#and I want to explore past what the American education system told me was the world and discover what it *actually* is

[iwanttobepersephone]

Me, trying to be normal whenever I talk to somebody of a different culture because I am obsessed with culture and language and nature vs nurture and all that has to do with it and I want to talk to them about their culture for forever but they're just trying to talk about their cat:

#funny #doodles #culture #culture memes #listen I grew up with such a mish mash of cultures it all combined and became the most basic thing to exist (American culture) #and now I want to explore the cultures that were thrown into this trash compactor and get to see how beautiful they are on their own #and even explore new ones that I havent had any exposure to in my life #I want to know things about people and cultures #and I want to explore past what the American education system told me was the world and discover what it *actually* is

[college-girl199328]

Vancouver Is Stolen Land. What Does That Mean for Its Residents and Visitors?

The west coast of Canada is home to a city that basks in sunlight during the summer and rains during the rest of the year. Surrounded by mountains and the rippling ocean, Vancouver is Gaia in city form. In Vancouver’s province, British Columbia, the landscape is one of rugged beauty. Such is the desireability of the area that immigrants like me flocked to this west coast for a chance at a new life. This is reminiscent of European ”settlers” over 170 years ago.

What sets Vancouver apart from other cities is how it thrives with nature on its doorstep: from the beach to mountain skiing in less than an hour. It’s a land that realtors are getting rich selling and a land that many want to be returned to its rightful inhabitants.

The city was named for George Vancouver, a British man in the Royal Navy who had previously surveyed the Pacific Northwest coast in 1792. In the early 19th century, William Van Horne, the Vice-President of Canadian Pacific Railway, decided that the company would extend its line westward from Port Moody to Vancouver. The provincial government declared that the land belonged to the crown. This hadn’t been negotiated or agreed upon with the Indigenous communities but allowed the Canadian Pacific Railway to extend.

When I first arrived in Vancouver from England, I first heard the term "stolen land" from TikTok, which served me with coverage of protests in downtown Vancouver. It became apparent that this was a land with a story to tell. As a British man now living in Vancouver, I decided it was time for me to learn what happened when the first Europeans arrived. The utopia of natural beauty.

The British educational system mostly overlooks its colonial past. I took the General Certificate of Secondary Education in history in high school and was taught about the British Empire. Instead, we focused on the World Wars, America in the 1950s, and the six wives of Henry VIII. I can only speak from my own experience, of course, but the plight of Native Americans was not on my radar until my twenties.

Moving 4,000 miles across the world isn’t done on a whim, and I consumed many a guidebook to prepare me for my move. However, during my research, I didn’t come across any Indigenous stories, and instead only came across the names of Europeans who came to Vancouver. The guidebooks did highlight some of Vancouver’s most visited locations and tourist hotspots, from Gastown to Stanley Park. In my excitement to experience the new place I was living in, I made these two places top of my list to explore.

Amongst the tourists and the trendy boutiques walks a figure in a black coat, a bowler hat atop their head, and a lantern clutched in their hand. An excited and fashionable crowd follows behind them. This figure is said to have been from the 1800s. This isn’t a ghost sighting, though ghost stories are a favorite around this part of Vancouver. This is Emmett Hanly, who leads a tour for Forbidden Vancouver.

Hanly is a member of the Métis Nation of British Columbia and identifies as non-binary. They graduated from university with a BFA in acting in 2020, and being able to be a tour guide for Forbidden Vancouver allows them to flex those skills. Forbidden Vancouver brings history alive, focusing on the people who lived on this land long before Europeans arrived.

We are touring Vancouver’s first “modern” neighborhood, Gastown. Cobblestone pavements and red brick buildings add rustic charm to an otherwise always-changing, modern city. Upon arriving in Gastown, you will smell tantalizing food from the many restaurants, sample Vancouver’s beer from Steamworks Brewery, and hear the unmistakable sound of the Gastown steam clock. This is where many people gather on the hour to film the steam billowing from the top.

“A smallpox epidemic devastated the Coast Salish people in the 1700s, long before Gastown was ever built,” Hanly told the group. Later, they found a spot on the cobbled pavement where a statue of Gassy Jack once stood proudly. “Gassy Jack married a 12-year-old girl from the Squamish nation.” Modern tourists grimace. Vancouver has history, and part of that history is ugly: when the British and Spanish colonizers arrived and assumed control of the area. And this is a history that continues to haunt and harass: In February of 2022, the statue was torn down by protesters who had a shrine to a man who violated an Indigenous child on display.

“Many people know a city that stands on unceded territory,” Hanly says once they have finished their tour. “No land treaties were ever signed between settlers and the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. With this theft of land came the erasure of culture and history.”

“I think tourism on this land should always involve some Indigenous perspective. Engaging with others and walking with them on this very land and teaching its history is one step towards a larger cultural repatriation of identity,” Hanly says.

It’s this identity that Vancouver seems to be slowly reclaiming. This is because more open and educational conversations are taking place, and steps are being made toward reconciliation. Hanly believes that by visiting Vancouver and seeing it from an Indigenous perspective, travelers are helping to support the Indigenous people living in Vancouver. “You walk away with a much deeper understanding of the importance of the history of this place and, ideally, a will to help correct the wrongs of the past.”

On the other end of town, luscious green fir trees still stand from a time when Indigenous people had control of this land. Stanley Park, on the West End of Vancouver’s downtown core, gives way to the 10-kilometer seawall. A few steps away from this part of the seawall are the Stanley Park totem poles. It’s here that Patrick Canning, who identifies as Hooyisgum Ganaaw from the Ganada clan and the house of Ksim Xsann, adopted by the Haida into the Slinglanaas clan, represents Talaysay Tours, which focuses on Indigenous history and storytelling. Stanley Park is a massive tourist attraction. It is often referred to as “the crown jewel” of Vancouver (the irony of the idiom is not lost on me) and is named after Lord Stanley, 16th Earl of Derby. Along the coastline of Stanley Park lived many First Nation peoples. Xwáx*way was one of these settlements home to hundreds of families who survived on land and marine resources. These families created homes and families over generations. It was in 1887 that city employees destroyed the homes in this settlement and evicted the residents so they could build a road.

“I don’t hold back when stating that this is stolen land,” Patrick says about his tours. “Tours from an Indigenous perspective [matter] so that people will remember that this is stolen land and will also have a better understanding of the spiritual significance of whose land we are on.”

“There are many sacred places in Stanley Park,” Patrick explains. This is about the Cathedral Trees, which were chopped down because of a fear they were endangering tourists and in danger of drying up because of colonial activity. However, this place can be likened to a church, temple, or mosque. Unfortunately, the land has yet to be recognized in that way.”

“There is a statue of Lord Stanley with his arms outstretched and a quote welcoming all people of all creeds, and at face value, that is all well and good,” Patrick says. “Lord Stanley gave that speech when colonial officials decided the land should become a park. During the construction of the road, the remains of the Coast Salish people were exhumed.”

Nearby is now known as "Deadman's Island," an area that's not open to the general public. John Morton, from Huddersfield, England, visited the island in 1862, where he discovered hundreds of red cedar boxes hanging from the upper boughs of trees. He then had black hair and bones inside. The Squamish people used this land as a tree burial ground. The island, once a sacred place for the Indigenous people who lived along the coast, now boasts Her Majesty’s Canadian Ship, Discovery, and Vancouver’s Naval Reserve Division. This is yet another site that the Musqueam First Nation wants back. These are the stories of history that often remain untold or unacknowledged. It’s why Patrick sees tourism from an Indigenous perspective as vital to the responsible tourism movement.

“Many of the tours are colonial in nature, so you will only get one side of the story,” Patrick explains. “It would be good to have the full picture." "By learning history from the other perspective, an Indigenous perspective, people may get a better idea of the world they live in.”

“Stanley Park, or as a politician and Squamish Chief Ian Campbell call it, X̱wáx̱way Park, and wish to rename it, is to me a sacred space,” Patrick continues. I was recently reading an article that discussed the return of parklands to the nations whose territories the parks reside in. "I would like to see the lands returned to the nations for stewardship and for ceremonial use.”

There are other reasons why Patrick would like to see the land returned, one of which is to help fight climate change. “Globally, Indigenous people are the only thing standing in the way of a climate catastrophe, and Indigenous communities are frequently on the frontlines defending the land and water." "With the land being under the jurisdiction of the various [First] Nations, it would give those nations the ability to steward that area in whichever way they decide is best within their communities.”

As a tourist on a tour and a new resident of the city, I wasn’t sure what I should do with this information. Acknowledging the true history of the area is only the first step toward reconciliation. But what next?

“We always appreciate it when our traditional territory is acknowledged and respected, with authentic Indigenous stories showcased throughout the destination,” Keith Henry, president and CEO of the Indigenous Tourism Association of Canada, tells me. “Indigenous peoples have called these lands home for thousands of years. "We strongly encourage people to take the time to learn about the local Indigenous culture and the Indigenous history of what is now called Vancouver.”

There are best practices for that as a traveler. Visiting and traveling responsibly won’t solely fix such a complex and fraught history. But non-Indigenous people can begin to challenge our own undereducated perspectives by seeking out and listening to those who are fighting for their right to be heard.

“Seek out an Indigenous operator and Indigenous experiences as an important part of your visit,” advises Henry. One way you might want to do that is to visit the Destination Indigenous website, which was created to assist visitors in planning their trips.

To fix the injustices of the present and make way for a more equitable and just future, we must first understand the past. We, non-Indigenous residents and travelers, may need to face what we may have been unwittingly (or willfully) ignoring. As you plan your visit to Vancouver, consider how you might be able to play a part in righting the wrongs of the past and how you can travel consciously. Acknowledging the origins of the land we live on, travel on, and experience is the start of the process. There is more work for non-Indigenous people to do.

[kemetic-dreams]

In my research I learned that the word comes from tribus in Latin. Its earliest usage was in the time of the Roman empire where there were three original tribes, but more were added to organize the voting system.  At first, tribe may have been related to ethnicity, but as more were added, it became about geographical location, rather than kinship.   Tribe was a territorial voting unit in the Roman state. I've seen the word used to talk about Celtic and Germanic histories. It also became associated with the Hebrew people of the Torah and Bible. You must have heard of the 12 Tribes of Israel. The connotations evolved, and the problems with it began when it got into the hands of anthropologists. (Ironically, I have a degree in anthropology and I think it's a fascinating discipline; Good thing my favorite anthro professor back in my university days wisely recommended that we understand the controversies around the term.)

Truth be told, it offends many people. Here's why:

#1 For European missionaries and explorers who went out to conquer people, the word "tribal" was synonymous to "savage" and "primitive." It's mainstream connotation is rooted in colonial-era racist ideology. The word immediately conjures stereotypical imagery of brown people with bones in their noses or naked warriors running around in a rainforest

That “tribal” word

by

Chika Oduah

I cringe whenever I see that word in a news article. And I see it so often in journalese. Stories about developing countries often feature phrases like tribal healer, tribal land, tribal conflict, tribesmen, tribal chief, tribal wear, tribal name, tribal rhythm. The word is so problematic, I don't even know where to begin. I will suggest this - get some education on its history.

The Myth of the Noble Savage

The word plays into a historic imagination that classifies indigenous people outside of Europe into two categories of savages: the noble savage and the brutal savage. That leads me to number two.

The bottom-line problem with the idea of tribe is that it is intellectually lazy.

#2 Societies are constantly changing. No matter where you go, you're bound to see it. Technology, the spread of ideas, education, globalization, all of these elements contribute to sociocultural changes. But the word "tribal" freezes societies in a primordial past (real or imagined) where people wore animal skins and ran with wolves. I think it's hard for many people in the Western world to accept that societies in Africa (in other developing regions around the world) are dynamic. It's hard for some to grasp concepts of modernity in such places.   Even the most remote, far flung communities are not the same today as they were just 20 years ago.

The tribe, a long respected category of analysis in anthropology, has recently been the object of some scrutiny by anthropologists ... Doubts about the utility of the tribe as an analytical category have almost certainly arisen out of the rapid involvement of peoples, even in the remotest parts of the globe, in political, economic and sometimes direct social relationship with industrial nations. The doubts, however, are based ultimately on the definition and meaning which different scholars give to the term 'tribe', its adjective 'tribal', and its abstract form 'tribalism' ~ Dr. James Clyde Mitchell

Westerners have romanticized certain ethnic groups, like the Maasai in eastern Africa, because they have this romantic idea that the Maasai people are living the exact same way as their ancestors did. Untouched by modernity. But that's simply not true. And where does this desperate need to have ethnic groups permanently living in primordial or precolonial states come from? Is the "primitive," noble savage look more marketable for tourism? That leads me to number three.

#3 The relentless attempt to cast Africans are primitive, unchanging people relates to another popular notion that the past, when there was no internet, airplanes or sliced bread, was more peaceful, more pure and less complicated than modern times. The problem with that is that it pushes an identity (based on a misconstrued premise) on other people. It's someone from the West saying I want the kind of African who lives in a thatch-roofed hut in a village in Niamey, not the African who lives in a  brick home in a Harare suburb.  Africans are constantly being defined by the Western world, submitting to the names and descriptions put upon them. In my favorite work by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Half of a Yellow Sun, the character Odenigbo says, "But my point is that the only authentic identity for the African is the tribe...I am Nigerian because a white man created Nigeria and gave me that identity. I am black because the white man constructed black to be as different as possible from his white. But I was Igbo before the white man came.” (I'll talk about Africans using the word tribe further down!).

In the Americas, Africa, Australia, and elsewhere, colonial administrators applied these terms [tribe and band] to specific groups almost immediately upon contact. ~Encyclopedia Brittanica

#4 The word "tribal" distorts reality because it leads to misguided ideas of what is authentic and what is not. This is when a Westerner, looking at a picture of expensive cars parked at a chic hotel in Accra, says "this is not the real Africa." I hear the comment very often because there's this prevailing perception that the real Africa is "tribal." Its stick, bones, dirt and chiefs draped in leopard print. Anything outside of that, according to that line of thought, has been touched (contaminated, even) by the Western world, therefore is inauthentic. Again, it's that insistence on denying dynamism, that change happens. And that prerequisite applies to people, too. The African woman who graduated from Harvard Business School, works as a bank executive and wears Chanel suits is not a real African. The woman chopping firewood with a naked baby on her back is and gets bonus points for authenticity if the child has flies swarming around the face.

Over to You, Is the Word 'Tribe' Offensive? - BBC World Service

#4 For peoples who experienced oppression, suppression or marginalization from European colonizers or their descendants, the word "tribe" triggers memories of a traumatic past.  This is especially true of Native Americans, also called the First Nations. (I remember learning about the Trail of Tears in elementary school and feeling quite sad about it.)  Thousands of Native Americans were brutally uprooted from their ancestral lands when Europeans and their descendants decided to forcibly expand their presence in the Americas. Today, the U.S. government still officially uses the word "tribes" to refer to Native Americans, but I have read that they prefer to be called "nations" or "people."

#5 There's also this thing with numbers. British anthropologist and evolutionary psychologist Robin Dunbar, originator of the Dunbar's number theory, said that 500 - 1,500 people (who follow their ancestral culture, beliefs of unity, laws, and rights; are self-sufficient and have strong emotion towards their lands) can be classified as a one tribe. Those are pretty much the same numbers that other nineteenth century anthropologists used, defining a tribe as a human society made up of several bands. A band was a small, egalitarian, kin-based group of perhaps 10–50 people. So when you're looking at the large ethnic groups in Africa today, some numbering millions, they can't be described as tribes.

Tribe has no coherent meaning. What is a tribe? The Zulu in South Africa, whose name and common identity was forged by the creation of a powerful state less than two centuries ago, and who are a bigger group than French Canadians, are called a tribe. So are the !Kung hunter-gatherers of Botswana and Namibia, who number in the hundreds. The term is applied to Kenya's Maasai herders and Kikuyu farmers, and to members of these groups in cities and towns when they go there to live and work.

Tribe is used for millions of Yoruba in Nigeria and Benin, who share a language but have an eight-hundred year history of multiple and sometimes warring city-states, and of religious diversity even within the same extended families. Tribe is used for Hutu and Tutsi in the central African countries of Rwanda and Burundi. Yet the two societies (and regions within them) have different histories. And in each one, Hutu and Tutsi lived interspersed in the same territory. They spoke the same language, married each other, and shared virtually all aspects of culture. At no point in history could the distinction be defined by distinct territories, one of the key assumptions built into "tribe." ~Pambazuka News

Zambia is slightly larger than Texas. The country has approximately 10 million inhabitants and a rich cultural diversity. English is the official language, but Zambia also boasts 73 different indigenous languages. While there are many indigenous Zambian words that translate into "nation," "people," "clan," "language," "foreigner," "village" or "community," there are none that easily translate into "tribe." Sorting Zambians into a fixed number of "tribes" was a byproduct of British colonial rule over Northern Rhodesia (as Zambia was known prior to independence in 1964).

#6 In anthropological theories of social evolution, "tribe" is lower than "civilization." After studying early cultures in Central and South America, American neo-evolutionary cultural anthropologist Elman Rogers Service devised an influential categorization scheme for the political character of human social structures: band, tribe, chiefdom and state.

A band is the smallest unit of political organization, consisting of only a few families and no formal leadership positions. Tribes have larger populations but are organized around family ties and have fluid or shifting systems of temporary leadership. Chiefdoms are large political units in which the chief, who usually is determined by heredity, holds a formal position of power. States are the most complex form of political organization and are characterized by a central government that has a monopoly over legitimate uses of physical force, a sizeable bureaucracy, a system of formal laws, and a standing military force.

