Reginald's Law of Realization

This column is dedicated to two individuals: Terry Kyle (for your warmth and energy) and to my father (for teaching me adventure).

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The semester is wrapping up quickly. After exams are conquered, some of us will keep trudging away through spring classes, some of us will commence our summer employment, and some of us will be closing a chapter of our lives, with university degrees completed.

For those who are not returning, it can be tough to say goodbye to school… heck, it can be tough to say goodbye to a lot of things. But university is an especially formative time for many people. I know that when I finish (next April), I will leave deeply impacted by my university years. How will I make the transition from school to “the next phase”? I often wonder how will my life be different when I finish. Where will I be in 5 years?

Life is pretty random; we don’t always know where we’ll end up.

For instance, as I write this, my father (Reginald) is just north of Nowheresville, Ontario in an 18-wheel cargo truck heading east with a random man named “Oscar”.

For this little anecdote to make sense, allow me to take you back a couple of months…

On one snowy day in February, I returned to my computer (after a procrastinating pause to pluck my nose hairs) to find a slew of MSN messages from my father (who lives in Prince George, BC) telling me about his highlight of the day (usually this involves walking to get the mail). This particular message was not unlike any of the other rambling messages that I have received… until I got to the end.

“By the way, Dan, I think I’ll hitchhike across Canada to visit you in April.”

“Sure Dad”, I thought, “I’ll just paddle my canoe to Winnipeg to meet you. Then for shits and giggles, we’ll build a hot-air balloon from corncobs and fly to the Galapagos Islands to observe endangered albino dingbats.” My father… what a kook!

But not one to scoff at adventure, Reginald decided that his thumb could (and would) get him to Montreal. He hit the highway last Monday with a brown bag lunch, a backpack, and a faith that humanity would get him where he wanted to go.

Well, “humanity” took him to Red Deer, Alberta that day. But then it carried him through the prairies, north across the Great Lakes, and soon he will arrive into Toronto.

My father’s trip is becoming a learning experience for all of us. It turns out that hitchhiking in the snow kind of sucks, but that truckers are generally pretty nice (if not desperately in need of social interaction). Shortly into his trip, a talkative trucker from El Salvador picked up my snow-covered father from the side of the road. The two have become “Highway One” buddies for a couple thousand kilometers now.

Once in Toronto, Reginald plans to take the train up to Montreal. He left me a weary sounding phone message last night, “After 4000 kilometers of keeping people company, I can’t wait to get a seat to myself and to not talk to anyone.” Fair enough, I say.

I must admit that I admire my father’s sense of adventure. He has a deep-rooted theory that everything he needs in life will somehow be provided. I think Reginald’s theory shall soon be declared as “Reginald’s Law of Realization” – ask what you need, and it shall be realized.

So if you are saying “au revoir” to a certain stage in your life, good luck with transitioning into work or travels or whatever is next for you. Endings are also beginnings (but it’s okay to get sad anyway). I hope you go forth with a couple of lessons. I’ve learned a few things myself recently…

Sometimes a good ride will cost us nothing. Sometimes a willingness to talk to people will get us far. And sometimes we simply need space to be alone.

I guess it just takes a bit of courage to put your thumb out and hope that there might be a few good souls to help you get where you want to go.

May your next chapter be filled with good people and a bit of adventure…

Chocolate

This is a delicious little article from CBC...


Wondering whether you can indulge in that chocolate bunny staring at you from the box without compromising your healthy diet?

Well, if you're a lover of chocolate, you may be in luck. There is increasing evidence that chocolate can be part of a healthy diet - and that it may even offer some specific health benefits.

However, not all chocolate is created equal. Read on to find out how to incorporate this treat into your diet and get the most of what it has to offer.


mmmm... take me there!

Junk

All this talk of global warming has created a need for an introspective piano ballad.

We've torn forests apart, stripped the oceans of fish, and created so much junk in landfills.

