what is this?

is it necessarily the case that the fellow on the left isn't a feminist? isn't it possible that he is, but that he's also a jerk? kinda like a lot of other feminists?

being a feminist doesn't mean you're always a nice person, just like being a skeptic doesn't mean you're always rational.

it's funny, though. i'll give it that.

the choosy warrior

i recently abandoned an on-line forum that i'd been a part of, on-and-off, for about four years. it wasn't easy to walk away, but it's been a long time coming, mostly because the atmosphere was very divisive and toxic. the political landscape in the united states is such that some americans seem to be willing to consider any tactic that might undermine their opponents. they're also quite reluctant to concede any ground to said opponents.

that's not the kind of "discussion" i'm interested in. i'm also not into being bulldozed over and interrupted whenever i try to make a point. and, finally, i've been tapping into some newfound maturity on the matter: recognizing that in some cases my contribution is either redundant or unlikely to be fruitful... and then choosing not to make that contribution.

i've also become more aware that, when it comes to real debate, i'm often most critical of people with whom i generally agree, but who are making particularly awful arguments at the moment. this is because i think they're making my fight harder by misrepresenting me and my cause. when a feminist is anti-science or a skeptic offers a facile critique of religion or a liberal calls conservatives "the reich wing," i want to puke and rebuke. i hate misogyny and blind religion and conservative rhetoric, but it doesn't burn the way bad feminism or bad skepticism or bad liberalism can.

anyway, all that to say, i'm working on being better at picking my battles. as always, thanks for listening.

p.s. here's a snippet from a recent discussion about progressive enlightenment: if a misogynistic, racist, homophobic, classist idiot stops being classist, that's a step in the right direction.

1913 - 2010

i stopped checking messages because i didn't want to hear the news without my parents. i lay in bed last night, and i thought, "what if he's already gone?"

and, as it turned out, he was.

"ninety-seven is a ripe old age" but you always hope for more time, more opportunities to be together.

it's weird to hear other people talk about him, to read news coverage that describes him as a national figure, a party leader, a signatory on an important letter... he's just papaşa.

a letter

dear luck,

you may remember that i invoked you in a brief message to idris, dated 13 may 2010. it's attached below, but basically in that missive i articulated my anticipation of your impending successful navigation to his doorstep.

and, within a week, he had both a job offer and an interview for another job! now, that's some kind of successful navigation! well done, you! your orienteering skills are second to none!

in recent weeks, you have also taken the time to visit both of my brothers-in-law and my younger sister. you've been very busy and even on two continents your knack for finding folks has proven itself flawless. i certainly appreciate your timely arrival at the doorsteps of people about whom i care so deeply. as you well know, i'm a big fan of yours and these particular people deserve all the you in the world.

but, dear luck, i occasionally worry that you have lost your way en route to me. i feel i've completed all the necessary preparations for your arrival - laid out all your favourite fingerfoods, put fresh linens in the guestroom, and all that - but, alas, i have yet to be honoured by your presence.

are you lost? because if you're using mapquest that could be the problem right there. sometimes that site is a little misleading. maybe you should try googlemaps. and turn the gps on, just to be on the safe side. please?

was it something i did? 'cause whatever it was, i'm sorry. i hope you can forgive me and we can move past this soon. to be honest, hard work, perseverance, and wit have done all they can, and it's really starting to look like it's sort of up to you now.

somewhat-patiently, ever-hopefully, a-little-bit-desperately,
~m


----------
to: idris
from: ~m
sent: 13.05.2010, 9:45 p.m.

luck will find you.

can't believe the news today

i want my city back.

read more here.

di: id

this is my boyfriend.

in addition to being awesome in countless ways that matter to me, idris is awesome in ways that are relevant to and have come to the attention of a mathematics department at a university in the mid-atlantic. i bought him the flowers to celebrate the long-awaited job offer - they're tiger lilies, 'cause he's a fan of cats. so much a fan is he that he just happened to be wearing the tiger beer shirt at the time!

this is my boyfriend and a delicious trio of chocolate desserts we shared just before we took turns crying a little.

he's been waiting for a career opportunity like this one for a long time, but the mid-atlantic is a bit farther away from me than we're used to. so, that's tough... but it's only tough because he's special. and having someone special is very, very good.