With this understanding, again, many of the large ethnic groups in Africa's modern nation states cannot be called tribes.

But... a lot of Africans use "tribe" to describe themselves. The word is taught in schools across African countries, because the secular educational system was largely created by Westerners. That's the basis of the ongoing  "decolonize education" campaign in South Africa. Check this out: When Africans learn English, they are often taught that "tribe" is the term that English-speakers will recognize. But what underlying meaning in their own languages are Africans translating when they say "tribe"? In English, writers often refer to the Zulu tribe, whereas in Zulu the word for the Zulu as a group is isizwe. Zulu linguists translate isizwe as "nation" or "people." Isizwe refers both to the multi-ethnic South African nation and to ethno-national peoples that form a part of the multi-ethnic nation. When Africans use the word "tribe" in general conversation, they do not draw on the negative connotations of primitivism the word has in Western countries.

But there has been a decades-long push by many African scholars and media professionals to get media outlets, textbooks and academia to stop using "tribe" and "tribal." Some have addressed their concerns to The New York Times, among other news publications.  Here's how Bill Keller, New York Times' Pulitzer Prize-winning executive editor from 2003 to 2011 responded:

"I get it. Anyone who uses the word "tribe" is a racist. [. . .] It's a tediously familiar mantra in the Western community of Africa scholars. In my experience, most Africans who live outside the comforts of academia (and who use the word "tribe" with shameless disregard for the political sensitivities of American academics) have more important concerns."

The logic here is, since the real Africans are using the word themselves, then what's the big deal? Well, for all the reasons I just presented and more. And recently we're seeing a wave of companies and organizations come out to announce that they will not longer use "tribe" and "tribal." The New York Times is now using "ethnic group" and "ethnic." (I have issues with ethnic. At a Walmart, I noticed that the aisle for hair products tailored to people of African descent was the "ethnic hair" aisle; that's literally what the sign said). These entities may have been motivated by political correctness or could be trying to save face. I don't know. I know that, what to do about the tribe/tribal word is a conversation that matters.

#african #tribe #ethnic group #ethnic #zambian #zambia #tribal #scholars #racist #zulu #amazulu #isizwe #english #linguistics #african civilization #civilization #kemetic dreams #europeans #asian #asians #european #german #germanic tribes #black #black people #white #white people #native americans #roman #roman empire

[mettaminerals]

Life Healing Energy With Crystals

For quite a long time, many individuals Healing Crystals in adornments for the shear excellence of them. Gem Healing is considered by numerous a pseudo logical elective medication strategy that utilizes stones and crystals for healing yet is an antiquated practice that traces all the way back to something like 6,000 years. The Romans utilized crystals as charms to advance great wellbeing and accommodate insurance in fight. Roman and Greek specialists blended crystals in with plant removes, warmed them, and utilized restoratively. Antiquated Egyptians accepted these stones had the ability to reestablish wellbeing, and would likewise cover their dead with a quartz gem, which they accepted would direct their adored one securely to existence in the wake of death. Chinese utilized them to advance healing, edification, and fascination of wants.

Today, healers, Shamans, and clerics use crystals for their particular healing properties. I generally had an interest with stones and crystals yet that was the extent that it at any point went, until I was acquainted with crystals and their healing capacity at a Mind, Body, and Spirit Festival. Since crystals vibrate with the energy of the earth, they can assist you with adjusting your body to the Earth's energy. With these crystals, presently you as well, may vibrate at the most noteworthy energy - Earth Energy! This is the place where the healing starts. Utilizing crystals, and tuning yourself into their energy, you are then clearing blockages inside you which will upgrade your own normal healing forces. Most don't understand, yet our bodies were intended to act naturally adjusting and normally mend themselves. In any case, as life occurs, we here and there neglect to pause and deal with ourselves so frequently, that our bodies escape sync with that healing interaction, eventually making blockages in our physical and mental bodies.

Any blockages inside your life power is the thing that causes throbs, torments, and even illness to show in the actual body. It's therefore, I presently use crystals consistently for strength in a specific region in my life, for healing that is required that day, for individual reflection and clearness, or for use in my Reiki practice to incite love and light while cleaning and clearing Chakras. Reiki, as only one elective healing methodology, in it's most straightforward interpretation is Universal Life Force. It is the act of diverting the general life energy in a specific example to mend and fit the psychological and actual body and every one of our Chakras, which gets, absorbs, and communicates physical, passionate, and profound energy coursing through our bodies. There is a clearing method I use, just as an alternate explicit precious stone for each Chakra to clear any blockages around there. This makes room for life power energy to stream to you and through you to keep the psyche, body, and soul in it's heavenly condition of amazing wellbeing. In the event that we keep our brain, body, and soul vibrating on a high recurrence of affection and healing energy, we don't permit throbs, agonies, and infection to show and get comfortable the actual body.

 This is only a short outline on Chakra healing with crystals. Every precious stone has its own novel healing property and a particular Chakra it reverberates with because of its tone. Our first Chakra, being the Root Chakra, manages establishing, and basically vibrates with and can be mended utilizing Red, Brown, or Black Crystals like Red Garnet, Hematite and Black Tourmaline. Our second Chakra, the Sacral Chakra, managing the mid-region and joy focuses, can mostly be fit with Orange Crystals, such Carnelian, Amber, and Orange Calcite. The Third Chakra, being the Solar Plexus Chakra, managing the Digestive System and individual force, reverberate with and can be mended with Yellow Crystals like Yellow Citrine, and Sunstone. The Fourth Chakra, the Heart Chakra, manages the Heart, Lungs, and Love. The Heart Chakra vibrates in a healing way with all Green or Pink crystals like Rose Quartz, Jade, or Green Aventurine. The fifth Chakra, the Throat Chakra, manages conveying, and reverberates with Blue Crystals like Blue Agate, Sodalite, or Sapphire. The 6th Chakra, the Third Eye Chakra, managing instinct and knowing, vibrates on a healing level with Violet Crystals like Amethyst, Lolite, and Flourite. The seventh Chakra, the Crown Chakra, managing the Central Nervous System and the Divine, resounds best with White or Purple Crystals like Selenite, Clear Quartz, or Amethyst.

I've actually been utilizing Crystals for my own healing for a lot, yet since starting the utilization of crystals for healing, I've had a couple of remarkable examples of overcoming adversity, some of which are important to me. The primary example of overcoming adversity is my better half who had rotator sleeve medical procedure. This, based on what I'm told by many individuals, is the most over the top agonizing a medical procedure you can have. This is most certainly an issue with a long healing time as he's just acquired around 3/4 of his movement back around there without torment so far over the most recent 5 months. At first, I would Reiki him while we were sitting and unwinding and the finish of every day. Then, at that point I brought a Carnelian ball into the image and what he disclosed to me while utilizing the healing ball was quite astonishing. The Carnelian ball brought him stunning warmth, practically like a hot stone wherever it contacted him assisting with unwinding and recuperate the muscles that had been cut off and controlled during a medical procedure, alleviating the aggravation actually like a hot stone back rub.

 The second example of overcoming adversity is likewise precious to me as it has to do with my sister. My sister Deneen has Lupus, which is basically a provocative sickness where your body's resistant framework assaults its own tissue and organs. From what I hear and own her going, it is an extremely excruciating sickness and specialists simply toss various meds at it as an experimentation thing until they discover a medication that works. All things considered, she's as yet in a phase of her infection of not knowing what medicine works in aiding the aggravation which she bears each day. I've done Reiki healing on her various occasions in the past which has facilitated the aggravation barely enough to bring some relief, yet it wasn't until I begun Crystal Healing Therapy, that she's had supported help from the aggravation. I utilized different various Crystals to Cleanse and Clear her Chakra's, yet I additionally requested that she wear a Reiki Charged Hematite wristband for a couple of hours daily. It's been half a month and she's accounted for not having had a truly downright terrible day since.

My third example of overcoming adversity in only a couple of brief weeks has to do with somebody that has degenerative plate sickness which is torment in the lower back or neck because of a compromised circle in the spine. While there is a marginally hereditary reason to this infection, it's fundamentally brought about by normal mileage or some kind of injury to the body. With this kind of illness, there is ordinarily a steady, generally a slight benchmark torment. It likewise includes gentle to serious scenes of back or neck torment that by and large could endure anyplace from a couple of days to a couple of months and can be weakening during that time, prior to getting the individual once again to what they think about their standard in the aggravation division. Rachael had been languishing over numerous years with degenerative circle sickness when she came to me. I assisted her with the healing energy of Reiki and a Carnelian ball, which I used to treat lower back issues. After those two things, I utilized Hematite on her which, for her purposes, resembled the Belle of the Ball. When the Hematite stones connected with the skin on her lower back, she announced a dissolving of the aggravation very quickly and remained however long the Hematite remained on her back. I then, at that point educated her to proceed with this training all alone while she was not with me and to purge the Hematite with a Selenite stone so the entirety of the cynicism and poisons the Hematite assimilated from her, would be cleared prior to returning them to her lower back once more.

So regardless of the reported healing gem utilization of a considerable lot of our progenitors, some actually ruin the utilization of these stones alongside different types of elective medication. There are very few examinations to demonstrate or even refute the force of elective types of medications, for example, gem healing, needle therapy, Reiki, or even yoga as healing for the psyche, body and soul. This doesn't imply that these healing practices aren't viable. It simply implies that cash isn't being spent on what some consider to be "New Age" healing; that equivalent healing therapy that is really healing ancient. Likewise, regardless of the absence of exploration for these kinds of healing techniques, still around 33% of Americans utilize these or different types of elective medication. It is not necessarily the case that Crystal Healing Therapy is a fix all. You should in any case look for the assistance and clinical consideration from your PCPs, yet as you can see from these three totally different issues and infections from the above cases, Crystal Healing Stones really serve to enhance all endeavors of healing; regardless of whether you have enthusiastic injuries, explicit actual ailment, or basically need to build your energy levels, you can utilize crystals to vibrate with similar frequencies of earths energy and once again initiate your body's own personal healing capacities!

https://www.mettaminerals.com/

#Healing Crystals

[correspondencearchive]

2. Natalia Nakazawa & Nazanin Noroozi

Natalia Nakazawa and Nazanin Noroozi discuss their use of archives and photographs, creating hybrid narratives, cultural transmission, and the formation of personal and cultural memories.

Natalia Nakazawa, Obtrait I, Jacquard woven textile, 71 x 53 inches, 2015, Photo credit: Jeanette May

Natalia Nakazawa: First off, Naz, how are you doing? There has been so much going on - it is far too easy to forget we have bodies. We have families, we have things we need to do, and we need to take care of ourselves. As they say, put the oxygen mask on first, and then help others. Can you maybe start by just telling us what your day looks like? What are you doing to take care of yourself?

Nazanin Noroozi: I’m doing ok. I have to balance my day job and my studio time. My day job is working in high-end interior design firms in which our clients spend millions and millions of $$$ on luxury goods. It is very interesting to look at the wage gap especially considering the pandemic. When someone can spend 40k on a coffee table for their vacation house, and you hear all the issues with the stimulus checks etc, it makes you wonder about our value system and how our society functions.

As for self-care, I guess just like any other artist, I buy tons of art supplies that I may or may not need! I just bought a heavy-duty industrial paper cutter that can cut a really thick stack of paper! I needed it! I really don't have room for it, but I bought it! So that is my method of self-care! Treat myself to things that I like but may be problematic in the future. ;)

Natalia: I recently re-watched Stephanie Syjuco’s Art21 feature online where she talks about having to actively decide to become a citizen of the US, despite having come to this country at the age of 3. One of the poignant points she brings up is how we are all reckoning right now with what it means to be “American”. She also brings up the iconic photo taken by Dorothea Lange  of a large sign reading “I am an American” put up by a Japanese American in Oakland right after the declaration of internment - thinking about how citizenship can be given or taken away. This all feels very relevant right now. What do you think about these questions? How do you use archives and photos of our past to engage in these issues of belonging, citizenship, and the precarity of it all?

Nazanin: What I try to do with archives is to question them as modes of cultural transmission and historical memory. I think many artists deal with archives in a more clinical and objective manner, whereas I like to add my own agency to these found photographs. When one looks at a family album or found footage, one is already looking at fragmented narratives. You never know a whole story when you look at your friend’s old family albums. I truly embrace this fragmented, broken narrative and try to make it my own. I also constantly move back and forth between still and moving images, printmaking and painting, experimental films and artist books. So there is this hybridity in the nature of found footage itself that I try to activate in my work. In these works handmade cinema is used as a medium to re-create an already broken narrative told by others, sometimes complete strangers to tell stories about trauma and displacement. That is what fascinates me about archives. The fact that you can recreate your story and make a new fictional alt-reality.

Nazanin Noroozi, Self Portrait

Natalia: But who is to say these if fictional alt-realities are less important or less serious than purely “art historical” narratives? One of the things that I am exploring in my work is giving space for slippages in memory, rearranging of timelines to accommodate a lived experience. What happens when we look at collections - even museum collections - with the same warmth, tenderness, and care that we would an old friend? What possibilities are dislodged there? What benefit is there to towing the status quo - which is built on white supremacy, stolen artifacts, and other types of lying, exclusion and dubious authoritative storytelling? Also, there are so many family histories that often become reified - being told and retold with certainty over and over again. How do we claim agency from that oppressive knowledge? The things we tell ourselves about our families may not be “true” so what do we risk by revisiting our archives and re-telling those histories through our current eyes? When we re-examine the history - we may discover new ways of seeing and being with ourselves.

Nazanin: I like to think of photographs as sites of refuge. When you look at a photograph of a kid’s birthday from many years ago, you know for fact that this joyous moment is long gone. These mundane moments that bring you “happiness” and security won't last. It’s like “all that is solid melts into air”. In a larger picture, isn't everything in life fragile and fleeting and there is absolutely no certainty in life?  For example, look at how Covid has changed our “normal everyday” life. A simple birthday party for your kid was unimaginable for months. In “Purl” and “Elite 1984”  I mix these mundane moments with images of flood, natural disasters and other forces of nature to talk about fragile states of being and ideas of home. I digitally and manually manipulate footages of a stormy Caspain Sea, Mount Damavand or a glacier melt to ask my questions about failure or resistance, you know? I let the images tell me the new narrative, both visually and thematically.  

Something I find really interesting in your work is how you re-create these alt-realities by actively and physically engaging your audience into participating in your work, like your textile maps - called Our Stories of Migration? Do you have any fear that they may tell a story you don't like? Or take your work to a place that you didn't anticipate? How do you deal with an open-ended artwork that is finished but it needs an audience to be complete?

Natalia Nakazawa, Our Stories of Migration, Jaquard woven textiles, hand embroidery, shisha mirrors, beetle wings, beads, yarn, 36 x 16 feet, 2020, Photo credit: Vanessa Albury

Natalia: I am always stunned by the generosity of the people I meet - those who dive in and share their own histories - and I think it points to a universal need of ours to share and connect. There is always potential to create intimacy - even within the walls of large institutions, such as schools or museums - when our own lives are placed at the center with care and concern. I’ve never heard a story that didn’t make me pause and grant me more space for contemplating the complexity of being a human on this planet. We have all kinds of mechanisms for memory - archives, written diaries, photos, paintings, objects - but at the end of the day they are nothing without our active participation. Quite literally they are meaningless unless they are being interacted with. That has been the entry point for me, as an artist and educator. How do we take all of these things that exist in the material world and make sense out of them? What does the process of “making sense” do to the way we live TODAY? Or, perhaps, how we envision the future? It is almost like a yoga practice, a stretching of the mind, a flexibility to think backwards and forwards - that lends us more space to consider the present.

Nazanin: Yeah! I think you really are on point here! I think we really can't understand our existence without retelling the history and recreating new realities.

Nazanin Noroozi, The Rip Tide

Natalia: Thank you, Nazanin! Anything coming up for you that you want to mention?

Nazanin: Yes, I am actually doing a really amazing residency at Westbeth for a year. This is an incredible opportunity as I get to live in the Village for one year and have a live-work space in such an amazing place. Westbeth is home to many wonderful artists!