What are we going to do with all this junk?

Smilin' with Suzuki

Canadians are finally reaching a state where climate change is no longer some lamented, bleeding-hearted battle cry from scheming leftist hippies. Instead, skeptics are finding it tough to argue against the mountains of scientific consensus that says we are indeed heading up “shit creek” without a paddle (and soon without water because the glacial sources are almost gone).

An Angus Reid poll released last week states that 77 percent of Canadians think climate change is real.

Well… duh.

What is going on in the heads of the other half-witted 23 percent? Oh right, they’re from Alberta (Zing! Sorry Albertans, roasting ya’ll is becoming clichéd. You guys deserve more credit… I know ya’ll are doing yer best to find “environmentally friendly” oil out there!)

Issues of sustainability and the environment are on my mind as I recently attended the youth summit Less Talk, More Action featuring keynote speakers David Suzuki and Al Gore.

The afternoon of speeches was inspiring and disturbing; we were beaten over the head with statistics and research on the reality of climate change. Do we need any more reason to act? Do we really need more convincing?

I left the event feeling content to have heard such amazing lectures, but with a big acid rain cloud of bleakness above my head. It is easy to feel discouraged with the current state of the environment and even more so with inept political policy.

Fortunately I have David Suzuki to bring me joy.

It is hard for me to be nonbiased or objective about David Suzuki…. he’s just so darn lovable (in an appreciative Guru sort of way). My (not so) secret fantasy is for us to grab an old, converted bio-diesel VW Westfalia and hit the highway for a two-week, cross-Canada road trip. We sleep under the northern lights, eat breakfasts at small town diners, and he bestows upon me the wisdom that he has acquired over the years. He teaches me the nature of things; I attempt to make him laugh with impersonations of George Bush and Stephen Harper. We’re modern day eco-warriors.

Al Gore can come too, but the minute he has a few shots of corn whiskey and starts talking about “Cow Tipp(er)ing” during his early days in Tennessee, he’ll be hitching his sorry ass back to America.

Speaking of Al Gore, I was actually surprised by the man. I have not yet seen “An Inconvenient Truth” (is that shameful?) and for some reason, I had really expected him to not have an actual personality; his address to the crowd was a mix of comedy act, science lecture, pep talk, and Baptist sermon. I give him kudos for his passion and knowledge, and for generating a movie that has educated the masses. He has taken election-loss-lemons and made organic lemonade.

So after attending Less Talk, More Action, I had the intention to write a passionate column about climate change and individual responsibility, filled with hard hitting statistics and inspiring prose, but I find that the message of environmental decay is becoming tiresome and laced with fear. Do I really need to motivate you to care about climate change?

No. And thank god, the “inspiring prose” idea was a long shot.

Understandably there is reason to be afraid, Suzuki and Gore attested to that; we need to change and we need to change quickly. Fast change requires that we challenge our communities and ourselves.

But how do we deal with the challenge?

When I am sweating in yoga class, trying to twist myself into some unnatural human pretzel, my instructor often says, “When it becomes really uncomfortable, curl up the sides of your mouth”. At that point I remember to breathe and usually release an awkward expression that is somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

When it comes to ecological and economic issues, we need to challenge in order to change. This means challenging our notions of what is a "healthy society", which currently is heavily defined through financial capital. Healthy societies are those where the citizens are physically, financially, spiritually, and socially content.

It will be a beautiful day when we have reestablished a sense of ecological balance, and it will be even greater if we are able to keep our abilities to smile as we go through the inevitable challenges required.

I know that I’ll be smiling because I’ve got David Suzuki on my side.


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You can access the David Suzuki Foundation from the link on the side of this page.

Is it getting hot in here?

A recent Angus Reid poll stated that 77% of Canadians belief that Global Warming is occurring (see article).

Where do you stand on this issue? What advice do you have for Canadians?


The content of this post is your comments.

Finally, a cure...