:)

from way across the ocean, my little sissy asked me why i was smiling. in response, i offer this partial list of my reasons for glee:

- haircuts
- sushi
- defenses and convocations
- job postings and auditions
- pub trivia successes
- a mom who takes care of me when i sacrifice part of my finger to the mandolin* gods
- a boyfriend who listens and is teaching me when to stop talking
- friends who have big! changes! going on in their lives
- the impending return of little sissy and her husband!
- seeing nyc for the first time soon
- big sissy's wedding in june!
- cats
- diet coke
- phone calls with michelle
- apples and peanut butter
- a pink sweater
- dibs

oooh... dibs! see ya!

* the vegetable slicer, not the musical instrument

options

a friend of a friend, on facebook: pro-choice has ALWAYS been code for pro-abortion. They use those words to make what is absolutely horrifically murder, a more palatable swallow.

me: friendofafriend, respectfully, along with being unfair and untrue, your statement is quite offensive.

the right of a mother to make medical decisions about her own body and that of her unborn child, in consultation with a doctor, is much more complicated than you make it seem.

while i don't advocate abortion, i'm humble enough to admit that i can't possibly imagine the painful burden of hearing that my baby will suffer tremendously if carried to term. or of being a pregnant fifteen-year-old living in a broken, abusive home. or being diagnosed with cancer the same month i find out i'm pregnant.

that's why i'm pro-choice.

if we were sitting across from each other over coffee right now, could you honestly tell me to my face that you suspect i'm just a really big fan of murder?

way too many abortions happen every day. demonizing people like me won't actually solve that devastating problem.

can't believe the news today

apart from a brief mention of my disappointment with the possibility that our military might have enabled afghani authorities to torture suspected terrorists (read: random people), i haven't talked a lot about international affairs lately.  i want to take a minute to mention what happened on friday.

on 29 january 2010, around 9:45 est, the supreme court of canada handed down its ruling on the omar khadr case. this young man has been held by american authorities since he was fifteen. he is canadian-born, but was taken to afghanistan by his father at the age of 11. four years later, in 2002, during a skirmish with american forces in afghanistan, he was shot and then allegedly threw a hand grenade, killing an american soldier. (that soldier had medical training, so this is often reported as the murder of an american medic.)

since he has been in guantanamo, khadr has been tortured. the canadian government, under both the liberals and the conservatives, has been mostly silent on the matter. they did go and interrogate him early on, while he was victim to the "frequent flyer" program - being shifted from room to room every few hours so that you can't actually sleep. ever. so, when canada was involved, it tacitly endorsed the treatment he was receiving.

given the fact that he has been held for seven years *without trial*, it should come as no surprise that there has been a movement to seek khadr's repatriation. his lawyers are, of course, part of that movement. intervening in the case on his behalf were:

amnesty international, human rights watch, the university of toronto faculty of law, international human rights program, david asper centre for constitutional rights, canadian coalition for the rights of children, justice for children and youth, british columbia civil liberties association, criminal lawyers' association, canadian bar association, lawyers without borders canada, barreau du quebec, group d'etude en droits et libertes de la faculte de droit de l'universite laval, canadian civil liberties association, and national council for the protection of canadians abroad.

all bleeding hearts? i think not.

the issue is complicated: does a fifteen-year-old qualify as a child soldier when war hasn't been declared and when he's not wearing a uniform? will khadr face trial if he is repatriated? is it within the scc's jurisdiction to intervene in "foreign affairs"?

on friday, the supreme court of canada held that khadr's charge against the canadian government was sound:

"Canada actively participated in a process contrary to its international human rights obligations and contributed to K’s ongoing detention so as to deprive him of his right to liberty and security of the person, guaranteed by s. 7 of the Charter, not in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice...There is a sufficient connection between the government’s participation in the illegal process and the deprivation of K’s liberty and security of the person.  While the U.S. is the primary source of the deprivation, it is reasonable to infer from the uncontradicted evidence before the Court that the statements taken by Canadian officials are contributing to K’s continued detention.  The deprivation of K’s right to liberty and security of the person is not in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice.  The interrogation of a youth detained without access to counsel, to elicit statements about serious criminal charges while knowing that the youth had been subjected to sleep deprivation and while knowing that the fruits of the interrogations would be shared with the prosecutors, offends the most basic Canadian standards about the treatment of detained youth suspects."