Natalia Nakazawa, History has failed us...but no matter, Jacquard textiles, laser cut Arches watercolor paper, vinyl, jewels, concentrated watercolor and acrylic on wood panel, 40 x 90 inches, 2019, Photo credit: Jeanette May

Natalia Nakazawa is a Queens-based interdisciplinary artist working across the mediums of painting, textiles, and social practice. Utilizing strategies drawn from a range of experiences in the fields of education, arts administration, and community activism, Natalia negotiates spaces between institutions and individuals, often inviting participation and collective imagining. Natalia received her MFA in studio practice from California College of the Arts, a MSEd from Queens College, and a BFA in painting from the Rhode Island School of Design. She has recently presented work at the Arlington Arts Center (Washington, DC), Transmitter Gallery (Brooklyn, NY), Wassaic Project (Wassaic, NY), Museum of Arts and Design (New York, NY), and The Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, NY). Natalia was an artist in residence at MASS MoCA, SPACE on Ryder Farm, The Children’s Museum of Manhattan, Wassaic Project, and Triangle Arts.

www.natalianakazawa.com @nakazawastudio

Nazanin Noroozi is a multimedia artist incorporating moving images, printmaking and alternative photography processes to reflect on notions of collective memory, displacement and fragility. Noroozi’s work has been widely exhibited in both Iran and the United States, including the Immigrant Artist Biennial, Noyes Museum of Art, NY Live Arts, Prizm Art Fair, and Columbia University. She is the recipient of awards and fellowships from the Artistic Freedom Initiative, Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts, NYFA IAP 2018, Mass MoCA Residency, North Adams, MA and Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts Residency, NY. She is an editor at large of Kaarnamaa, a Journal of Art History and Criticism. Noroozi completed her MFA in painting and drawing from Pratt Institute. Her works have been featured in various publications and media including BBC News Persian, Elephant Magazine, Financial Times, and Brooklyn Rail.

www.nazaninnoroozi.net @nazaninnoroozi

#natalianakazawanazaninnoroozi #natalianakazawa #nazaninnoroozi

[blkgirlsinthefuture]

Magic, Memory, and the Power of Oral Tradition

Storytelling is a matter of survival. It’s a matter of resistance – of cultural expression in the face of oppression. Storytelling, particularly within the realm of African oral tradition, is a tool that allows a sense of collectivity and cultural understanding to pass on from one generation to the next. In Sassafrass, Cypress & Indigo, by Ntozake Shange, I was struck by the way Indigo seems to serve as a vehicle for the continuation of that oral tradition, as well as the uniquely young holder of the cultural memory that lives far beyond her years. While the emphasis in mainstream narratives has been placed on the senior members of community to continue disseminating the diasporic memory onto young people, very rarely (and perhaps never) have I encountered a story that shifts this cultural responsibility onto a young Black girl. However, the way in which Shange writes Indigo to hold this cultural power, her own brand of magic, sparks my own attentiveness of how society can both better acknowledge and reinforce the power young Black women and girls have in their control over the continuation of Black oral tradition.

I can remember few times in elementary school where young people have been told to look anywhere but the future; look to who you want to become, to move past inequities and inequalities of the past because of this progressive historical narrative that has been systemically (and I’d argue oppressively) ingrained in the education system. Erasure of historical or cultural memory is something the American education thrives on to continue “forward motion” of this nation’s students; however, with every step forward comes two steps back as young students, particularly young BIPOC students, are then being deprived of the basis in which systemic inequity and inequalities have formed and the cultural memories necessary to incite societal change. The connection between what I suppose is Shange’s more literal interpretation of “Black girl magic” and the capacity to hold cultural memory at a young age is strong. Shange creates this magically realistic vision, based in the natural world, of Indigo as a “mobile sapling, with the gait of a well-loved colored woman whose lover was the horizon in any direction,” suggesting this sense of diasporic awareness far beyond her years. (1) Empowered by the breadth of the stories and girlhood memories she is bestowed by elderly members of her neighborhood, Indigo is much like this symbol of a budding tree. In order for this sapling to grow strong, she must maintain strong roots, grounded in the experiences of the Black women who came before her, allowing Indigo to create and imagine “herself [and] her world” from “all that she came from.” (1) From the imagery of the “tough, winding branches growing from her braids,” Indigo is able to develop from those and continue the cultural narrative set in her lap for her personal and, if shared, collective forward motion. Branches, especially those that are tough and winding, do not grow in a way that they are likely to be broken, swept away with the wind, or to be ripped away be a random passerby. Much like Indigo’s growing cultural awareness, she is unwilling to forget or suppress the diasporic memory of the white suppression and erasure of Black women, and the manifestations of that memory that continue in the constant battles with her sisters who were “so filled up with the white folk’s ways.” (2) As her branches continue to grow, she is able to carry the spirit of “things that mattered” with her, to continue on the oral tradition so vital for the continual survival of the Black community.

As a future educator, I plan on carrying Shange’s imagery of the tree with me for my future students, and I hope we can hold true to the same in our work here. Rooting our exploration of defining Black girl magic in the cultural memory that has been carried by Black women for hundreds of years allows for the branches of our discussion to be stronger. It allows our willful and determined exposure to the voices of Black women presently to be motivated by the past and continual erasure of the same. The purpose of this course is to finally give weight to the voices of Black women and girls that have been attempted to be swept away, broken, or ripped away from academia and the mainstreamed Black cultural narrative for far too long. Throughout our time together, I look forward to the conversations we have about the roots and experiences of Black woman and girlhood, the active listening that will take place, and the past due attention paid to experiences of cultural memory as an agent of resistance and change that will result from our own way of continuing this oral tradition.

-- Lauren Forsythe

[thinktosee]

INSTITUTIONAL HATE CRIME – A NARROW DEFINITION OF GENDER AND MORALITY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES TO THE LGBTQ COMMUNITY

Image courtesy Amnestyusa.org

“When he was 16 years old, he came to my room and said he wanted to talk to me. And I said, “Yeah, sure go ahead.”

“Well, I thought you should know that I’m gay,” he told me simply.

I looked at him and all I could think of was, How am I to protect him from discrimination and bullying? Yet all I could manage to say to him at this critical time was, “Well, that’s great. I’m glad you told me. We are your family and we support you.” I reached out and hugged my son.”(1)

- from David’s biography, “Walking in my Son’s footsteps. David’s fight for freedom.”

“It is possible that the law, which is clearsighted in one sense, and blind in another, might in some cases, be too severe.” (2)

- French philosopher, Montesquieu (1689-1755)

Why would a parent, upon discovering that their child is gay, feel a sense of foreboding where it concerned the child’s safety and security? And what and who caused this feeling of fear or foreboding in me?

The ancient law (1871, amended 1938) against homosexuality in Singapore and in many parts of the former British Empire, remains in force to this day. (3) Generations of citizens were and continue to be narrowly socialized to the belief that homosexuality is immoral and that homosexual or same-sex love and marriage deviate from the normative. This law levies an enormous burden onto the LGBTQ community in so far as it enables or activates societal discrimination where none existed before, foments hatred and disdain among the citizenry for same-sex relationships, and upends justice, equal rights and dignity for the LGBTQ community.

That was the basis for my fear when David shared with me that he was gay. How does one begin to address an issue which is institutional and systemic in its very foundation? The law is the problem, failing miserably to serve justice, as Montesquieu averred. This is the challenge which the LGBTQ communities throughout the world have been grappling with for centuries. It is a struggle paid in sacrificial blood, many times over. And it will go on, until a time when we acknowledge that diversity and inclusivity are mutually reinforcing. Love does not get filtered at the border because the state or religious institution says it must. It is they who have placed a limit on their love, apparently.

Global Historical Overview of homosexuality

The history of the LGBTQ communities and cultures on our planet is as colourfully and richly elongated and layered as any within the realm of human civilization. Ancient cultures such as “Indian, Chinese, Egyptian, Greek and Roman accommodate homosexuality and crossdressing among….its citizens since the earliest recorded times.” (4) Similarly, in “ancient China….same-sex sexual behaviors were well-received and tolerated. Positive descriptions of homosexual behavior, or Nan-Feng as it was called, in historical records and in Chinese literature can be dated back to the Han dynasty (206 BC–220 AD).” (5) Pre-European colonial African societies, including in what are present-day Nigeria and Uganda, were relatively inclusive in their approach to same-sex or gender relationships.(6) In the First Nations or pre-settler/colonial American societies, two spirits and multiple genders were universally embraced and accepted. (7)

These societies exhibited a keen sense of spirituality and diversity, of moderation and acceptance of LGBTQ peoples and cultures, which we in this enlightened age may find quite surprising. We should not however. Researchers have, to some degree, attached the adverse change in society’s approach to homosexuality to the onset of European colonialism (16th to 20th centuries) :  

“In the age of European exploration and empire-building, Native American, North African and Pacific Islander cultures accepting of “Two-Spirit” people or same-sex love shocked European invaders who objected to any deviation from a limited understanding of “masculine” and “feminine” roles.” (8)

- Prof. Bonny J. Morris

“Transgender histories in the United States, like the broader national histories of which they form a part, originate in colonial contact zones where members of the arriving culture encountered kinds of people it struggled to comprehend.” (9)

- Prof. Susan Stryker

Accompanying these colonial invasions, were European administrative, linguistic, religious, educational, philosophical and juridical systems, beliefs and traditions. This alien cultural web, in most part codified, either through a caste or racially-affected administrative system or via prayer book and canons, or both, had its intended effect of diminishing or worse, eviscerating the native or indigenous culture, including their ancient belief system. Displacement and assimilation of the natives to the new paradigm were achieved through these extreme mechanisms.

To understand the criminalization and persecution of LGBTQ peoples and cultures, it is necessary to appreciate the intent of colonialism – a private cum state economic model (the East India Companies, Hudson Bay Company, etc.) requiring the creation of a unified or standardized, and exclusively hierarchical system of conduct and control, onto a traditional (organized) and diverse society or culture. This is to assure the latter’s coherence to the colonial enterprise through a coercive (violent), and extensive system of natural resource allocation and exploitation. Genocide and slavery were among its most extreme and tragic manifestations. Modern colonialism, depicted by European conquests across the planet, is arguably the first attempt in recent memory, to creating a unitary world – standardization of laws and governing institutions to address the complex administrative challenges inherent in diverse cultures and norms within the European empire. Diversity of cultures, thought and behaviours were among the first victims. The histories of the First Nations’ societies in the Americas and Australia serve as prime and tragic examples. (10), (11) It should also be stressed that European colonialism, in the context of this essay, includes 20th century Soviet and China-style communism, where an alien and totalitarian ideology was coercively employed across the Eastern European and Central and East Asian landmass, to suppress the local or indigenous peoples, their cultures and beliefs, in furtherance of a unitary political, economic and social order. Not surprisingly, the Soviet Union were also at the forefront of research into medical and psychotherapeutic or “corrective” procedures for homosexuality.(12)

The history and dignity of the LGBTQ peoples are inextricably linked to the plight of the indigenous communities, as they struggled from the 16th to 20th centuries against European-sourced colonialism. While almost every former European colony is considered an independent state today, the laws against same-sex relations and marriage remain on the statutes in many of these domains. Societal attitudes have no doubt evolved over the years, and consistent with the growing awareness of LGBTQ culture and social justice movements. A factor which appears to be holding the state back is the feeling that society is not ready to accept equal rights for the LGBTQ community. (13)  That being the case, what are we doing to prepare society for a future which recognizes and confers equal rights to the LGBTQ community, as we would any other citizen or community? Or as this Time Magazine article headlined :

“Homophobia Is Not an Asian Value. It’s Time for the East to Reconnect to its Own Traditions of Tolerance.” (14)

In Singapore’s context, what are we, as a society doing to :

- learn more about LGBTQ rights, discrimination and culture?

- what are the public education system and mass media doing about this?

- why are foreign-owned businesses prevented from sponsoring LGBTQ festivals and gatherings? How does this play out in terms of encouraging or dissuading local businesses to lend their support?

- learn of the discrimination against LGBTQ people in terms of equal access to public housing, employment, marriage and mental health care?

These are just a few questions which society should address constructively.

Years from now, when equal rights for the LGBTQ community have come to pass in most parts of the world, historians will look back and perhaps conclude that the community was subjected to a prolonged and systematic campaign of hate, which was originated and sustained by the state, and in some domains, performed in concert with religious figures/institutions.

“David was gay. He cared deeply about the rights of LGBTQ people everywhere. He attended the annual Pink Dot event since 2013. He felt discrimination in any form, especially through the law, was nothing short of Bullying. This included Singapore’s Penal Code Section 377A, criminalizing all gay persons…..David felt strongly that overcoming discrimination requires an unwavering commitment to free speech. He would never compromise….” (15)

- “Walking In My Son’s footsteps. David’s fight for freedom.”

Sources/References

1. Singh, Harmohan. “Walking in my son’s footsteps. David’s fight for freedom.” p68. Thinktosee Press, 2020

2. Montesquieu. “The Spirit of Laws.” Book IX, Chap 6. Originally published in 1748.

3. Radics, George Baylon. “Section 377a in Singapore and the (De)Criminalization of Homosexuality.” p3.  National University of Singapore. 2015

4. Wilhelm, Amara Das. “Tritiya-Prakriti : The People of the Third Sex: Understanding Homosexuality, Transgender Identity and Intersex Conditions Through Hinduism.” p68. Xlibris Corporation, 2010.

5. Zhang, Yuxin. “China’s misunderstood history of Gay tolerance.” The Diplomat. June 22, 2015

6. Alimi, Bisi. “If you say being gay is not African, you don’t know your history.” The Guardian. Sep 9, 2015

7. Davis-Young, Katherine. “For Many Native Americans, embracing LGBT members is a return to the past.” The Washington Post. Mar 30, 2019

8. Morris, Bonny J. “History of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Social Movements.” American Psychological Association

History of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Social Movements (apa.org)

9. Stryker, Susan. “Transgender History in the United States and the Places that Matter.” A Theme Study of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer History. National Park Service, Dept of the Interior. 2016

10. Holocaust Museum Houston, “Genocide of Indigenous Peoples.”

HMH | Genocide of Indigenous Peoples

11. The Guardian, “The killing times : the massacres of Aboriginal People Australia must confront.” Mar 3, 2019

12. Alexander, Rustam. ”Homosexuality in USSR (1956-1982).” p173. University of Melbourne. 2018

13. Velasquez, Tony. “Keeping it straight. PM says Singapore not ready for gay marriage.” ABS-CBN News, June 27, 2015.

14. Wong, Brian. “Homophobia Is Not an Asian Value. It’s Time for the East to Reconnect to its Own Traditions of Tolerance.” Time Magazine, Dec 17, 2020.

15. Singh, Harmohan. “Walking in my son’s footsteps. David’s fight for freedom.” P130. Thinktosee Press, 2020

[humansofhds]

Amber Scorah, MTS ′22

“I no longer feel zealous for a religion, but rather for the beautiful treasure that this life is, and the incredible fact that any of us are here. I am just trying to use this life in the most meaningful way I can, not just to create meaning for myself, but also for others.”

Amber is a first-year master of theological studies candidate studying religion, ethics and politics.

Earliest memories

I remember fear mostly, because the Jehovah's Witnesses believe that the end of the world is coming any day and have been preaching this for over 100 years. Our children’s Bible story books had violent images of people being massacred by “God,” and I think it made me into a little bit of a dark child—a child that was thinking about things that other children probably weren't thinking about. Since I didn't celebrate birthdays, Christmas or do activities that my peers did, I felt this sense of being an outsider in the world. Therefore, I can’t extract my childhood memories without the religion looming large.

Beyond that, I have had such a weird history that I don't know which part of it to focus on. I'm Canadian originally, but a new American now. I was born as a third-generation Jehovah's Witness, and was a member of the religion all the way up until I became a missionary in China. When I was in Shanghai preaching, I ended up waking up to the fact that my religion wasn't everything that I had been taught it was. It came to a point that I no longer felt I could morally be a part of the Jehovah’s Witness organization, so I left my post, moved to New York City, a place I had only been once before, and started a whole new life from scratch. I now am an author and work in media activism.

Where have you been all your life?

Part of being raised a Jehovah's Witness is that you're told not to get a career. You're taught that if you have any talents or abilities, you shouldn't pursue them because all of your time should be used to preach and convert people. So, whenever my talents surfaced, or educational opportunities arose, I did not pursue them. By the time I left the religion, I was in my early 30s and didn't think I could do anything because I had only ever preached and worked part time. However, when I moved to New York, everyone that I would tell this story of my life to—the underground preaching, living in China, etc. —would say "This is crazy. You should write a book about this." Enough people said that to me that I thought, "Maybe I should just write down the story.”

I did end up writing the story and it got published, which was a shock to me. (See book publisher page here.) It was also terrifying, because it meant that I was coming out publicly as someone who did not believe in the Jehovah's Witnesses anymore and would be branded by my family and friends as an “apostate” and shunned.

But during the process of writing, something happened that I didn't realize would happen. I was able to revisit the past in a way that stitched it together and brought it into my present. Writing a memoir let me revisit in my memories—all these people that I missed and loved but would no longer talk to me. It helped me to make sense of it all and to just understand for myself: “What does it mean to lose everything and to start over?”  

I have had to come to terms with my mortality because the Jehovah's Witnesses believe that once you survive this apocalypse, you will go on to live forever. After my departure, facing death was existentially difficult. Figuring out what I thought about God or the meaning of life was something I had to deal with. When every question you might ever have about life is answered in a specific belief system, and then you find out that the very foundation of that belief system is not true, then you have to figure out what the truth is.

I have also struggled with feeling behind in life. Everyone else my age had already gone to college, had a career, some of them were already having kids. And here I was, ejected into this world, where I didn't have a college degree, a career, friends or family. I was afraid that whenever I would go on a job interview, they would look at my resume and think; "What's wrong with you? Where have you been all your life?"

Unlearning, and re-learning religion

When I first left my religion, I hated religion and had no interest in it. I had a religion hangover because my religion was so all-encompassing and had overtaken my identity. But even though I felt repulsed by religion, I could never feel like an atheist.

As time goes by, those questions of meaning are still with me, just as they have always been, even as a child. I love this idea of approaching religion not as a religious person, but as a person seeking to understand what it is that makes us create religions, or to be part of religions, or what gives rise to all different kinds of religions. I am interested in answering those questions not through a holy book, but through eons of human experience and exploration. It was this quest that brought me to Divinity school.

Since classes started, my mind has been blown. It's really addictive, actually. Being here is like having a mirror that shows me what I’m interested in, and what I have to give the world. I am a little bit of an activist at heart and have a really strong sense of wanting to take action when I see a wrong that needs to be righted. I feel happy to no longer be an outsider, and to be able to find ways to do that.