People have problems. Let's face it, whether it's the nagging pain in your back or your dreaded mother-in-law or the negative balance in your bank account, there's usually something that needs fixing.

For some people the problem is all in their heads. This is a fascinating video glimpse into an intervention that could provide a cure for millions of people. Never give up hope on a cure.

Re: Please do not excuse/exclude yourself...

I appreciate when people leave comments and engage with the subject that has been brought to the table (whether you agree with what I have to say, or not).

Kudos for speaking from the heart...

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I think the notion of 'not seeing skin color' comes from a couple of places, one is as you are suggesting-an inherent part of unexplored/unacknowledged racism, the other comes from people wanting to come from a place of respecting and valuing everyone regardless of the color of skin.

However, I personally feel that if people aren't noticing that my skin is a bit darker than theirs perhaps, then they are not really seeing me for who I am and that doesn't feel good or respectful. Racism has become such an ugly word in our society that as people we become afraid to talk about it.

Let's just acknowledge that we live in a world where skin color comes with a multitude of assumptions/biases and lets look at our assumptions and how we enact those and then perpetuate this thing we call 'racism', and then do as you are suggesting-take some responsibility for changing this.

-Cathy Baylis
[Community worker, painter, healer, aboriginal woman, grandmother]

Please do not excuse/exclude yourself...

“I am not racist.”

I have heard this self-serving proclamation too many times. Each time I question why people feel a need to tell me this. Each time I wonder if people know they are wasting their words with me. Each time I am break into my “actually-you-are-probably-more-racist-than-you-think” rant and attempt to explain why racism is not so black & white (pun definitely intended).

And here I go again.

Despite an increasing cultural sensitivity towards human diversity, racism is a social virus that continues to eat at the spine of our collective human body. Yet I often hear people proclaiming “racist innocence”. There are several reasons why it is pointless to say, “I am not racist”, and why the statement does more damage than good.

Firstly, to say that one is not racist, under the seemingly innocent claim of “I don’t see skin colour”, is a blatant lie (unless of course you are actually blind). When we pretend not to see skin colour, we refuse to acknowledge the realities that individuals experience. To be “colour-blind” denies the lived experiences of people who have actually been marginalized by racist beliefs and policy. We see skin colour. Don’t lie.

Secondly, in our current cultural climate, racist beliefs are increasingly socially unacceptable. Thus to proclaim innocence from any racist beliefs could simply be an individual’s attempt to adhere to social norms. If you tell me you are not racist, I have no idea if you are simply trying to be likeable or if you actually have a deep appreciation for diversity. In trying to create a positive social image for oneself, the statement is as effective as saying, “I don’t kill babies”. My response is, “That’s great, yet it doesn’t actually tell me anything about you.”

Thirdly, despite our movement towards the social unacceptability of racism, it is a prevalent issue in our cultural and political systems. Any claims of non-racism are negated by the fact that we buy into these systems all the time. Whether you are placing an electoral vote, purchasing cheap-labour produced goods, or paying your taxes, you are perpetuating the system – a system that ranks people according to their gender, age, physical abilities and, most definitely, the colour of their skin.

Need more proof? Systemic or “institutional” racism is evident in our primarily “white” parliament, in discriminatory immigration policies, and in the vulnerabilities of aboriginal and other ethnic populations to HIV infection, drug addiction, and suicide rates. We are all part of a system that perpetuates racism, thus we are not individually free of racism.

Finally (and a tangent of my previous point), there is a direct link between consumerism and racism. Why is there a tendency to fill minimum wage jobs with immigrant workers of colour? Why do we out-source so much of our production to overseas nations? Before you drop your next paycheck at your local Wal-Mart, think about how food, clothing, and other goods are produced. Can a person claim to be “un-racist” while supporting businesses that perpetuate poverty through impossibly low wages? Poverty and racism exist inseparably.

