focus on that big juicy voting demographic they all love to court: middle-class families. Out of our way, grandpa! Yeah, you lost your friends and your youth and maybe your arm on the battlefield, but we want lower cellphone fees and roaming charges! (If you don’t believe lowering cellphone fees are one of our country’s top priorities, just take a look at the 2013 Throne Speech. Yes, “Supporting Our Armed Forces” is also one of the items mentioned, but it seems that our government has equated “support” with “we’ll ask you to do a lot of things for us in the Arctic and in return we’ll give you some new equipment to do things for us with”.)

When I was about 16 or so, I heard that an acquaintance and her high school choir had been permitted to perform Edwin Starr’s “War (What Is It Good For?)” at the school’s Remembrance Day function. I remember thinking at the time that that was so damn cool. I mean, WAR. Huh. What IS it good for?! ABSOLUTELY NOTHIN’!  War is stupid, and dying just because someone told you to is stupid, and killing people just because someone told you to is stupid. My friend and I used to crank the stereo in her parents’ car and just rock out. I love that song, and for the most part, I agree with its message. War means senseless death.

And yet…people fought anyways. My parents’ fathers fought anyways. Our veterans and their families probably don’t need a hit Motown song to tell them that war is a heart breaker, friend only to the undertaker (especially during a Remembrance Day ceremony, good god). They saw it. They know. And they did what they believed they had to do. Nowadays, we may be so privileged that we can’t understand this mindset (unless, of course, we are serving in Canada’s military or have loved ones who are), but that doesn’t mean we should rub this privilege in their faces. And it certainly doesn’t mean we can’t spare the money for the little bit of bureaucratic dignity that is their right.

Before I go any further, I should disclose the following:

  1. I cannot imagine a situation in which I would ever choose to see battle, to put myself in danger of being killed, or be required to kill another person.
  2. I would never want a loved one to join the Canadian Armed Forces because I don’t want them to kill people, and I don’t want them to die.

These two things being said, I still want and expect Canada’s military to protect me and my family, and to participate in conflicts overseas in a peacekeeping capacity. It is because I feel the way I do about my own participation in any kind of armed conflict that I feel anyone who does or did join up deserves so much respect–they did something I would never want to do, something I would never want a person I love to do (it’s also why I cry like a baby every November when I see the Silver Cross Mother on CBC). Was what happened to these men and women glorious? Was it honourable? It’s not for me to say, though in my personal belief system war is neither of those things. But our veterans (and the men and women currently serving) endured it anyways.

And now some of them are old. Very old. Over the years, they have seen friends and comrades pass away, and watched as society has quietly pushed them aside to make way for the things we want right now: tax breaks and lower monthly cellphone bills. We already know Canada’s greying population is going to cost us all a lot of money going forward–magazines like Maclean’s print dire warnings about it all the time. Dying is expensive. Dying with some shreds of your dignity still intact even more so. But a human being does not stop being a human being just because they are old and no longer drive the economic engine. A citizen does not stop being a citizen because they are no longer paying income taxes. And a veteran doesn’t stop being a hero just because there are fewer and fewer people alive who remember their sacrifices.

Remembrance Day is as good a time as any to remember that “remembering” is not passive, and wearing a poppy doesn’t cut it. Truly remembering another person’s sacrifice is an active way of being. It might mean our taxes are a little higher because we have the luxury to whine about roaming fees instead of living in fear that our child, sibling, spouse, or parent might not come home. It might mean our taxes are a little higher because we don’t have to worry that our government will put us in harm’s way to be a cog in some grand scheme happening on the other side of the ocean.

This Remembrance Day, instead of just showing up and receiving salutes, I would like our Prime Minister to encourage Canadians to actively remember the sacrifices of our veterans, and to trust that we want our veterans to spend their last years with the dignity they deserve, whatever the cost. You can’t put a price on human life, and we’ve already asked so many people to give up theirs.