Walking through unimaginable loss

In 2015 I had a baby boy. Karl died as an infant, on his first day in childcare. It was a horrific tragedy, and one which I believe firmly could have been prevented if America, like most developed countries in the world, had a national paid parental leave program. If I had not had to go back to work so early or be faced with losing my job and my health care, he probably would not have died. One in four women in America have to leave their babies at two weeks old. I was one of the lucky ones, in a way, because I had three months.

After Karl’s death, I became an activist for parental leave and joined forces with another mom who had lost her child in a similar way. I wrote an article that went viral in the New York Times and this campaign reached the 2016 Presidential election campaign and led to meetings with the Clinton campaign. Shortly after our campaign New York State passed a paid family leave bill.  

I am also now a co-partner in a company that does media activism, where we bring untold stories of people who don't normally get heard from to the media. I used to check out and think that God would solve all problems, but I now realize that we all have a personal responsibility to do what we can to make things better.

On the horizon

I want to write a book about the struggle to find a sense of morality after leaving a religion that is so all-encompassing; Having had my morality dictated to me for so much of my life by religious leaders, I now find that I question everything that others take for granted. I am very curious about ethics and morals that aren’t grounded on religious beliefs.

Another thing I want to pursue, which I hope that my time at Harvard will help with, is more media activism. Going to Harvard connects you to a world where you can have a greater impact, since you will be broadening the subjects you are versed in and learning from other students who come from all different backgrounds.

While on my journey here, I carry with me my late Father, and the rest of my family members who are still Jehovah's Witnesses. I also think often about the many people I know who got out of religions like mine and those who committed suicide after they were shunned. I carry their stories here too, because not all of them get to go to Harvard. Now that I know we are mortal beings and this life appears to be all we get; I feel this zeal for living a rich life. A life that not only intellectually expands my world, but also gives me the tools that I can use to lift other people up. I no longer feel zealous for a religion, but rather for the beautiful treasure that this life is, and the incredible fact that any of us are here. I am just trying to use this life in the most meaningful way I can, not just to create meaning for myself, but also for others.

Interview by Suzannah Omonuk

#Harvard #harvard divinity school #memoir #book #Religion #media #publishing #advocacy #loss #large

[pfenniged]

Hi! I’ve been following you for a lil lil bit, but already you seem super smart and knowledgeable so.. what are some books or other pieces of writing you think everyone should read? Have a lovely day!

B’aww, thank you! <3 You too nonnie! <3

Just off the top of my head at three o’clock in the morning, and the qualification that you provided that its something that ‘everyone should read,’ I’m going to go for more books that I found changed me fundamentally, as a person, after reading them. That may be a self-help book; that might be a societal critique, that might be a work of classic literature. I tried to give a bit of everything. <3

 I’ll put a little copy-and-paste synopsis here for you for each book, and will elaborate if necessary in brackets. 

BEHOLD: LAUREN’S LIST OF LITERARY RECOMMENDATIONS:

From My (Non-Law) Bookcase (But still are about political issues):

Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women’s Anger by Soraya Chemaly: 

‘As women, we’ve been urged for so long to bottle up our anger, letting it corrode our bodies and minds in ways we don’t even realize. Yet there are so, so many legitimate reasons for us to feel angry, ranging from blatant, horrifying acts of misogyny to the subtle drip, drip drip of daily sexism that reinforces the absurdly damaging gender norms of our society. In Rage Becomes Her, Soraya Chemaly argues that our anger is not only justified, it is also an active part of the solution. We are so often encouraged to resist our rage or punished for justifiably expressing it, yet how many remarkable achievements would never have gotten off the ground without the kernel of anger that fueled them? Approached with conscious intention, anger is a vital instrument, a radar for injustice and a catalyst for change. On the flip side, the societal and cultural belittlement of our anger is a cunning way of limiting and controlling our power—one we can no longer abide.’

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education by Jay T. Dolmage:

‘Academic Ableism brings together disability studies and institutional critique to recognize the ways that disability is composed in and by higher education, and rewrites the spaces, times, and economies of disability in higher education to place disability front and center. For too long, argues Jay Timothy Dolmage, disability has been constructed as the antithesis of higher education, often positioned as a distraction, a drain, a problem to be solved. The ethic of higher education encourages students and teachers alike to accentuate ability, valorize perfection, and stigmatize anything that hints at intellectual, mental, or physical weakness, even as we gesture toward the value of diversity and innovation. Examining everything from campus accommodation processes, to architecture, to popular films about college life, Dolmage argues that disability is central to higher education, and that building more inclusive schools allows better education for all.’

(This book strays into more academic categories, but it’s still really great that this sort of book is being written. I personally recognise its value as someone with mental health struggles and who has had to fight ironically in the legal sphere for myself in terms of finding support within my own career moving forward as a lawyer/legal academic. I think the fact that the narrative that disabilities are seen as the antithesis of secondary education despite claims of diversity is something that all university students need to guard themselves against, or at least educate themselves on, in order to work against some systems that even though they espouse equality, might not have their best interests at heart. 

I’ve ironically found this especially terrible in law, where my first term of law school I was told ‘girls like you don’t go to law school,’ followed by constant questioning by the community at large after graduate that any hint of mental weakness equates to being unfit to practice law. This is despite the majority of lawyers having mental health problems, if not full blown addictions. It’s honestly why I’m pivoting back to academia (law prof), or moving to practice for the government (which enforces union restrictions on how long a lawyer can actually work, where firms just actually work them to death without union protections ironically; ugh. My whole point is, I’m not ashamed of having mental health problems in a field largely categorised by achievements in secondary education. I feel no reason to hide it, even though people tell me to. If someone is ashamed of me over something I had no control over developing, then I probably don’t want to be involved with them, do I? (A good method I recommend; it may cut off some superficial ‘friends’/’opportunities,’ but it leads to those who truly understand what a mental health disability may entail, and how strong you are for overcoming it).

White Fragility: Why It’s so Hard to for White People to Talk about Racism by Robin DiAngelo:

The New York Times best-selling book exploring the counterproductive reactions white people have when their assumptions about race are challenged, and how these reactions maintain racial inequality.

In this “vital, necessary, and beautiful book” (Michael Eric Dyson), antiracist educator Robin DiAngelo deftly illuminates the phenomenon of white fragility and “allows us to understand racism as a practice not restricted to ‘bad people’ (Claudia Rankine). Referring to the defensive moves that white people make when challenged racially, white fragility is characterized by emotions such as anger, fear, and guilt, and by behaviors including argumentation and silence. These behaviors, in turn, function to reinstate white racial equilibrium and prevent any meaningful cross-racial dialogue. In this in-depth exploration, DiAngelo examines how white fragility develops, how it protects racial inequality, and what we can do to engage more constructively.

Two Mental Health-Related Books:

Do Nothing: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving by Celeste Headlee:

‘We work feverishly to make ourselves happy. So why are we so miserable?

Despite our constant search for new ways to optimize our bodies and minds for peak performance, human beings are working more instead of less, living harder not smarter, and becoming more lonely and anxious. We strive for the absolute best in every aspect of our lives, ignoring what we do well naturally and reaching for a bar that keeps rising higher and higher. Why do we measure our time in terms of efficiency instead of meaning? Why can’t we just take a break?

In Do Nothing, award-winning journalist Celeste Headlee illuminates a new path ahead, seeking to institute a global shift in our thinking so we can stop sabotaging our well-being, put work aside, and start living instead of doing. As it turns out, we’re searching for external solutions to an internal problem. We won’t find what we’re searching for in punishing diets, productivity apps, or the latest self-improvement schemes. Yet all is not lost - we just need to learn how to take time for ourselves, without agenda or profit, and redefine what is truly worthwhile.

Pulling together threads from history, neuroscience, social science, and even paleontology, Headlee examines long-held assumptions about time use, idleness, hard work, and even our ultimate goals. Her research reveals that the habits we cling to are doing us harm; they developed recently in human history, which means they are habits that can, and must, be broken. It’s time to reverse the trend that’s making us all sadder, sicker, and less productive, and return to a way of life that allows us to thrive.’

(I just read this book lately and I love it; it’s really follows the history of how we’ve come to this point where we can’t shut off our brains, and we see ourselves in this really puritanical, commercialist manner: How we define ourselves by how much we produce, and if we fall short of this goal by being (ironically) human, we berate ourselves for it. This really has let me shift my mentality towards a much healthier, less ‘workaholic’ mode in my COVID downtime, and really helped me move towards a healthier lifestyle in the jobs I’m searching for now that I’ve left school. Recommended for anyone taking the big leap into the full time work world).

Chained to the Desk by Bryan Robinson:

‘Americans love a hard worker. The worker who toils eighteen-hour days and eats meals on the run between appointments is usually viewed with a combination of respect and awe. But for many, this lifestyle leads to family problems, a decline in work productivity, and ultimately to physical and mental collapse. Intended for anyone touched by what Robinson calls “the best-dressed problem of the twenty-first century,” Chained to the Desk provides an inside look at workaholism’s impact on those who live and work with work addicts—partners, spouses, children, and colleagues—as well as the appropriate techniques for clinicians who treat them. Originally published in 1998, this groundbreaking book from best-selling author and widely respected family therapist Bryan E. Robinson was the first comprehensive portrait of the workaholic. In this new and fully updated third edition, Robinson draws on hundreds of case reports from his own original research and years of clinical practice. The agonies of workaholism have grown all the more challenging in a world where the computer, cell phone, and iPhone allow twenty-four-hour access to the office, even on weekends and from vacation spots. Adult children of workaholics describe their childhood pain and the lifelong legacies they still carry, and the spouses or partners of workaholics reveal the isolation and loneliness of their vacant relationships. Employers and business colleagues discuss the cost to the company when workaholism dominates the workplace. Chained to the Desk both counsels and consoles. It provides a step-by-step guide to help readers spot workaholism, understand it, and recover.’

(I also just read this one, and it’s an older book edited to a third edition, and it shows. However, it also does the important work of demonstrating how workaholics should be treated in the same category as anyone else who gets any sort of ‘high’ from something, like drugs or alcoholism. It opens with the quote (and I’m paraphrasing here), “Workaholicism is the best dressed addiction.” It’s the one we’re rewarded for constantly, not matter what mental toll it takes on us. While I’m not exactly ready to sign up for a twelve-step plan (and some of the chapters are specifically for spouses and children), it still dishes out some really good advice about feeding other areas of our lives and how to not simply focus on work.)

From My Undergraduate Degree (Classics and Double Minor in English and German Literature, with a little World Literature thrown in for good measure):

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe: 

THINGS FALL APART tells two overlapping, intertwining stories, both of which center around Okonkwo, a “strong man” of an Ibo village in Nigeria. The first of these stories traces Okonkwo's fall from grace with the tribal world in which he lives, and in its classical purity of line and economical beauty it provides us with a powerful fable about the immemorial conflict between the individual and society. The second story, which is as modern as the first is ancient, and which elevates the book to a tragic plane, concerns the clash of cultures and the destruction of Okonkwo's world through the arrival of aggressive, proselytizing European missionaries. These twin dramas are perfectly harmonized, and they are modulated by an awareness capable of encompassing at once the life of nature, human history, and the mysterious compulsions of the soul. THINGS FALL APART is the most illuminating and permanent monument we have to the modern African experience as seen from within.

(This is a classic of African Literature, and what I wrote my world literature paper on in first year. It really is a story about the affect of a fall of one culture, where Okonkwo is the prime example of what a ‘man’ may be in this society, to how this society (and African societies as a whole) are affected by European colonialism. How one man can be seen as a paradigm of perfection at one point in time, and the scourge of the earth at another, when he stubbornly holds to his ideals, no matter how flawed they may be. It’s a book I remember reading the ending of, and it’s a theme for all three of these books, and just looking down and literally letting out an, “Ooooooooh~~~~” xD That’s really my ‘tell’ of a good book. I haven’t reread it since then, but it’s always stuck with me). 

Animal Farm by George Orwell:

‘Perhaps one of the most influential allegories of the 20th century, George Orwell's Animal Farm has made its way into countless schoolrooms and libraries, and has been the inspiration of several films. Written in 1945, before Orwell's conceptually similar 1984, Animal Farm's world consists of anthropomorphized farm animals as they attempt to create an ideal society--it becomes dystopian as the flaws of the ideology seep out. Like 1984, Orwell meant for Animal Farm to represent a Communist state, and to depict its downfalls. With a message that is not soon to be forgotten, Animal Farm reminds us that "all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others."’

(It’s stereotypical and you’ve probably read it, but I still love this book to pieces and literally have an Animal Farm pin on my bag xD If you haven’t read it, read it: It also has the OhhhOOohhh~ effect xD)

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury:

‘Ray Bradbury's internationally acclaimed novel Fahrenheit 451 is a masterwork of 20th-century literature set in a bleak, dystopian future.

Guy Montag is a fireman. In his world, where television rules and literature is on the brink of extinction, firemen start fires rather than put them out. His job is to destroy the most illegal of commodities, the printed book, along with the houses in which they are hidden. Montag never questions the destruction and ruin his actions produce, returning each day to his bland life and wife, Mildred, who spends all day with her television "family". But then he meets an eccentric young neighbor, Clarisse, who introduces him to a past where people didn’t live in fear and to a present where one sees the world through the ideas in books instead of the mindless chatter of television. When Mildred attempts suicide and Clarisse suddenly disappears, Montag begins to question everything he has ever known. He starts hiding books in his home, and when his pilfering is discovered, the fireman has to run for his life.’

(What do I have to say by this point? Another Ooooh~ effect book xD)

#oh my god it's 4:21am #but I enjoyed this way too much as well xD #hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for! < #personal #anonymoose #literature #recommendations #future reference

[xenophanatic]

In Depth Analysis of ‘Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne?’

Romantic narratives usually hinge upon a love hurdle, hurdles which are the reasons the couple are not together and causes angst between them. Whether the hurdle or obstacle comes from rival families, social standing, or past actions. These stories are also seen as forbidden love. However, as years go by these particular hurdles seem trivia and writers are trying to up the ante. This gave way to new hurdles such as:

 I’m a human and you’re a vampire, werewolf, alien, robot, angel, fish or Cthulhu.

 I’m a cop, you’re a killer.

 And other questionable new hurdles of forbidden love.

 We may be siblings or related.

 I’m in love with my kidnapper

And there was a Pakistani show, Woh Aik Pak (That One Moment) in which the hero accidentally shot a guy and then leaves him for dead. He feels guilty and decided to marry dead guy’s widow and adopt their son, without her knowledge that he killed her late husband. It’s like a darker version of the American film Bounce. All these new hurdles are quite problematic. 

They are questionable as they put a romantic light on dark and real social issues - incest, abusive and manipulative relationships. So, it isn’t surprising that when I heard of the premise of a Turkish show, Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne? (What is Fatmagul’s fault?), I refused to watch it.

 The premise was told to me as such:

Fatamgul is engaged to her childhood sweetheart Mustafa and is looking forward to their marriage. One night, four young men grab her and start to play around with her. They never think that the joke will turn into a rape at first. But later, they begin to rape her, one by one. The sun of her life is shadowed after that night; it's not only Fatmagul's body which was raped, but also her life. Mustafa breaks off their engagement and even worse - in order to save the honour of her family she is forced to marry one of the rapists.

So here the hurdle which they couple have to overcome is… marrying her rapist. Oh no. 

I never really critically thought about the impact of depicting rape or sexual violence on television before. Not until I heard that Hannibal’s showrunner Bryan Fuller had a ban on rape scenes in his procedural series.

To Enterment Weekly, Fuller stated,

“A character gets raped” is a very easy story to pitch for a drama. And it comes with a stable of tropes that are infrequently elevated dramatically, or emotionally. I find that it’s not necessarily thought through in the more common crime procedurals. You’re reduced to using shorthand, and I don’t think there can be a shorthand for that violation— it’s an incredibly personal and intimate betrayal of something that should be so positive and healthy. And it’s frequently so thinly explored because you don’t have the real estate in 42 minutes to dig deep into what it is to be a victim of rape.”

This had me look critically at the narratives and tropes that surround rape. Three I found interesting tropes that occur.

1)     The rape of a woman used to justify her own cruelty. I’ve seen this a lot in American show where they have a mature aged woman who is powerful, ruthless, and seen as antagonist to the younger female protagonist. However, it is revealed that the woman was raped in the past and her ruthlessness is caused by the rape.

2)     The rape is seen as a who dunnit, where characters that are not the victim are searching for the rapist. The rapist is usually revealed with a twist with it either being a relative or family friend. This is used for dramatic effect and shock value. The woman is either dead or in other ways incapacitated

3)     The rape of a woman is usually the Hero’s ‘call to adventure’ or catalyst for revenge. The woman is raped and it is the hero’s job to avenge her. The hero can either be a grieving father or mourning lover. This is done from Shakespeare’s play to the recent Bollywood film Kaabil. The women are presented as objects and motivation for the hero to extract revenge for his honour or seek justice for his lose, while the women are either dead or literally mutilated.  

This one is also semi-related to the trope of a man saving a woman from rape and her instantly forgetting the traumatic experience and giving herself to her rescuer as thank you. Again, this shows the woman’s lack of agency on her own sexuality and body.