The underlying idea that I am hammering home is that we live in a culture with racism engrained into its framework. To say, “I am not racist” is to excuse oneself from acknowledging that systemic racial problems exist. It is not only pointless to proclaim, “I am not racist”, but also damaging. By refusing to recognize one’s individual role and responsibility in adjusting the system, we in turn perpetuate the status quo. We are each a part of the problem, and we can each chose to be part of the solution.

So what can we do? An appreciation for human diversity is communicated through words, but more importantly through actions. Here are some places to start:

• Think about whom you vote and the values of this individual or political party. Will your local representative reflect and honour the diversity of your riding?

• Educate yourself on Canada’s racist history: we have exploited, institutionalized, displaced, and colonized. Don’t deny people of their past; it has huge impact on their realities today (this starts with seeing colour).

• Think about what you buy. Our greatest power is that of a consumer. Who is impacted by my need to have the absolute lowest prices? Move towards responsible and critical consuming.

• Watch what comes out of your mouth (and the mouths of those around you). Are there ways to be humourous without targeting someone’s culture or skin colour?

Instead of wasting words on proclamations of innocence from racism, let’s think about the ways that we can foster inclusion, respect, and appreciation. Change comes slowly, but it starts at the individual level. Your actions will echo.

March 21 is the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.

I'm different, you're different

In Montreal, and in other places across Canada, Action Week Against Racism has just begun. Various events can be found at inforacisme.com. I'll be checking out the Human Rights Film Festival.

Film can be a powerful way to send a message.

This is a video submitted for the national March 21 Stop Racism campaign. It's from Archwood School in Winnipeg, Manitoba. You can watch more of the videos and get more information about submitting on the Canadian Heritage Website.

Spirituality 101

Warriors (are appreciated)

Interesting, and slightly disturbing, article on cbc.ca this morning which relates to a previous posting on [the little spruce tree]. It is evidence of a current cultural tendency to create shame surrounding female sexuality.

What do you think?

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Vagina Monologues author to address school board over suspension issue

Eve Ensler, writer of The Vagina Monologues, will speak to the school district in New York state where three girls were suspended for using the word "vagina" while performing a section of the play.

Susan Celia Swan, Ensler's assistant, confirmed Friday the writer will speak on Tuesday at a school theatre in the New York city suburb of Cross River just before a meeting of the board of education.

She will appear with the 16-year-old girls who uttered the word — Hannah Levinson, Megan Reback and Elan Stahl — according to school board member Peter Breslin.

John Jay High School Principal Richard Leprine said the three had agreed not to use the word but included it in an excerpt from the play they recited at a school event last week. Leprine suspended the girls for a day each.

Leprine said they had promised not to use the word because there might be young children in the audience. The three say they never made such an agreement and have had an outpouring of support from fellow students and parents.

Ensler responded to news of the suspensions by calling it "a throwback to the Dark Ages" and hailed the girls as "Vagina Warriors."

District Superintendent Bob Lichtenfeld then postponed the suspensions.

Since news broke earlier in the week about the situation, the teens have become anti-censorship icons.

"We did it because we believe in the word vagina, and because we believe it's not a bad word. It shouldn't be a word that is ever censored, and the way in which we used it was respectable," Reback told the New York Times.

(taken from cbc.ca)

plug for this tree

In a lovely twist of fate, after having recently plugged some of my favourite things, a mysterious fellow blogger has written a review of [the little spruce tree]... and I didn't even pay for it!

Check it out on Puck's Prattle.

tree/plugs

The Little Spruce Tree, in many ways, is more an online magazine than an actual blog. As such, I have decided to introduce a regular "Review" section (as you find in most 'zines) where I will share some of the good stuff I have found. If you have suggestions, please feel free to share the good things that you have found.

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[heard] Ray Lamontagne. Every so often I stumble across an album that provides me with the soundtrack to my life (I know it sounds cliché, but it's true). In the past, albums from Sarah Harmer, Travis, Kathleen Edwards, and Damien Rice have been the backdrop to break-ups, roadtrips and relocations. Right now my soundtrack is Till The Sun Turns Black by Ray Lamontagne.

The album gently traverses the lines between folk, rock, and soul under the gentle guidance of Ray's delicate, haunting vocals. The first track, Be Here Now, has become my simple request to remain present in the moments of sitting on a bus, walking down the sidewalk, or cooking in the kitchen. In Can I Stay, Ray sings his vulnerable request to spend the night with his lover..."between your blissfull kisses whisper 'Darling, is this love?'" (sigh) The album ends with Ray strumming his guitar, singing "war is not the answer, the answer is within you". The song, Within You is an unpretentious call for self-exploration, and ultimately the answers are found through one thing...

Ray also does a phenomenal accoustic cover of last summer's crazy big hit "CRAZY" by Gnarles Barkely. It is not on the album, but can be found on youtube


[read] Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures (Vincent Lam). This book has received so much hype since it won the Giller Prize award in November, so I almost hestitate in putting it on the list. But it is a fantastic read, so I don't mind giving it a bit more attention.

"Bloodletting" grants us a glimpse into the intersecting lives of medical students as they deal with exams and relationships and missing body parts. Although generally taking place in clinical settings, the immerging themes stretch far beyond the woes of med-school or the "ER" to universal issues of love, loss, and the currency of the medical field... life.



[seen] Sex and the City (Season One). Nearly 10 years ago four sexy, single women stormed onto our television screens with unapologetic rants about relationships, dating, sex, and love. A collective orgasmic sigh was released across the land. I recently watched the first season again over popcorn and red wine, with many laughs and a couple of tears.

Apart from the cheesy "Carrie talks to the camera" scenes, S&TC: Season One has aged gracefully over the years. I don't know if witnessing people deal with relationships will ever grow old. There is something very comforting in seeing other people become compulsively obsessed with analysing their relationships... it sort of makes me feel, well, less alone.



[experienced] Hot Yoga. I have discovered a holistic workout that actually works for me... cardio, flexibility, and muscle strengthening. There's a great studio down the street where I have been going for the past 6 weeks to stretch myself into different positions and sweat like an Irish man in the outback.

I am trying to resist any references to being labeled a trendy "yuppie", thus shopping sprees at Lululemon will NOT happen. But what can I say? Often things become popular for very good reasons.

GroupThink(ing)

You might not even realize it, but you spend a lot of time working in teams, groups, and organizations. These are all “systems” of people that manage various tasks under common goals and purposes. In fact, you are probably in more groups then you even realize: work, family, sport, hobby, support, study, religious… the list of group types could go on and on. Social systems are a crucial and intricate part of daily life, but perhaps under-acknowledged.

Each class that you enter is a group. You and your colleagues have registered for a course, each course has a specific goal (example: to learn about basket-weaving). From there, you might even be separated into subgroups or “task groups” to tackle various projects. We all go through it and we all have group horror stories about members who sabotaged projects with power-hungry tendencies, or worse, with apathy. Often we are left dreading the next group project.

Most employment scenarios involve groups. Whether you’re the “Fry-Guy” at McGreasy’s or the head surgeon in the Emergency Room, whether you are a cog in a multi-national corporation or the leader of a grassroots community organization, chances are most of us end up in work teams, boards, or committees. We are evaluated upon our abilities to be a “team-player”, and success is rewarded to those who embody the group norms and values. Yet often we don’t share the values of our places of employment, and end up counting the days until we can give our two-weeks notice.

Furthermore, our families are groups. Whether you like your relatives or not, they are a group of people working together with a common purpose. What is this purpose? At the core it would be survival (food, shelter, water), but other key pursuits are often present, such as affection, kinship, and, on a rare occasion, intellectual and emotional growth. Yet even if we’ve had our basic needs provided, family gatherings can be disasters waiting to happen.