Therefore, with the premise that I found of Fatmagul I was scared that the show will redeem the rapist and make him a likeable character who Fatmagul would fall for. I found out from other plot summaries that it turned out that her husband didn’t actually participate in the rape, but that had no effect on me. It would be like that Pakistani drama which the guy ‘accidentally killed’ the husband. He too would be a victim and absolved from his crimes.

There were so many reasons why I couldn’t stand a love story between these two characters. She was raped and forced to marry her rapist, even though it may not be the case in Turkey now, in some countries there are still the ‘marry your rapist’ law. The trauma of being ganged rape could not be overcome with love, especially if that love is coming from a man who was there when it happened.

Anyway, I tried to stay away from this show - just on principles - but then, hearing everyone raving about it and telling me to watch it, I gave in and watched the series and... I enjoyed it immensely and here is why.

1. The treatment of rape 

When television has a woman who has been raped, it is either to create drama or to provide a backstory of why she is the way she is. Narrative about rape, when done wrong, is contained in a single episode or storyline. However, ‘What’s Fatmagul’s fault’ does not consist of one episode about rape as the whole show is revolved around Fatmagül - how she is coping after being raped and her search for justice.

The rape scene itself is quite uncomfortable and unsettling, never going beyond into tantalising or sensationalising territory. During the first few episodes it seemed that each of the three rapists would be a representation of different motives of rape. Erdoğan, having been humiliated and emasculated by his family, he dominates over Fatmagul’s body as pathetic grasp for power. He rapes Fatmagul in an attempt to gain control and portray masculinity to overcome his lack of dominance in the business or powerless role in the family. Vural, is the last of the three to rape Fatmagul and is seemed to join in as part of a commodity of sort. The nature of gang rape is said to be a sadistic way the men bond and form commodity. Vural seems to be ashamed of his action during and after it is over. Vural is depicted though the series as a coward – who is unable to admit to his actions nor is able to overcome them. He’s constantly in a depression of his guilt, but is selfish and such a coward that he is unable to confess to his crime. However, this theory of mine could never live up to its potential. I couldn’t understand Selim and his character motivation. At first, he seemed to dislike committing to one woman, his fiancé, but then can’t stand the idea of losing her. I thought his violence towards Fatmagul was to do with his unwillingness to commit to one sexual partner or be dominated by a woman, but that wasn’t the case from his interaction with his fiancé and later wife after the rape. Erdoğan, who I assumed, after escaping punishment for raping Fatmagul, would continue to assault women in order to have some sort of dominance – but again that never come up and I disliked his romance with the doctor. It seemed like in the end, they could just blame it on drugs. The rapist could have been explored, but I guess they weren’t due to it not being their story nor a justification for their action. The story is about Fatmagul.

2. Fatmagul and her agency and growth.

Famagul, the character and the actress’s performance, were amazing. After her rape she wants justice and the support of her fiancé. After her fiancé rejects her and her family pressurise her to marry Kerim, she – releasing no one is supporting her, loses her trust on the justice system and accepts society’s dictation on what should happen to her. Every action Fatmagul made, I understood. From waiting for her fiancé Mustafa, to wanting to kill herself, to attempting to kill Kerim. Every action made sense.

What was important was Kerim wasn’t shown as her saviour. The series never claimed that Kerim’s love was what Fatmagul needed to be whole again. Nor was it a male figure that ignited venges or sense of self-preservation in her. It was a woman. Kerim’s sister aka Abla becomes a confident to Fatmagul. She doesn’t show much tells Fatmagul what to do, but let’s Fatmagul know she has options and opportunities. Abla introduces two concepts which are extremely important. Education and therapy.

Fatmagul completes her education, giving her opportunities to find employment, become a business owner, and later confidence to obtain a driving licence. This demonstrates Fatmagul’s agency and her ability to be self-sufficient. Abla also suggests therapy to Fatmagul, who at first reject it but later asks for help. I like that they didn’t force it on her and that Fatmagul actively sort out mental help. Even the obligatory make-over scene of the female character isn’t from the courtesy of the male character, but through the bond of Abla and Fatmagul. Women helping women. It was nice to see this in contrast to Fatmagul’s sister-in-law’s character. The saying that there is a special place in hell for women who don’t help women, it’s filled with people like her.

The thing I disliked was Fatmagul’s love for Mustafa after he rejected her. But the series did a good job explaining that she wasn’t yearning for him, but a life before she was raped. He represented a life she could have had. She was holding on to that idea, but let it go knowing that she could never go back to a time where that was possible. And later she rejects Mustafa when he pleads that he was mistaken and wants her back. She rightfully addresses that he should have believed her and that when she needed him the most, he made it about himself and left her.

I also like the relationship she has with Kerim. She rejects him at every corner – and I agree with her at every step of the way. He doesn’t leave the country and declares he loves her. I disliked him, just as she did for that. He buys them rings and gets happy when she wears it- but really, she wears it to avoid unwanted attention from men. Again, I rolled by eyes at him for being happy at that but loved that Abla was feeling the same and asked Kerim to give Fatmagul space. He sees her letting go of the scarf Mustafa gave her, as a sign that she is letting go of Mustafa. I just hated when he had hope that she would fall for him. Dude, she’s going through some shit. Again, loved that she corrected him stating that she let go of the scarf because it used to remind her of her love for Mustafa but now it’s the thing that his friends used to muffle her screams.

No matter what Kerim did, I could not root from him. He would keep telling Fatmagul that he is innocent and didn’t do anything, which I believe doesn’t change anything cos he was there when it happened. He drew the other men’s attention to her, he grabbed her first, and he didn’t stop it. He was part of the nightmare.

However, as the show went Kerim realised his part in the rape. Him confronting Mustafa and explaining the true events of that night. Saying that Fatmagul was raped by those men, and even though he didn’t rape her – he also didn’t stop it from happening. Kerim claims it’s the fault of those men and his fault. But it is not her fault. I loved this scene as Kerim was finally focusing the narrative on Fatmagul. As mentioned earlier, rape narrative on occasion focuses on the male character. His quest for vengeance or justice. Though I haven’t read it, apparently in the original novel the story was focused on Kerim and his struggles of marrying a victim of rape. Yeah… poor guy. Thankfully, the show doesn’t do that. Kerim in the first few episodes make it about him but later recognises that it is about Fatmagul and what she has gone through because of him.

There is a lovely scene, which I kind of wish was explored more. After Kerim confesses and tells the police about the night – he asks Fatmagul if she’s angry at him for filling in a report. Fatmagul denies it. And plainly states she’s angry at herself for not telling the police first and thereby making this his victory. 

Again, I liked this scene because Fatmagul addresses that she should have been the one to go to the police. She should have agency, instead Kerim took that and made it about him. What a poorer series would have made into an epic romantic gesture, ‘Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne?’ questions and addresses the male discourses.

Though by the end, Fatmagul forgives Kerim – I was glad that she did after the audience was allowed to forgive him. I had forgiven and fell in love with Kerim before Fatmagul and that was crucial part of the series. And what I loved was that when Fatmagul’s harpy of sister-in-law wants to take credit for making Fatmagul marry Kerim, Fatmagul breaks down and reveals to Kerim’s half-sister that though she loves Kerim and her life with him, she would give it all up to go back before that night. She would rather never have known him than have been a victim of rape. It is a touching scene that reminds us that while Fatmagul is moving on with life; being a business owner, living in a nice house, and in love with Kerim, none of it is worth having what had happen to her.

3. Kerim and his search for redemption and forgiving himself.

Like I said before, it took a long while for me to like Kerim. Even by then end his tendency to lose his temper – due to the rapists - in front of Fatmagul annoyed the hell out of me. It is obvious that Fatmagul is uncomfortable with two things Kerim being angry and him drinking alcohol. So again, I wished this was address. Other than that, Kerim’s arch was well handed.

Though I was on Kerim’s side by the end of Season 1, it wasn’t until Season 2 that I truly liked him. In the first season we are given glimpses of Kerim’s past. After his father abandoned him, his mother committed suicide. Kerim was the one who found her body. This is why Kerim doesn’t want to abandon Fatmagul, as he doesn’t want to give the same pain his father did. He hates his father and refuses to read the letters he sends.

However, father and son reconnect. It is revealed that Kerim’s mother was in love with another man, but her family made her marry Kerim’s father. Even years after their marriage, she couldn’t forget her love. After giving birth to Kerim, the mother’s ex kills himself. Kerim’s father leaves the house, knowing that the mother can love no one ever again. Not being able to live in a world without her ex, she kills herself. This information informs Kerim’s growth as a character. He realises that he wasn’t enough for his mother and that she didn’t love him as much as her ex. Believing that Fatmagul is still in love with Mustafa and he is just someone she was forced to marry – Kerim identifies with his father and thinks that Fatmagul could never love him. He decided to let Fatmagul leave this force relationship.

I liked this as it was a change of character, as Kerim was always trying to make Fatmagul love him – he realised that he couldn’t force her feelings onto him. Fatmagul says she wants to work things out with him. This made their relationship an active choice of Fatmagul.

The knowledge of his past made Kerim a more self-aware character. Even though Fatmagul forgives him, he can’t. And I like that while Fatmagul wants to begin a relationship with him, he’s the one that is now haunted by the night of the rape.

Kerim also joins Fatmagul in her therapy sessions and two talk about their relationship and issues they have in themselves. And the show does a good job depicting the characters feelings towards physical intimacy.

There is a powerful scene where after Kerim and Fatmagul have their first kiss, they each go to their separate bedrooms. Fatmagul has a nightmare in which is on the bed in her wedding dress and Erdoğan and Selim are looking over her. Kerim is there also, and watches helplessly. Fatmagul silently screams for Kerim, but he doesn’t move as Erdoğan touches her wedding dress. She wakes up with a concern Kerim walking into her room, and she screams, frighted of him.

It is scenes like these that explore the characters’ fears and motivations that made Fatmagul a great show. However, there are some flaws with it. Like, I don’t care about rapist family business. I feel like every 20 episodes the business is bankrupt but nothing happiness. The patriarchy head yells about this rape affecting his business and how they are going to run their business. By the end, I just didn’t care anymore and skipped the scenes dealing with the families of the rapists. Erdoğan and Selim on the run was annoying and so was their romances with other women – especially after the women found out they were rapists. And the court case was filled with soap opera moments and rarely any actual legal stuff. Like a great example would be the Vurat parent testified that he was with them that night, but they weren’t even in the country at the time. But atlas half of the witness either die or are brought off.

I have to mention my favourite episode. The last episode. I could do a whole review of that episode, but for now I’ll keep it short. The episode cuts between the court case and the events of the day of the rape. As audience we get see scenes from Episode 1, old characters that have left or died, and additional scenes that flesh out character and give a final closure to their arcs. However, the best part is the ending of the flashback. We are taken back to the night of the rape, as Fatmagul goes to see Mustafa and Kerim spots her. However, he doesn’t draw attention to her. She sees them and continues on her way. The rape never occurs. This is a powerful scene, on of many. Kerim later on catches up with Fatmagul who has missed Mustafa’s boat. He talks to her but she rejects him and walks back home.

This seems to be a wishful ending of the flashback from Kerim and Fatmagul. Of how they wish that night had went. The ending alludes to Kerim maybe going to see her the next day and maybe in another world they would have met and fell in love without that night having to happen. 

Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne? is an excellent show and has 80 episodes to explore characters and the aftermath of sexual violence. I give it 4/5. 

If you haven’t seen it, check it out - if you have, what did you think of it? 

#Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne? #Beren Saat #engin akyürek #fatmagul #fatmagül #turkish series #xenophanatic

[phroyd]

We lost a Great Journalist today, and there are very few, if any, working today, who could fill her shoes!  We will miss you Cokie, and we wish there were more who could live up to your bar! - Phroyd.

Cokie Roberts, who drew on her upbringing in a powerful political family to fashion a career as a leading Washington journalist for NPR and ABC News, bringing a tough, knowledgeable voice to the rough-and-tumble political arena at a time when few women had national profiles in the news business, died on Tuesday in Washington. She was 75.

ABC News, in a posting on its website Tuesday morning, said the cause was breast cancer.

Ms. Roberts was known to millions for both her reporting and her commentaries, moving easily among radio, television and print to explain the impact of world events and the intricacies of policy debates. And in books like “Ladies of Liberty: The Women Who Shaped Our Nation” (2008) and “Capital Dames: The Civil War and the Women of Washington, 1848-1868” (2015) she highlighted the often overlooked role of women in history, especially political history.

“Cokie Roberts was a trailblazer,” Nancy Pelosi, the speaker of the House, said on Twitter, “who transformed the role of women in the newsroom & our history books as she told the stories of the unsung women who built our nation.”

Ms. Roberts, who joined NPR in the late 1970s and ABC News in 1988, carved out a career that served as an example to later generations of women in journalism.

“I’m proud as hell — proud as hell — to work at a news organization that has ‘Founding Mothers’ whom we all look up to,” Danielle Kurtzleben, an NPR reporter, said on Twitter. “God bless Cokie Roberts.”

In a statement, former President Barack Obama and the former first lady Michelle Obama called Ms. Roberts “a role model to young women at a time when the profession was still dominated by men; a constant over 40 years of a shifting media landscape and changing world, informing voters about the issues of our time and mentoring young journalists every step of the way.”

And President Trump, speaking to reporters on Air Force One en route to California from New Mexico, said of Ms. Roberts: “I never met her. She never treated me nicely. But I would like to wish her family well. She was a professional and I respect professionals. I respect you guys a lot, you people a lot. She was a real professional. Never treated me well, but I certainly respect her as a professional.”

If Ms. Roberts brought keen insight to her work, that was in part because she was a child of politicians, one who first walked the halls of Congress as a girl. Her father was Hale Boggs, a longtime Democratic representative from Louisiana who in the early 1970s was House majority leader. After he died in a plane crash in 1972, his wife and Ms. Roberts’s mother, Lindy Boggs, was elected to fill his seat. She served until 1991 and later became United States ambassador to the Vatican.

Ms. Roberts’s background gave her a deep respect for the government institutions she covered, and she didn’t hold herself or her journalism colleagues blameless for the problems of government. “We are quick to criticize and slow to praise,” she said in a commencement address at Boston College in 1994.

“But,” she told the crowd, “it’s also your fault.” Constituents, she said, needed to allow members of Congress to make the tough votes and “let that person live to fight another day.”

In an oral history recorded for the House of Representatives in 2007 and 2008, she expanded on the impact her childhood experiences had in shaping her views about America.

“Because I spent time in the Capitol and particularly in the House of Representatives, I became deeply committed to the American system,” she said. “And as close up and as personally as I saw it and saw all of the flaws, I understood all of the glories of it.”

“Here we are, so different from each other,” she added, “with no common history or religion or ethnicity or even language these days, and what brings us together is the Constitution and the institutions that it created. And the first among those is Congress. The very word means coming together. And the fact that messily and humorously and all of that, it happens — it doesn’t happen all the time, and it doesn’t always happen well, but it happens — is a miracle.”

Mary Martha Corinne Morrison Claiborne Boggs was born on Dec. 27, 1943, in New Orleans. She said that her brother, Tommy, invented her nickname because he couldn’t say “Corinne.”

She, her brother and her sister, Barbara, were immersed in political life, accompanying their father on campaign trips, attending ceremonial functions and listening to the dinner-table discussions that ensued when other political leaders visited the home.

“Our parents did not have the children go away when the grown-ups came,” Ms. Roberts said. “In retrospect, I’ve sometimes wondered, ‘What did those people think to have all these children around all the time?’ But we were around, and it was great for us.”

Although her father had considerable influence on her, so did her mother, who was active in furthering her father’s career, along with other women she came to know, like Lady Bird Johnson.

“I was very well aware of the influence of these women,” she said, adding, “I very much grew up with a sense, from them, that women could do anything, and that they could sort of do a whole lot of things at the same time.”

It was a theme she teased out in her 1998 book, “We Are Our Mothers’ Daughters.”

“For years my mother kept telling me that it’s nothing new to have women as soldiers, as diplomats, as politicians, as revolutionaries, as explorers, as founders of large institutions, as leaders in business; that the women of my generation did not invent the wheel,” she wrote. “In the past women might not have had the titles, she painstakingly and patiently explained, but they did the jobs that fit those descriptions.”

Ms. Roberts attended Catholic schools in New Orleans and Bethesda, Md., and graduated from Wellesley College in Massachusetts in 1964 with a degree in political science. In 1966 she married Steven V. Roberts, who was a correspondent then for The New York Times. Journalism was a largely male world at the time, something driven home to her when she went job hunting.

“In 1966 I left an on-air anchor television job in Washington, D.C., to get married,” she told The Times in 1994. “My husband was at The New York Times. For eight months I job-hunted at various New York magazines and television stations, and wherever I went I was asked how many words I could type.”

She eventually became a radio correspondent for CBS before joining NPR in 1978. (Sources give both 1977 and 1978 as her start year at NPR.) With her fellow newswomen Nina Totenberg and Linda Wertheimer, she began to change the journalistic landscape.

“As a troika they have succeeded in revolutionizing political reporting,” The Times wrote in that 1994 article. “Twenty years ago Washington journalism was pretty much a male game, like football and foreign policy. But along came demure Linda, delicately crashing onto the presidential campaign press bus; then entered bulldozer Nina, with major scoops on Douglas Ginsburg and Anita Hill; and in came tart-tongued Cokie with her savvy Congressional reporting. A new kind of female punditry was born.”