Sometimes the toughest aspect of groups is the lack of choice. We are often assigned to teams; frequently, group placement is random or simply by registration, leading to groups where members have conflicting goals, interests, or values. Additionally, it becomes frustrating when we are in situations where we are not heard or given space to share thoughts or emotions. It is easy to feel silenced in groups.

Unless we chose a life of solitude, which sometimes has its appeal, it is inevitable that we will be living and working in teams. Yet “group-hate” seems to be extremely real in North American culture. What makes us so distrusting to groups? Why do we find groups to be frustrating or irksome? Are groups simply a “necessary evil”?

Yes, groups are necessary. No, they don’t have to be traumatic or painful.

One solution to “group-hate” is knowledge of self. When in a group, it is important to know what your goals, expectations, and needs are within the group – are these congruent with your group members? Conflict often originates when people have incompatible desires with the interconnected members of the group. Ability to communicate becomes crucial.

Another factor in dealing with “group-hate” lies in educating oneself about the group process. Increasing evidence supports the notion that those who receiving training and learn theories about group development are less likely to experience dreaded “group-hate” syndromes (after taking courses in group-development, I can attest to this). Acquired knowledge means being able to diagnose problems, to intervene when necessary, and ultimately the power to influence what is occurring. Informing oneself is empowering oneself.

So as we hit mid-semester, and projects are in full swing, I hope that you are surviving your group experiences. They can be challenging, but they don’t have to leave scars.

At the risk of doling out unsolicited advice, I will leave you with a quote from psychiatrist and holocaust survivor Victor Frankl – “The last human freedom is to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances”. We may not have chosen the circumstances for our school, family, and work groups, but we can choose our behaviours and attitudes.

Chose wisely.

It's beautiful in the metro

If you are one of the many people that rides public transit, then you might appreciate this post by a fellow blogger...

I don't know about you, but this is a typical metro ride for me.




check out the video...


[props to puck's prattle]

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As you've noticed, I've been experimenting with some changes here at [the little spruce tree]... let me know what you think!

Let's talk about sex

So the "Sexuality Issue" was released last week with The Link. I had two articles published that were fun to tackle and educational! I love to learn about sex and the infinite ways that people experience their sexualities.

I've provided links below to read if you would like... comments are always encouraged!

I hope you find them... errr... satisfying.





Fat is not a 4-letter word

We often link our sexualities with our physiques. Different body forms appeal to different people, and there are more options out there than ice cream flavours at Baskin & Robin’s. Our society seems to value some flavours over others: why is that?

Close friends, your trusty author and 2110’s peer counseling program coordinator, Mylène St Pierre, sit down to chat about what it means to be fat and sexy, why we’re obsessed about our sizes and the challenges that fat people face when it comes to sexuality...

...keep reading


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BIG (heart) MUSCLE

It is a world that many of us are very unfamiliar with; the rules are different, the roles are changed. It’s a game of power where discomfort is often the goal and sensation the reward. Many people become uncomfortable when talking about BDSM (bondage/discipline/sadism/masochism), and the types of activities that occur, but what exactly is it?

...keep reading

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There is a light (and sometimes there is money)

This is a gem of a video created by an acquaintance in montreal. If you like it, you can check out other works at the "artist's profile" on Youtube.




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On a different note, if you have money burning in your pocket and are thinking about investing, then check out this CBC article about "Ethical Investing".

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And on a final note... "The Little Spruce Tree" has survived its first year as a rambling, under-successful blog. Thank you to those who do read loyally --- I do it for you :)

Stay tuned for the 10-year anniversary "Black Tie" event...

V-Day

This entry is dedicated to two new little unborn souls. May they grow gracefully in a world that values human beings equally.

* * * *


I recently watched the CBC series “The Greatest Canadian”. You may recall how these short documentaries on some of Canada’s Most Fabulous gripped the nerds of the nation back in the autumn of 2004. From Trudeau to Suzuki, Fredrick Banting to Terry Fox, I was humbled and inspired (and even got a little teary-eyed) by some of the “greatness” that has come from Canada.

But something was missing for me.

In the series, we had a minor amount of diversity in terms of religion, ethnicity and physical ability. We saw leadership from political, athletic, environmental and medical perspectives. But missing from the Top 10 Greatest Canadians were women.

Despite Canadian’s inability to recognize fabulous females, Canada has a history of innovative female leadership. If you have any doubts, I’ll name a few examples:

Geneticist Carrie Derick (1862-1941) fought against discrimination throughout her career, to become the first female professor in Canada, right here in Montreal.

Artist Emily Carr (1871-1945) made a monumental contribution to Canadian art through her paintings and literary works, while her appreciation for nature was unfashionable in a time of increasing industrialization. She was a woman ahead of her time.


Indigenous leader Mary John (1913-2004) of northern B.C. was a social activist and role model of integrity, strength and gentleness. She survived residential schooling to create aboriginal community programs, which aided in the preservation of Carrier language and culture.

The list could go on: Sandra Schmirler, Margaret Atwood, Andrienne Clarkson and Laura Secord have all made monumental contributions to our nation. Yet, as Canadians, we failed to recognize this when we placed our votes two years ago. Instead we voted Don Cherry into the Top 10, and consequently administered a metaphorical slap across the face to every female in this nation.

Many people will rationalize this by saying the lack of female representation was simply a reflection of the past, and these days we don’t have the same imbalances.

But really, how far have we evolved?


Gender inequity is evident in our current cultural and political systems. Music videos, the sonnets of our time, continue to objectify and exploit women. The recent wave of shows like Deal or No Deal and Show Me the Money (now thankfully extinct) are proof of equality de-evolution with women used as “sexy backdrops.” In advertising, soaps, sprays and other “feminine hygiene” products are continually marketed under the notion that a vagina is dirty and smelly. In Canadian political leadership, we still don’t have a balance of gender in Parliament or Senate.

Furthermore, the marginalized realities of transgendered individuals are symptoms of a gender dichotomy that is inflexible, a product of a patriarchic system that still exists. For some reason it continues to be an insult to refer to a male as feminine, thus implying that it is somehow substandard to be female. We still need to work to swing the pendulum back to the center.

Many may wonder how, as a male, I have an interest or even a right to vocalize my thoughts on these matters. To this, I reply with a quote from second-wave feminist Betty Friedan: “Man is not the enemy here, but the fellow victim."

As such, I am robbed by the lack of female representation in government, and wonder how international conflict and climate change would be different if women had equal access to leadership. I am sorrowed by nonsensical vulnerabilities to HIV, sexual abuse, and poverty that females experience disproportionately. And finally, I care because I am a brother, son and friend. When my loved ones are marginalized by a system that limits opportunity and development, I hurt with them.

Gender inequity leaves us all at a disadvantage.

So this V-day (February 14th), many of us will buy chocolates and flowers and pink heart-shaped Hallmark cards for our sweethearts. But what about thinking outside prescribed Valentine notions? What about taking the “flower-fund” and giving it to a local women’s shelter or gender advocacy center? Or getting tickets to a local production of Eve Ensler’s famous play “The Vagina Monologues”? Celebrate by recognizing that V-day goes beyond vaginas, and honour the contributions and leadership that women have given.

Canada, let’s learn from our failure to see greatness in its many forms. In the end, “The Greatest Canadians” will be those who fight for the rights, equalities and dignities of all.






V-day is a global movement to stop violence against girls and women. For more information visit: vday.org.

What will you do?

V-Day is coming...

Observation

Akin to the notion of "Perspective" is that of "Observation". To be able to widen our perspectives, we need to have the ability to observe our surroundings and to absorb the nuances.

I had a recent assignment to go into a foreign social space and to observe the complexities of social interaction. I was to become a human sponge.