Ms. Roberts wrote a syndicated political column with her husband for many years. They lived in Europe for a time in the 1970s, and over the years she covered international stories, but Washington was her main turf. She covered Congress at a time when her mother was an increasingly important member of it, though that proved to be not as big a benefit to her professionally as it might have seemed, Ms Roberts said.

“She would never tell me anything,” she said in the oral history. “She was disgustingly discreet.”

Ms. Boggs died in 2013.

Ms. Roberts continued to provide segments for NPR even after joining ABC. The difference between the two, she said, was partly a matter of airtime.

“My average piece from the Hill for NPR would be four and a half minutes,” she said, “and my average piece for ABC would be a minute 15.”

At NPR, one of her regular segments was “Ask Cokie,” in which she used her vast knowledge of Washington, politics and history to answer listeners’ question on matters major, minor and obscure. One asked whether nuclear weapons could be launched by executive order only, absent Congressional authorization. One wanted to know where the phrase “lame duck session” came from.

In a recent installment pegged to the 100th anniversary of the House vote to approve the 19th Amendment, Steve Inskeep, the host, found himself interrupted by Ms. Roberts when he used the phrase “granting women the right to vote” to introduce the segment.

“No, no, no, no, no granting — no granting,” Ms. Roberts said in her characteristically emphatic style. “We had the right to vote as American citizens. We didn’t have to be granted it by some bunch of guys.”

She is survived by her husband; her two children, Lee and Rebecca Roberts; and six grandchildren.

Ms. Roberts received numerous honors, including sharing in several Emmy Awards. In 2008, the Library of Congress named her as a recipient of one of its “Living Legends” awards.

Ms. Roberts long had a front-row seat to history. In a 2017 interview with Kentucky Educational Television, she recalled a moment when she had to remind herself not to become jaded by that proximity. It was March 2013, and she was waiting in a cold rain for the Vatican smoke signal that would soon announce the selection of Pope Francis.

“Hundreds of thousands of people are pouring into St. Peter’s Square with the rain deluging them,” she said. “And my first reaction was: ‘Who are these people? What are they doing? That is crazy.’ And then I thought, ‘You jerk,’ to myself. ‘You are really not getting it. This is a moment in history that will be maybe the only time in all of these people’s lives that they have this front seat to history, and you’re so privileged you get it all the time.’”

But, she also reflected, big-stage moments give journalists only one part of the larger picture of their times.

“The individual interview with someone who is a mom in a shopping mall,” she said, “can tell you more about what’s going on in the world and how people feel about it than any of those grand things.”

Peter Baker contributed reporting from aboard Air Force One.

Correction: Sept. 17, 2019

An earlier version of a digital summary with this obituary misstated the sequence of Ms. Roberts's career. As the obituary correctly states, she was at NPR before she was at ABC, not after.

Phroyd

#abc news #npr #cokie roberts

[jeannereames]

Hello, Dr. Reames! I love your work (and am very excited to read your novels very soon!). I am thinking of doing a phd (not history or classics, but maybe sort of related to Alexander) but I'm scared that I'm not going to have the motivation to go through with the whole thing... Do you ever lose motivation and get discouraged when researching/writing and how do you deal with it? I know that this is completely unrelated to Alexander/ancient history so feel free to ignore it☺

Hi, there! This reply is going to be in 3 parts. First, about my own motivation…

I think everybody (even Alexander!) has periods of feeling discouraged. It’s part of being human. This is especially true when something you put days, weeks, or sometimes *years* of effort into doesn’t work out, or isn’t well-received, or comes back with “revise and resubmit.” Ha.

So, real life recent example:  About a year and a half ago, I finished an article that took me (literally) 5 years to research and write, because it combined research into two different areas, only one of which is my research area. It took a huge amount of reading, and I’d even presented it at a couple of conferences, where I received good feedback. It was supposed to be published in conference proceedings, but that fell through (not my part of it, the entire publication didn’t happen because the editor quit). So I had to shop it around to journals. It went out to three readers, and all three returned it with “Revise (substantially) and resubmit,” + large *additional* bibliography (mostly not in English) in the area not my field. Two of the readers thought my chief point was valid, but needed more support. (The third just flat disagreed with me, but it’s academia; that happens.) But that was after it had been presented 3xs already, and revised after each.

OTOH, I was pretty discouraged. But OTOH, the suggestions and reading lists were helpful. These are blind reviews, so it wasn’t personal. And the entire point of peer review is to help a book or article improve. Lord knows, nobody wants to put out something that will get you laughed at. But after all the time I’d already spent on it, it was still really discouraging as I’d thought it in pretty good shape.

Almost everybody in academia is going to have an article or three turned down, or a book refused, etc. And after a while, it can be really hard to keep trying. And it’s not just in academia.

Do you know how long it took me to sell Dancing with the Lion? 15 years! I got my first serious query from an agent in 1996. (The first words of the novel were written in December of 1988–that’s how old it is.) That agent eventually decided it wasn’t for her. I’ve had a couple others since…same thing. I’ve sent out probably around 500 queries to agents or publishers. In fact, I’d put the book AWAY and started a completely different trilogy (which I’m in the middle of now), because I figured it would only sell later.

Then I happened to read comments about Madeline Miller’s A Song for Achilles written by an English professor and new acquisitions editor at Riptide. She liked it, but there were a couple of things she really didn’t like. And they were the very ways (I thought) my novel was different. So I emailed her. She asked for sample chapters, then the whole thing, and finally, Riptide offered me a contract. They’re not a major press, they’re a Romance publisher primarily, but they were willing to take a chance on my coming-of-age historical, so I grabbed the opportunity. Now the book is out (well, the first half is), and it’s getting pretty decent reviews.

So persistence can pay off.

That said, if someone else had told me that story 10 years ago, I’d have snorted and said (in my mind), “Maybe it did for you. Maybe I’m just a bad writer and I’ll never succeed.” I’d also just been through a divorce and was having trouble selling my house in the housing bust, etc., etc. So a lot of things in my life were pear-shaped at the time, and that can make it really hard to keep trudging.

The “Dark Night of the Soul” is a real thing, and we all go through it.

The only way I get through it, myself, is to remember things in the past that went well, times I succeeded. Plus, I’m just a really stubborn SOB. Ha.

But discouragement is normal, and there will be points in everybody’s life where not just one or two things are going wrong, but it seems as if EVERYthing is going wrong and you’re just a total failure. You have to believe it’ll get better.

Now, part #2, about motivation to complete a degree. It’s a bit like the AA motto: one day at a time. Or really, one semester at a time. One hurdle at a time. When I first got to Penn State, the long, long road ahead made me freak out a little, but Gene Borza (my advisor) told me to take it in bites. And to remember that other people had made it through; I could, as well.

Also, don’t let yourself get thrown by “Imposter’s Syndrome.” This is the feeling that you don’t belong somewhere: in grad school, in a PhD program, in a department (or really, ANY arena). You’re not as good as the others. Minorities, women, and first-generation college students are those most likely to suffer imposter’s syndrome, but it can hit others too, such as the children of academics (I’ll never measure up to mom/dad), etc.

Last, part #3, and this may seem an odd coda to all the above rah-rah cheerleading. But as a (now former) graduate program chair, I would be terribly remiss if I didn’t put out a warning.

Not only is the field of humanities in trouble right now, in the US and Canada, and elsewhere, too, but the entire university system is changing. This latter is especially true in the US, but I hear rumblings from other places. Partly, this owes to the rise of online education. But even more, it’s what I call the “Wal-martization” of the university, where tenure-track lines are being replaced by a bunch of part-time instructors who have to teach 6 classes just to make enough to EAT. “Adjunct” professors, even those with PhDs, are paid a pittance. It’s absolutely immoral and ridiculous.

Universities are turning into profit more than education, with a degree seen as “job training” instead of learning to think critically and exploring Big Questions, which are increasingly viewed as a waste of time. Administration levels are increasingly bloated with deans, assistant deans, supervisory boards, etc. They’re (mostly) not teaching, but their paycheques are high. Tenured faculty positions are being eliminated. Colleges and unis realized that they could turn over a lot of (especially intro and survey) courses to part-time instructors for a *fraction* of what they paid tenured and tenure-track faculty, but still reap high tuition.

When I was finishing up in the ‘90s, I was teaching as an adjunct while writing my dissertation, then for a bit after, as was expected for “teaching experience” before being hired. The phenomenon of the “Visiting Assistant Professor” (or VAP) was *starting* to gain traction, but was still usually just a year or two until these people would find a tenure-track position (VAP is not tenure-track). But now, I know people who’ve been VAPping for YEARS. And some just give up. Also, adjuncting like what I was doing has gone from “teaching experience for a real job” into “the only lane for employment” for a lot of PhD (and some MA) graduates. Especially women PhDs get caught in that trap.

These are the realities of where we are right  now.

And THE MOST USELESS DEGREE ON THE PLANET is a PhD in the humanities. I say that as one who holds it. With a few exceptions, a humanities PhD prepares you for pretty much one job: being a professor. And those jobs are winking out of existence with frightening speed. This is a change that has accelerated over the last 10 years, and especially over the last 5. We’re turning out PhDs with no available positions. Museum studies, Classics, archaeology, philosophy are in even worse shape. SOME history PhDs are more popular. This year, H-Net has a bunch of Latin American positions open, for instance.

An MA in history (or related) is still useful. There are certain jobs that like them, ranging from state jobs like the Park Service to the FBI and CIA.

But a PhD? Think loooooong and hard before investing that time and money. This is not a matter of *you* not being able to do the work to get one. It’s a matter of the university system as we’ve known it crumbling away under our very feet. I have no idea what the American university will look like in 10 years. And once you have a PhD, it educates you out of most other jobs.

So that’s the unfortunate bad news. And I’d be a very irresponsible advisor if I didn’t tell you the truth. IME, people who really want a PhD will ignore me and go after it anyway. But at least you’ll go in with your eyes open.

#encouragement #dealing with discouragement #imposter's syndrome #academia #PhD track #Adjunct Hell #Think twice (and then a third time) about getting a PhD these days #Humanities tenure track jobs are drying up #asks

[pambradaza]

Kung mas lalo kang humirap ngayon, sino ang sisisihin mo?

I’m not a fan of Filipino noon shows, but this episode really stuck with me. Vice Ganda here, rebukes Anne Curtis’ and a contestant’s argument that the poor remain poor because they are lazy. For him, especially as someone with the rags to riches narrative, his success does not discredit the hard work of farmers who are cheated by unfair pricing and monopoly in agribusiness. He also shared that in the past, he used to think the same way as well. However, he now realized that it is the people with leverage who are constraining others. Injustice and inequity is still prevalent as one can observe in the school setting, for example. The rich are typically labeled the brightest minds for they can afford private tutors and have access to the internet and academics materials. Although there is a right to education, many are still at a disadvantage due to the high cost of education.

WHAT. A. DRAG. I know, but I wanted to use this as an example in order for us to better understand the habitus of two different sides of the same coin. What has led me to my current disposition? What has led the Women of Buklod to theirs? 

May naibinhi nga ba ang Binhi sa akin?

When I first signed up for LB01, I did not expect that I would be able to learn more than I already knew. Being a female, I have always thought that I’ve had a clear picture of the plight of women. I was, of course, proven wrong. One’s mere similarity with another does not immediately entail a clear understanding of another’s situation.

The women of Buklod ng Kababaihan were former sex workers in Olongapo. Sex tourism was prominent in their city, especially during the time of the U.S. military in the Subic Bay Naval Base. Its closure after the American Occupation, however, did not abolish the bars and clubs that have made their niche. Instead, only the clientele of the so-called Sin City changed.

Ate Jen (not real name), Ate Apple (not real name), to name a few, were strong women. Behind their smiles, however, are lingering stories of pain and abuse. Belonging mostly from the marginalized sectors, these women were the breadwinner in the family. Some of them were even sold by Mothers to the sex trafficking ring or were molested by their family members. Most of them, due to the violence and harassment experienced in their families, ran away. This is where the women were unfortunately reeled into sex work. Ate Apple, one of the oldest in the group, gave birth to a half-American who will never get to know his father. Ate Jen, the Buklod member I got to talk a lot with, shared that she made a round with all the abuses one could ever think about. Due to lacking educational attainment, Ate Jen and many others were unable to land on jobs that could satisfy the needs of everyone in the family. For Ate Jen, specifically, it meant going home and not being able to feed the mouths of her 6 children, her relatives, and her husband. Thus, she was pushed into the world of an “entertainer”. For some, however, sex work was a choice. It was a chance to explore their sexuality whilst earning income. Unfortunately, this entailed contracting sexually transmitted diseases, unfair treatment in the workplace, and abuse.

Raised by Catholic parents, Ate Jen was a devout Catholic. Thus, when she was finally able to liberate herself from the horrors of the growing sex industry, she vowed to give back to society. Along with many others, Ate Jen volunteers in the programs of Buklod ng Kababaihan in order to support sex workers and to help their families as well. Buklod ng Kababihan wants to highlight that there are other opportunities for women to earn money. At the same time, they understand the reasons for many to continue sex work. Thus, they want to protect the rights of sex workers as well. Roughly translated, I remember Ate Joy telling us that before she was aided by others, she lived a life in submission. Now, although barely scraping by, Ate Jen says she is the happiest she can ever be now that she spends her time with her children, works an honest job as a janitress, and helps other women through rallying and working for Buklod.

Pushed by their harsh environment to be tough and independent, these women are the epitome of true grit. They have learned their ways in order to survive. Cunning, bold, fearless – such words barely justify the strength of the women of Buklod. Seeing them laugh and stand proud, it makes one forget that once upon a time, these women felt that at a point in their lives, they were hopeless. With no authority figure to guide them and barely any support felt as a child, these women were forced into maturity at such a young age. This makes me ponder about the great class disparity here in the Philippines. Every night for nineteen years, I came home to loving parents and a hearty meal. Unknowingly, on the other side of the wall, there were families of a dozen sharing a cup of noodles to warm themselves as they slept at streets, with lampposts as their only light.

I have always labeled myself as belonging to the middle class or the comfortable living standard. I never appreciated what we had because I always thought that it was not enough. We weren’t rich. We just had enough to feed our mouths and pay our tuition. My parents grew up in poor families. My mom used to sell ice candy and banana cue when she was twelve. My father was a caretaker of houses every summer during his childhood to help his parents. Thus, I was shaped to think that I needed to work hard so that I may be able to repay my parents. Although my parents did a good job of alleviating our standard of living, some of my relatives weren’t fortunate enough. Thus, I was encouraged to study hard. Even my drive as a Management Engineering student is stirred by my hopes of a better future not only for my children but for my relatives as well. Although my parents grew up with parents of the working-class, perhaps the reason they have never raised a hand on my sister and I, or that they value education and hard worker, no matter what the cost, is attributed to their upbringing. Although I never got the chance to be close with my grandparents before their passing, I heard of their stories. They might be tough at times, but they worked hard for the future of my parents. Thus, I believe that my profound interest in socioeconomic issues or politics, in academics, and my self-direction and autonomy is a product of the structured and structuring structure of my habitus.  

Although at some point, some women of Buklod shared the same story as my parents, my parents had different social capital. They were influenced by scholars in the family. My granddads were engineers and my grandma was a teacher. They were low in economic capital, yes, but the similarity in their demand and resource was offset by the great force backed by the environment. For my parents, they valued education and they wanted to be part of the corporate world or at least to move up from being blue-collared workers. Ate Jen and Ate Apple didn’t have that kind of support. In their respective fields, actors such as their families and friends played a role in their transformation, in the context of my parents, or preservation, in the situation of the sex workers, of their social hierarchy. Thus, my current disposition is brought about by the earned privilege I have as bestowed by my parents. For many others, however, the life they live today as a combination of the life they were born to and of the oppressive system of our society.

In the end, it all boils down to us as members of our society. Do we live for ourselves, or do we live for the greater good? If we all take our time to reflect and see the consequences of our actions, we will soon be able to realize that we are often clouded by notions of greed and thirst for greatness. When we soon stop ourselves from clinging to be the best among the rest, that is when we soon see that there need not be the best. What we need as a society is to be able to cater to each and every one. Perhaps, if we are open to such concept, then maybe the term marginalized will be nonexistent as well. In a documentary I have watched entitled “Walang Rape sa Bontoc”, I realized that if we are able to strengthen our ideals of equity and respect, then concepts such as the poor, violence, rape, abuse, discrimination, and many more, would never have been created or would have no use for at all. It is a long journey to such dream. Too idealistic would be a phrase for many. However, I do believe that no matter what the cost or no matter how long it takes, if we all see through our materialistic desires, we may be able to find ourselves as one with everybody else. This is what Binhi has made me see. I never thought that I’d ever quote Vice Ganda or use his philosophy for any circumstance at all, but truth be told, it is in our hands as people of privilege to help others to stand and grow as well. 

#BinhiPaper #BuklodNgKababihan

[luckyspike]

Adventures in America, Ch. 9 - Jackson County, Missouri

In which we learn about Rachael and Noel

Adam and Lucky bond over mutual interests that aren’t weather

And Aziraphale and Crowley share a soft moment at the edge of a corn field

Read the previous chapters here (not on AO3 yet!): ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8

or just check out my fanfiction tag

-

The next day brought a trip to the great state of Missouri, and more tornadoes. Bigger, this time, longer-lived. Adam and Lucky watched with great enthusiasm as the powerlines flashed when the tornado tore through them, and then with dread as they watched the biggest tornado of the day lift a barn entirely up off the ground and hurl it, in pieces, hundreds of yards to either side. When the danger had passed, Rachael drove the truck toward the property, the students taking in the destruction as they drove past the bits of barn on the way up the farm road. Noel and Rachael led the way to the farmhouse, where they knocked on the door and checked on the homeowner and were assured that it was just hay in the barn, thanks for checking but we’re fine, appreciate the stop. 