Below is the narrative account of my experience. My chosen environment: A Catholic Church. In normal type is my concrete observation, in italics are my personal thoughts... thus an attempt to differentiate self from situation, recognizing that my perspective is a personal experience.




I enter the church late. The service began at 9:30 am, and I imagine that it is around 9:37 now. The people seem undisturbed by my tardiness, and I notice that other people trickle in after I do. I take my seat in the back; I am on the left side looking down linear pews toward the front. I am thirty or forty rows back, with only five pews behind me. I feel secure at the back, close to the door.

The church is massive, and the number of people here are not enough to fill ten percent of the available seating. The people seem randomly sprinkled towards the front, getting fewer and fewer towards the back. Many sit with their coats still on. Perhaps for a quick getaway?

Those who come alone sit in the back with me. Is there an implicit rule that the lonesome must sit at the back? Perhaps we are not lonely, but at this moment, just alone. Are they missing spouses? Lovers? Parents? Children? Those who sit in front seem to be in groups of two or three; I see grey hair and bald spots.

I take a breath and relax. My nose is filled with old wood and varnish and dust. My feet are cold from the walk. I wonder…is it the temperature in the church that keeps them chilled? The pew is firm beneath me, and stretches high to my shoulders.

At the front a young woman sings a melody in a minor key. The tension builds and then is resolved in a familiar melodic progression. It is melancholy, yet calming. Her arms sway up and down, conducting the crowd to sing with her. Yet I can’t hear anyone else sing, and I question whether the people in front are joining.

The man who is leading the service is dressed in a long green robe and glasses that hide his eyes. He begins to address the congregation en francais. Bordering on being animated, his arms raise while he speaks, as if to punctuate his phrases. I wonder what his life has been like… how and why does one become a religious leader? The congregation responds to his words when necessary; knowing when to talk, stand, or kneel, and when raise their hands to their foreheads, down to their bellies, and then from side to side.

I attempt to copy their actions but wonder if I stick out as much as I think I do.

The priest continues speaking. Do his hands ever tire of talking? The congregation sits like lawn ornaments staring at a snappy sprinkler shooting water over dry grass. I sense a tiredness in the air, yet the priest barely pauses for a breath.

But then the priest does pause; the people cross their chests, and the organ breaks the silence with a loud sorrowful song. Perhaps this is my interpretation of sorrow. I turn and see the enormous organ, high behind me. I feel small beside it’s grandeur.

Again the people kneel to pray, a child cries, the priest sings, the harmonic tension builds from the organ, and the moment is climaxed by the sudden ringing of church bells that seem to express a spiritual orgasm. Silence again.


A man and a women walk up the aisles collecting money in a round brass container, it looks like an upside down hat. I say a small prayer that I will be invisible. I have not brought money, and feel guilty for stealing observations, but giving nothing.

Now people begin to greet each other with handshakes and smiles. My heart rate increases, as I perceive a threat to my anonymity. I keep my eyes to the paper, missing the opportunity to observe the congregation, but managing to escape interaction. I feel guilt again… Am I exploiting their religious practice? Would it have hurt to say “hi”?

After the greetings, the congregation begins to move. They leave their pews and move towards the center aisle, like small creeks flowing together to form a river and moving towards the ocean. They approach the front, accept a small disk, dip it in a glass, and place it in their mouths. They cross their chests and return to a kneeling position in their pews while the young woman begins to sing again. Her voice is gentle; the word “amour” resonates amoungst the others that are sung.

The priest speaks again; this time it feels like a conclusion, which brings a sense of closure to a spiritual experience. Or was it a religious experience? What is the difference? The organ cries loudly now, releasing the people into the world. I write in frenzy, trying to absorb everything. The doors open. It is cold. The priest starts talking to individuals in the congregation. He moves closer to me. I pack up quickly and slip out, hoping that I am unnoticed.