“It should be a compulsory part of storm chasing,” Noel told the boys solemnly as they piled back into the truck. “Lots of chasers do it, and that’s great, but I’ve seen vans and trucks blow past a trashed building just to keep following the storm.” He shook his head. “No excuse for that, not really.”

There wasn’t as much lightning with that system, so Rachael didn’t bother throwing the probes out. After they checked on the farm house, they drove after the storm for a little while longer, but it fell apart near the capitol, and they called it a night. Noel was driving by then, and when the group decided a diner sounded just perfect for a quick bite before bed, he somehow managed to navigate to a greasy spoon on the side of the road that promised some of the best burgers in the midwest. Adam wasn’t typically a fan of burgers, but when faced with a claim like that, he felt it was fairly mandatory to at least give them a try.

They chatted idly about the storms of the day while the waited, Adam nursing a Pepsi and Lucky working on a black-and-white milkshake. “So what are we thinking about tomorrow?” Noel asked, over the rim of his coffee cup.

Rachael had the laptop out, and she didn’t look particularly happy. “Not … not looking good. Not for the next few days, as much as I can estimate.” She sighed. “I can look again in the morning, for sure, but if there’s anything, it’s going to be little, and it’ll be all the way up in South Dakota, probably.”

Noel winced. “Worth the drive?”

“Well … I mean, I’ll check tomorrow, but if you want my money on it … no. Sorry. There’s a few little system set-ups in the works, but nothing I can forsee producing anything worthwhile. Probably a bust day.”

Lucky and Adam exchanged a look. “So what do we do on bust days?” Adam asked, over the slurping of the milkshake. Although this was supposed to be an educational trip, he was sort of desperately hoping the answer wasn’t going to be studying. Certainly, if he was in America, there would be something to do besides sit around and study.

“Well, Noel has some textbooks in the truck that you two can share, and -” Rachael caught their expressions and stopped to laugh. “Nah, just kidding. I mean, you can if you want to, but doesn’t sound very fun, does it?” They shook their heads slowly. “Noel and I have a lot of photos and video to edit, so we’re gonna be pretty tied up with that most of the day, but since we won’t be traveling anywhere, might make sense for us to head back to Kansas City tonight and stay there, and you guys can explore around tomorrow if you want. There’s museums and stuff there, and it’s not even a two-hour drive, so not too bad to head to tonight.”

Lucky nodded. “Kansas City’s good with me. I’ve never been there.”

“I have once,” Adam said, as the waitress set his food down in front of him. Regardless of the quality of the burger, it was certainly one of the biggest burgers he’d ever seen. Next to him, Lucky made a confused noise that reminded him, a little, of Crowley, and made something that felt a little like homesickness twist in his gut, although that might have just been hunger at the sight of the burger and fries. “Nah, just kidding.” He picked up a fry and smirked at the other boy. “I’m game though.”

“I was so confused for a minute.” The waitress set down Lucky’s meal: an enormous plate of fried chicken. “Oh man, oh yes.”

“You really gonna eat all that?”

“Or die trying.”

Noel sighed wistfully. “I wish I could still eat like that without needing a handful of antacids afterwards.” He’d ordered a BLT for himself, and Rachael had chosen a tuna melt.

“You can have a piece if you want?” Lucky pushed the drumstick close to Noel, who shook his head. “Sure?”

“Enjoy it for me. Much as I’d like it, I’d prefer to sleep tonight.”

They ate in silence for a while. Adam considered his burger. It was certainly good, but was it one of the best? He chewed each bite thoughtfully, and tried to balance the juiciness of the meat with the sharpness of the cheese and the varied tastes - sweet, acid, umami - of the condiments. About a quarter of the way through, he settled on the conclusion that it maybe wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but it certainly was in the top five. He set it down to take a photo of it for the group, which he would include with the tornado pictures when he sent them later.

“You guys still have to show me your pictures,” Rachael said, the sight of Adam’s phone jogging her memory. “Lucky, you took a million yesterday and today - I heard your camera. Any favorites?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed his mouthful of chicken. “I’ll show you when I’m not greasy.”

“Deal.” She cocked her head, a loose lock of dark hair falling across her nose. She blew it out of the way. “How about you, Adam?”

He thought about all the photos and videos he’d taken, and considered. “I think some are pretty good,” he concluded. “My friends back home loved some of the ones from yesterday, but I think that was more because of the tornado and not as much the quality of the photography. I’ll show you when I’m done.”

“That’s fair.” She nudged Noel. “I know you have some great pictures, I heard your camera going off all day like it was going out of style.”

Noel replied, and Adam ate quietly as they bantered back and forth. He grinned a little too, around bites of burger, because for two research partners, Noel and Rachael were really very funny together. He wondered if they were more than research partners, but neither had ever said, and while he wouldn’t have thought twice about asking when he was eleven, at eighteen he liked to think he had picked up enough social graces through the years to know better than to come out with a question like that*. Besides, neither wore a ring, and neither had made any kind of overt romantic gesture toward the other, which led Adam to believe that if they were more than research partners, they probably didn’t like to discuss it with customers. 

[*And if anything, Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship had taught him that an obvious friendship and incredible chemistry didn’t always infer a relationship that any involved parties would be willing to talk about for any length of time without blushing, or turning into a gigantic serpent and escaping through a window. Although Adam also knew the latter was significantly less likely within the general population.]

“So where are you guys from?” Lucky asked, and Adam startled out of his reverie. “I mean, I read your bios online, but like - Noel, you’re from around this part of the country, aren’t you?”

“Not quite - I’m from Montana.” Noel’s expression changed when he mentioned that state, settled into something calm and peaceful. “Big Sky country. Not too many tornadoes up that way, though, but the winter storms can be something up in the mountains. That’s home base for me, when it’s not chasing season.”

“So you like snow and stuff?”

“Oh, yeah! Cross-country skiing, trapping, fishing.” He laughed. “Growing up out there, just me and my mom, it was a little wild. She’s kind of a frontier-woman type, so we grew or hunted a lot of our own food.” He shrugged. “Not that I don’t love it, obviously, nothing better than being out in nature if you ask me, but I do like being able to run to the store when I’m out of peanut butter. College domesticated me, I guess.”

“Education’ll do that,” Rachael agreed, laughing. “One minute you’re Grizzly Adams, the next you’re eating Top Ramen and yelling at the weather channel in an air-conditioned dorm because it’s kind of hot outside.”

Noel acted affronted at that. “My dorm didn’t have air conditioning, excuse you.”

“Oh, so sorry, my mistake.” Lucky and Adam were laughing, which Adam rather suspected was the intended outcome of the little show the two scientists were putting on. “Was it actually a constructed building or did you fashion your own dorm out of hewn logs?”

Noel shook his head. “They wouldn’t let me build a log cabin on campus, can you believe?” He nodded her way. “Anyway, that’s me, what about you? Where you from? The public wants to know.”

“Florida.” Rachael sighed. “Sorry to say, I am Florida Woman.” Lucky and Adam laughed again. “Fighting alligators, selling fake Superbowl tickets, finding manatees in the swimming pool … Yes, all my doing.”

Lucky looked somewhat worried, and Adam paused. “Wait, really?”

“No.” She scoffed. “Well, okay, one time a manatee did get into our pool, but that was one time. During a hurricane.” She waved a hand. “Storm surge, you know how it is. Anyway, I did not grow up on the wild plains of America - I grew up like a normal American kid in a kind-of-nice trailer park on the Gulf coast, and was already completely civilized by the time I arrived at college.”

Adam nodded. “Did you guys meet in college, or … ?” he trailed off, letting the question hang. Rachael’s mouth dropped open.

“Adam, how old do you think I am?”

Adam winced. “Sorry, I just -” but she was laughing anyway, and he relaxed and broke into a grin. “Sorry.”

“Kidding, kidding. No, we didn’t meet in college. Well,” she amended, “I was in college. He was working for OSU at the time, I think?” Noel nodded in confirmation. “Anyway, I was working with OSU’s lightning research team and he was helping with the mesonet, so that’s where we met. Then a few years later, when I was looking to do more lightning research for my PhD, he had started storm chasing, and he actually hired me on.” She shrugged. “Free research opportunities for me, and another driver for him.”

“Plus I can pay her in Dunkin coffee, which is a lot less than what the other candidates I interviewed wanted,” he joked. She made a face at him. “Alright, and money, yes. Even benefits, eventually.”

Rachael pushed her plate away, the tuna melt long gone and the fries all but eaten. She rested her face in her hands. “Yeah, that was a bigger adventure than storm chasing was that year, I think. God, getting him to do literally any amount of official paperwork is actually painful.”

“Which is why I gave her a raise and expanded her duties to include the business operations.” He snorted. “Worked out great for me - I just keep the truck and the equipment running, and don’t get us killed, she finds the storms and does taxes.”

Lucky frowned then, and Adam could almost hear what the other boy was thinking. He watched Lucky chew a french fry thoughtfully, swallow, and then open his mouth. Rachael, grinning like a shark, headed him off before he could get a word out. “If you’re about to ask if we are anything more than business partners, the answer is no. Everyone thinks so, though.” She sighed. “Alas, I’m married to a lovely woman who holds down the fort in Florida, and Noel here is married to Montana, I think.”

“Yeah, okay.” He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“And you both just really like weather?” Adam asked, also choosing to push his plate away, although the handful of fries left were practically calling to him. “S’how you got into storm chasing?”

“I mean, I grew up in lightning country, so I guess it just carried on from there. I always liked it, wanted to know how it worked.” Rachael shrugged. “You?”

“I like road trips and tornadoes,” Noel answered, simply. “I went to college with a plan to get a business degree or something, but I actually went chasing for the first time after my freshman year, kind of fell into it, and switched my major to geology after that.”

Adam sat back. “Wicked.”

The waitress came back with the bill, and they all threw down a little cash, before wandering back out to the truck. Behind the storm, the sky was clear and dark, a few stars winking over the light pollution. Noel looked up as they crossed the parking lot and sighed. “You know that’s the thing about Montana. It really does have a sky you don’t get anywhere else. Figuratively speaking.”

“My Dad took me out to Colorado once,” Lucky said, conversationally. “We were out at some base in the middle of nowhere. The stars were insane - you could see the milky way and everything. Back home, there’s so much light pollution you’re lucky if you see enough stars to count on two hands.” He sighed, wistful. “Sometimes I think I might move out this way after school. I’m sick of DC, anyway.”

“Can’t imagine it’s a quiet place to live,” Rachael said sympathetically. “And if you’re looking to study meteorology it’s nice to have it closer to your backyard, so to speak. ‘Course, if you stay in Washington, maybe you could lobby against climate change.” Lucky made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, and stuck out his tongue. “Or not. Just a thought.”

“No way. I’m over it. The whole DC rat-race.” He waved his arms, and then hauled the door to the back seat of the truck open. “Forget it.” Once in the truck, he looked across the back seat to Adam, who was fiddling with his seatbelt in the dark. “What about you, Adam? You think you wanna stay in England?”

“Oh, yeah,” Adam replied, without ever even having to think about it. He had, after all, made up his mind about that ages ago. “I like to travel and everything, though, so it’d be cool to find some job where you get to travel a bit. But yeah, Tadfield’ll always be home for sure.”

“That’s cool.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, wiping the last remnants of chicken grease off on his shorts. “Is it a big place?”

Adam shook his head. “Oh, no. Few hundred people at the outside. But it’s close to Oxford, and not all that far from London, so it’s kind of the best of both worlds, I guess.” He looked out of the window, and tried to ignore the feeling of homesickness then - definitely not hunger anymore, no way it could be after that burger.

There was quiet for a minute, and then, gently, Rachael said, “Have you ever been away from home this long before?”

“No,” he answered, automatically, and then he flinched, glad for the darkness and the fact that his face was turned away from Lucky. He wasn’t ashamed that he hadn’t traveled for six weeks before, not at all, but he didn’t want the other guy to think he was some homesick little kid. “No,” he decided, going on as if he was bored with the subject, “but I’ve gone away for a couple weeks before, on holiday.”

“Six weeks is a long time,” Rachael answered, tone neutral. “I guess if we’re not going to be chasing tomorrow you’ll have time to call England at a reasonable hour, though, so there’s something, right?” She cracked the laptop open and smiled in the soft glow of the screen. “Silver lining in every cloud, right?”

“You see clouds?” Lucky leaned around the seat a little to get a better look.

“Not a one.”

-

When they arrived in Kansas City, the sun had long-since set, and the lights of the city illuminated the sky with a soft glow. They found a hotel on the outskirts of the city, cheap and clean, and parted ways to crash for the evening. Adam was looking forward to a quick shower and the soft embrace of a hotel mattress, but as he started to unpack for the night it appeared Lucky had other plans.

“So what do you think we should do tomorrow?”

“Huh? Oh. I dunno. What do you want to do?”

Lucky thought it over. “Dunno. We could just wander around the city, I guess. Oh, there’s an amusement park. You like rollercoasters?”

“They’re cool.” Adam shrugged. “Any museums or anything? Or like, barbecue?”

“Oh, a barbecue tour. Might be cool.” He tapped at his phone for a while, and scratched his beard thoughtfully. “What about this haunted building walking tour?”

“Oh yeah? Sounds awesome, actually. I’d be up for it.”

Lucky put his head to the side. “Yeah, I guess the Mormons were big around here for awhile? Oh, man, if we had a car we could take a day trip to the Garden of Eden, apparently.”

That drew a laugh out of Adam. “The Garden of Eden?” he asked, incredulous. “In driving distance? What is it, like a religious amusement park or something?”

“No, no, some people believe that the Garden of Eden was here in Missouri.” He giggled. “I always heard Eden was in the middle east or whatever. Like Mesopotamia area. Guess it could have been in Missouri though. Why not? No one really knows.”

Adam laughed. “I dunno, maybe someone does.”

“What, you know some immortals?” Lucky grinned. “Or what, wizards? Is Hogwarts real? I mean, I did move away when I was eleven, I could have missed my Hogwarts letter.”

“Never been to Hogwarts, nah. But you never know.” He shrugged. “All kinds of scholars figure it’s in the middle east. Maybe one of ‘em has an inside line, you know?”

“To who? God?”

Adam smirked. “You never know. Anyway, I’m gonna grab a shower. I’m in for the ghost tour thing tomorrow, though - sounds awesome.”

“You think they’re real?” The question stopped Adam halfway to the bathroom. “Ghosts, that is.”

Adam considered it. He could be honest**, of course, but then would Lucky think he was weird? But then the other boy had been the one to bring up the ghosts up in the first place. He chewed it over for a second, and then shrugged again. “Yeah.”

[** Not completely honest. There were things that he would always leave out. Being the actual Antichrist, for one.]

“Same.” He frowned. “I mean, I’ve never seen one, but there’s so many people that believe they exist, and that they’ve seen them, there has to be something to it, right?”

“Well …” Adam chewed his lip, and then, after a second, smiled. “Alright, maybe, yeah, but to play devil’s advocate for a minute, what if it’s not ghosts at all, but a totally natural phenomenon? Infrasound, or something?”

Lucky cocked his head. “Huh? What’s that?”

Adam looked to the shower, and then tossed his pajamas into the bathroom, haphazard on the tile floor, before he turned back around and headed to sit on his bed, legs crossed and leaned back, across from Lucky. He raised an eyebrow. “Infrasound. Supposedly can make people see and hear and thing all kinds of stuff. Hallucinations and everything.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Lucky tossed his phone aside and fixed Adam with his full attention. “It can make people see ghosts?”

Adam grinned, wide and wicked. “You ever heard of the incident at Dyatlov Pass?”

“No. Is it weird?” Adam nodded. “Cool?” Another nod. “Mysterious?” A very affirmative nod. “Dude, tell me everything.”

Adam did. The pajamas sat, forgotten, on the bathroom floor, until the early hours of the morning, while the boys chattered on.

-

“Independence, Missouri.” The 4-Runner’s brakes didn’t dare squeak as it pulled to a stop. The engine hushed and shut off, and Crowley and Aziraphale sat for a long minute, staring out of the dark windshield to a field lit only by the car’s headlights. They didn’t need them, so Crowley shut them off too. “City of Zion,” Aziraphale observed, dryly. “Site of the Garden of Eden, they say.”

“I don’t remember all the corn,” Crowley said. Aziraphale didn’t respond, instead opening his door and stepping out of the car, into the humid night air. Above, the stars that managed to shine in spite of the light pollution glimmered weakly through the gaps in the clouds. 

Aziraphale surveyed the field below them, and when he spoke again, it was in a language so long-dead that Crowley had to scramble to figure out what he was saying, at first. But it surprised him, eventually, how easily it came back, how it rolled off his tongue when he replied, like it had never died, never been shattered to the four corners when the Tower fell.

“It’s funny, how they think, don’t you think?” The angel chuckled a little. “Wonder what our lives would have been like if it had really been here, don’t you?”

Crowley was silent for a second, and then Aziraphale looked over, surprised, as a skinny elbow dug into his ribs. “Maybe I’d have been a corn snake.”

“Crowley,” he admonished, while the demon burst out into laughter. “You’re speaking a dead language that’s not been heard in thousands of years, and you make a pun? Have some respect.”

“I never will.” He ran his hands through his hair, still snickering. “If the Garden was actually in Missouri …” He sighed. “Well, for one, we’d have different accents.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” He left the demon to his own devices for a minute, giggling and making terrible puns in a tongue long-forgotten, and instead looked over the cornfield, flat and stretched out across the plains. On the other side, he could just hear the sound of running water.

“Oy, angel.” Startled, Azirpahale looked to Crowley, wide-eyed. The other was watching him, and because his sunglasses were perched on his head, sending Crowley’s mess of red hair in all sorts of directions, Aziraphale could see his eyes properly. He looked amused, most of all, but somewhere in there he was watching Aziraphale carefully. Thoughtful. “What’re you thinking about?”

“The Garden. The real Garden.” He looked around, the creatures of the night crying and squeaking and chirping all around. “Do you think, Crowley, that if it had been here - really, in real life - things would have gone the same?”

Crowley puffed out a breath, thoughtful. “Deep, angel. S’a big question. You’re giving everything a whole new beginning, for a start. It’s all so big, an’ ineffable, hard to know, isn’t it?”

“The ineffable plan might have stayed the same.”

Crowley shifted uncomfortably. “It … would be different though, wouldn’t it? It’d have to be. The Garden is in a whole different place.”

“Not necessarily. What happened in the Garden probably didn’t happen just because the Garden was where it was. It happened because of the plan -”

“Oh, sod the plan,” Crowley said with a disgusted noise. “It happened because Eve wanted to know what else was out there, and Adam agreed with her. And She made it easy for them to find out, in a way.” He pointed upwards, to where the moon was trying to peek through the wispy layer of clouds left behind from the day’s storms. “Could have always put it up there.” He snorted. “She never had a plan, she just set the pieces out and let them fall where they did.”

Aziraphale scowled in the way he always did when his disagreed, and disapproved, but he didn’t say anything about it. It was an argument they had had time and time again - Aziraphale arguing that the plan is ineffable and therefore extant but not anything either he or Crowley would ever be able to understand, and Crowley arguing that there was no plan to begin with, and She was ad-libbing and rolling with the hits as they came - and he didn’t feel like having it tonight. Instead, he re-set his expression to a more neutral, thoughtful one, and slid his hand into Crowley’s. The demon, wordlessly, squeezed it. “What about us?”

Crowley looked surprised. “What about us?” He shifted nervously onto his heels, and then laced his fingers through Aziraphale’s, the better to keep his balance.

“Would we have turned out the same, do you think?”

“I …” Crowley trailed off. He thought. Aziraphale let him, and stood beside him in companionable silence, trying to corral his own ideas about that question into something he might be able to elucidate. “Depends,” Crowley decided, eventually. “I’d have still done the bit at the start of it all, but after that …” He fixed Azirpahale with a curious expression. “Would you have still given away your sword?”

It was a question Aziraphale hadn’t expected, only because the answer to it was so obvious. He blinked. “Of course.”

The demon nodded, satisfied. “Then angel, I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth to find out what you were going to do next, no matter where we started.” He squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. “So we’d probably have ended up just the same.”

The thought of it made the angel smile, and he stepped closer to Crowley, standing close enough that their shoulders bumped and settled together, close and familiar and soft in spite of Crowley’s bony joints. “With different accents.”

“Well, yeah. With different accents. Naturally.”

-

Now with Chapter 10!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #adam young #warlock dowling #crowley #aziraphale #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #the one where they go to america

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Suneel Gupta had his bags packed, ready to go to Washington. It was the night of Nov. 8, 2016, and Gupta, then a tech entrepreneur, was itching to leave the Bay Area and begin a new job in the Clinton White House.

“I got asked to lead up Hillary’s Office of Science and Technology Policy for the transition,” he told me. “Literally election night, I’m watching the results come in. Watching them with my wife, who is nine months pregnant with our second daughter. The next morning, I’m supposed to be on a plane, ready to go … get my marching orders.”

He calls it the shortest job of his life.

Gupta is a computer programmer who has worked as head of product development for Groupon and Mozilla and founded an app-based preventive health care company with his older brother, the neurosurgeon and medical reporter Sanjay Gupta. The Clinton job was supposed to be the next step in his career. But instead of flying out, Gupta spent the next morning unpacking and figuring out what he should do next. Today, he’s running for Congress in Michigan’s 11th District, where he grew up and now lives — one of five Democrats vying for the opportunity to flip a seat that has been solidly Republican for the past 53 years.1

When Gupta tells this story, he presents his run as the logical next step. The Clinton transition job disintegrates in front of his eyes on TV … and yada yada yada … he’s a candidate for Congress.

It’s possible it would have felt that natural, that obvious, to him after any election year. But 2016 wasn’t just any election year for scientists. Between Gupta’s personal Point A and Point B, there’s been a whole atlas of cultural movement among scientists, technologists, engineers, and mathematicians, drawing them out of labs and startups and into politics. Thousands of STEM workers and their supporters marched on Washington to protest funding cuts and what they saw as a lack of respect for scientific expertise. Some scientists took it further, forming a political action committee to train and raise money for “science candidates” — a broad category that includes people with experience in research science, science education, engineering and technology jobs. That pro-science PAC, 314 Action, counted more than 300 people with STEM backgrounds who ran or are running for public office at all levels of government — 66 for federal-level and gubernatorial seats. Gupta is one of those 66.

Science has never truly been separate from the political system that funds it and uses the tools it creates. But scientists have not traditionally pushed so hard to make that relationship explicit, or to be the ones in charge of it. In the past, said Shaughnessy Naughton, the former chemist who founded 314 Action, scientists have sort of believed that they could just put the facts out there and the evidence would speak for itself. Before this, it had been rare for scientists to get involved in politics. “But it’s clear now that politicians are unashamed to meddle in science. And the way to push back is getting scientists elected. We have to have a place at the table,” she said.

When Gupta tries to win the Aug. 7 Democratic primary in the Michigan 11th, he won’t be just a lone guy with a science background running for Congress — a single data point, if you will. Instead, he’s part of a much larger sample — dozens of people trying to grant science some political power. It’s not clear that a commitment to STEM will help him win, though, nor is it clear what happens if Gupta and other science candidates do make it into office. That could mean more evidence-based policy — or more well-intentioned newbie politicians absorbed into the same old political machine. It could mean newfound respect (and research dollars) for science. Or it could turn “science” into a dog-whistle word for “liberal.”

Nobody knows what the result will be. There’s a word for what Gupta is running in this election, and it’s not “campaign.” It’s “experiment.”

“Who are we as Democrats?” asks Lisa Dirato, a liberal activist and a research chemist. At her kitchen table, in a neighborhood of manicured lawns, gabled porticos and brick facades near Northville, Michigan, Dirato hashed out for me how she was going to make her decision for the primary. Usually, she said, Democrats are lucky to get one person to run, let alone a crowd. It was a rare experience to choose, rather than accept. And she had some specific qualities she wanted to see in her choice. “[Democrats] have empathy, we care about people and we believe government can make people’s lives better,” she said. “When I listen to candidates, that’s what I’m listening for.”

“Are you listening for science at all?” I asked her.

“Um. You know, not really. And I’m a scientist. That’s my day job,” Dirato said. “I can’t even tell you why.”

This is the first challenge that Gupta, and any science candidate, faces.

Whenever I spoke with voters in Michigan’s 11th District, they were all more concerned with the state of the roads we had driven on that day than with the technological decision-making behind that infrastructure.

Voters — whether in the Michigan 11th or the U.S. at large — don’t seem to view science advocacy as a primary factor in their vote choice. But it’s not for lack of respect for the sciences. For the past 40 years, while partisan divides have increased, the General Social Survey, conducted by the research organization NORC at the University of Chicago, shows that trust in science remained about the same and that the scientific community is the second-most trusted institution in the country, after the military. And you’d expect even more excitement for science candidates in the Democratic Party, whose voters, Pew Research data suggests, are a little more trusting of scientists and a lot more supportive of federal funding for scientific research.

In practice, though, the science candidates’ results have been mixed. Of the 23 federal-level candidates originally endorsed by 314 Action, nine have made it past their primaries (one ran unopposed), nine lost, and five primaries (including Gupta’s) are still to come. Results for unendorsed science candidates have also been muddled. And in an ongoing Gallup poll that asks about the most important issues facing American society, few of the issues identified are particularly science related. It’s pretty clear that science isn’t going to be a single-issue vote for the left as, say, abortion is for some conservatives.

Nevertheless, Gupta thinks there’s a good case for why voters should want more people with science backgrounds walking the halls of Congress. While driving between apartment complexes, delivering Meals on Wheels to housebound residents of Waterford, Michigan, he talked to me about the way Congress is called to make decisions and explore alternatives to problems — choices that often involve some level of technology. “To understand these alternatives and how they best serve the American people, you have to know what is happening underneath the covers and be able to ask the right questions,” Gupta said. “When you don’t have a Congress that’s informed, what ends up happening is that it follows the directions, very much, of the special interests.”

But whenever I spoke with voters in Michigan’s 11th District — whether they leaned Democrat or Republican — they were all more concerned with the state of the roads we had driven on that day than with the technological decision-making behind that infrastructure. That lack of interest in Gupta’s tech expertise might make it hard for him to win the primary — without it, there’s not much to make him stand out from the pack. “I don’t think he’s found a breakthrough issue yet that separates him enough from the other candidates,” said Bill Joyner, a former county commissioner who served in part of the 11th District and remains involved in Democratic politics in the area. Most Democrats I spoke to told me they were still undecided in mid-July. Recent polling commissioned by the Detroit Free Press placed Gupta in third, 7 percentage points behind the front-runner, state Rep. Tim Greimel.

But if he can win the primary, Gupta has figured out a way he might be able to make his science background work for him in the general election — not by appealing to science, but by tapping into a growing interest in outsider politicians.

Student science, technology, engineering and math clubs are friendly ground for Gupta, who has been visiting groups throughout the district for months. He’s after the young members’ votes, of course. But he’s also there in the hopes of inspiring the next generation of science candidates — during a visit to the Oakland Community College STEMulated Club in Auburn Hills, Gupta asked club members about whether they might run for office someday.

“I’m not a politician,” said Jaquan Brown, a computer science student who is spending his summer working on a project modeling wind patterns.

“Hey, neither am I!” Gupta replied.

That’s a message Gupta took everywhere — from that left-leaning college STEM club to an eagle-festooned room full of stone-faced retirees. “I’m not a politician, I’m a problem-solver.” To Gupta, science can bridge the gap between the left and the right — but so can dissatisfaction with political insiders. And while science doesn’t seem to be shifting elections, a general dislike for experienced politicians does.

What’s important in voters’ minds is that politicians haven’t held elected office before.

Incumbency is still the primary factor that determines whether a candidate will win an election, said Sarah Treul, a professor of political science at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. But when there is no incumbent running — as is the case in the 11th — Treul’s research shows that it’s increasingly likely that the person with the least experience holding public office will walk away with the prize. These winners are seldom total political novices. They’ve worked on campaigns or they had been activists, or even just big donors, in the past. That’s true for Gupta (a former White House intern under Bill Clinton and a volunteer for the Obama campaign), as well as several other Democratic and Republican candidates for the 11th District seat.

But what’s important in voters’ minds is that politicians haven’t held elected office before, Treul said. These kinds of candidates always did better with Republican voters than Democratic voters, but Treul’s data shows that, since about 2008, the percentage of primaries won by inexperienced candidates has increased substantially for Republicans. “Republicans have clearly capitalized on that, going all the way to the president,” she said. “Politician is a dirty word.”

The filthiness of professional politicians came up in many conversations that I had with voters in the 11th District, and both Democratic and Republican activists in the district told me they expected an outsider to win the general election. The last two people to hold this congressional seat were first elected to Congress as novices. So it makes sense that Gupta’s stump speech highlights his outsider status in multiple ways. He’s not a politician — he’s a problem-solver who knows how to use technology to create practical solutions for tough problems. He’s not a politician — he’s a job creator who ran a successful startup firm. He’s not a politician — the only PAC he’s accepted money from is 314 Action.

That could help him in a general election in a Republican-leaning district. Gupta told me he thinks it could help him even in the primary, though that’s less clear. Democrats don’t have as strong of an attraction towards inexperienced candidates — take Greimel’s lead in the primary as an example. But to Gupta, the real fight in American politics isn’t between Democrats and Republicans, it’s between average voters and the powerful special interests that professional politicians represent. In his vision, science and evidence are a thing the warring parties can agree on, and then use to fight the real enemy.

There are real-world examples of science being exactly the kind of cross-party bridge builder that Gupta wants it to be. On July 23, U.S. Rep. Carlos Curbelo of Florida introduced a bill to create a market-driven carbon tax as a solution to climate change. Curbelo is a Republican, and he’s a member of the bipartisan Climate Solutions Caucus — 86 representatives, evenly split among Republicans and Democrats, all dedicated to advancing climate legislation.

If Gupta and the organizers of the March for Science were granted one wish from a bipartisan fairy, climate legislation championed by lawmakers on both sides of the aisle would be it. But all the results of the politicization of science haven’t exactly been the stuff of scientific fantasy.

Science can polarize people, as well as bring them together. The 2017 March for Science exacerbated — rather than healed — partisan divides, according to a survey published in the journal Political Science and Politics by Matthew Motta, a postdoctoral fellow in the science of science communication at the University of Pennsylvania. “In the aftermath, conservatives became more negative towards scientists and the science community, and so did moderates. But liberals became more positive,” Motta told me. Conservatives were more likely to believe scientists were out for personal gain after the march; liberals, less likely.

While there is evidence that science can be a unifying force that all Americans trust, there’s also evidence that — particularly on specific issues — Americans increasingly have polarized ideas about who “science” serves and what “evidence-based” means. For instance, while the General Social Survey shows that overall public trust in science has held fairly constant since 1974, it also shows conservatives losing that trust. While conservatives once had the most trust in science, relative to liberals and moderates, they now have the least. Meanwhile, congressional voting records on environmental issues became significantly more polarized after 1990, with Republicans increasingly likely to vote against anything tainted green. And there is evidence of strong ties between science and the political left. Fifty-two percent of scientists self-report as liberal, for instance, while just 9 percent call themselves conservative. (Those numbers are even less balanced in some social sciences, like psychology.) And most political donations from scientists go to Democrats.

Science is a uniter. Science is a divider. Science is a political Schrödinger’s cat.

Matthew Wilk, a Republican activist from the Michigan 11th, told me that evidence and data do matter to the decision-making process among conservative lawmakers. He’d seen that when he was a member of the Northville School Board. He and other conservative lawmakers were hungry for data, he told me. But they didn’t necessarily want academics to interpret that data. They’d rather just get raw numbers and draw their own conclusions because they didn’t trust academia to play fair. “It’s seen as biased towards Democrats,” Wilk said.

The movement to get scientist-politicians on the ballot probably hasn’t helped that perception. The 314 Action PAC endorsed candidates for all levels of public office — from state legislatures on up — and every person they chose was a Democrat. “I wouldn’t say it’s an indictment of science that scientists are running more as Democrats,” Naughton said. “It’s an indictment of Republican Party platform. It’s a real shame.”

But it’s incorrect to think of Democrats as “good” on science and Republicans as “bad” on it, Motta said. Surveys show that, by and large, liberals are more supportive of scientific research funding. “But in many ways, liberals and conservatives don’t look all that different,” he said. “They just differ in which types of scientific conclusions they don’t accept.”

There’s knowing that science isn’t a partisan issue intellectually, though, and then there’s feeling it. Politics is more about the gut than the brain. Today, on both sides of the aisle, tummies are rumbling.

“Ironically, we’re in this mess because we allowed science to be politicized,” said Caroline Weinberg, one of the founders of the March for Science. “It’s a problem if what we’re doing to resist that is furthering politicization instead of reducing it.”

This is where Gupta’s attempt to intertwine politics and science becomes an experiment as much as a campaign. Gupta talks about the importance of sharing evidence and learning. But twice on the campaign trail, Democratic supporters brought up fears about genetically modified food that aren’t supported by scientific evidence. And Gupta didn’t correct them. Instead, he pivoted to related issues of food security and safety that were less controversial. Politics might not be the best place to use science to change things people know with their guts.

What you’re left with is a bunch of facts that don’t quite add up to an evidence-based path to political success. The American people really do trust scientific expertise. But having scientific expertise doesn’t seem to be a major factor in how they vote. Americans across the political spectrum still agree on science more than we disagree. But the same surveys show that partisan divides on science exist, and every time someone runs a political campaign using science as an issue, it could be contributing to a growing divide — making it harder for science to function as a nonpartisan problem-solver in the future. Science is a uniter. Science is a divider. Science is a political Schrödinger’s cat.

For now, all Gupta can do is hope the beast is alive and well when the box opens. Which, for him, means continuing to push on the idea that he’s not a politician. He’s something else, and he can bridge divides. It’s an appealing message, said Maggie Peyton, a retiree to whom Gupta delivered a Meals on Wheels lunch one afternoon. “You’re almost talking my platform,” she told him. Though she and Gupta disagreed on abortion rights, Peyton encouraged him in his drive to get special interests out of Washington and fight career politicians. She’s one of those voters who Gupta told me he sees as a Republican with an open mind. And as he walked away from her door, pushing a cart loaded with lunch trays, Peyton waved and hollered after him.

“Don’t let politics wreck you!” she said.

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