(the full decision can be found here! i urge you to read it!)

i have seen several troubling things happen in my country over the last few years. our prime minister pretends to be "tough on crime" and does what he can to take away judges' discretion. for instance, he advocated for minimum sentences in child molestation cases. when some people (i.e. the bloc quebecois) disagreed with him, he used *government funds* to paint them as pedophile sympathizers. never mind that lots of legal authorities have problems with the whole idea of minimum sentences!

harper has also undermined judges' discretion by introducing "truth in sentencing" legislation. judges would no longer be permitted to give (up to) 2-for-1 credit for time already served while awaiting trial. this is time that *alleged* criminals spend in *crowded, unsanitary* conditions, while they are *presumed innocent.* one of the functions of the 2-for-1 credit is to create a powerful disincentive for prosecutorial stalling. it helps ensure a speedy(ish) trial - a right guaranteed to all those charged under canadian law.

but, no.

also, maybe the state has the right to seek out your internet browsing history without a warrant.

also, maybe csis can tap your lawyer's phones and monitor your calls.

also, we may or may not have been involved in the torture of afghanis... but it doesn't really matter.

i don't recognize us anymore! when g.w. bush was re-elected, i was agog. if we let the same thing happen, i will actually weep. but i feel like this shouldn't have to wait until an election, you know? somehow, we have to care enough about justice today.

only... how?

(photo from theglobeandmail.com)

by contrast...

... i don't always have a lot of faith in myself. it's not my abilities (in the abstract sense) that i question, but my trustworthiness with deadlines. i don't know if it's laziness or fear or sheer overwhelmedness... probably a combination of all three.

someone - maybe dr. phil - said that just as you stop trusting people when they keep failing you, you also lose trust in yourself if you keep making promises you don't keep. i'm very bad at being disciplined. i shouldn't even be blogging right now.

but, come hell or high water, my first complete draft is due in ten days. i always say things will get done on time "because they have to." but, really, *i* should get them done because *i* have to. this isn't my thesis' responsibility, but mine. and it's a really daunting responsibility, in terms of its scope and volume and significance.

i'm at the 36,000 word mark.
i know all things are possible.
i know that i have the data.
i know that i can write.
i know that this is important.
and i know that no one is going to do it for me.

i want to have reason to trust myself again.

education causes cancer, but only in women

tonight i attended greg mortenson's lecture at the the toronto reference library. for an hour or so, he talked about how he started his pennies for peace initiative, which builds schools in afghanistan and pakistan. (here's an article about his ongoing work!) he emphasized the impact educating children can have on a community, and came back again and again to the importance of giving girls in particular access to schooling.

this wasn't brand new to me. campaigns like because i am a girl also make the argument that "when you educate a boy, you educate an individual; when you educate a girl, you educate a community" (african proverb cited by mortenson tonight).

in the part of the world in which mortenson is investing, this plays out in at least one amazing way: educated women are less likely to grant their sons permission to join tribal gangs or terrorist cells. because their culture is built around the importance of a mother's blessing, educating girls will have a marked impact on the recruitment of young men into such enterprises. yay!

but here's what really grabbed me by the (proverbial) collar and shook me: mortenson said that the education of girls in bangladesh coincided with a drop from 8 births per woman to 2.8 births per woman, over her lifetime. actually, he claimed that it caused the drop.

again, this wasn't earth-shattering by itself. there are a couple of options here: either this education includes some information about birth control, or educated women get married later (if at all) and pursue careers alongside child-rearing, or a (liberalized) community that values the education of girls doesn't tend to treat women like baby-makers... or (my guess) some combination thereof. education and industrialization/ urbanization go hand in hand and i suspect that the latter always lead to smaller families.

the thing is... cancer. i've been reading malcolm gladwell's what the dog saw, which is a collection of his best essays (according to him) from the new yorker. between insights into the clairol/l'oreal hair-dye market and an investigation into dog whispering (the title of the book came from the latter) is john rock's error,which describes the limitations of the birth control pill, the impact of modern medicine and lifestyles on female physiology, and the danger of too many periods.

yes, dangers. see, because today's woman starts menstruating earlier than ever before and spends fewer years of their lives pregnant or breastfeeding than ever before, she ends up ovulating many, many more times than her ancestors did. like 400 times, compared to 100. one result seems to be an increased risk of ovarian cancer, endometriosis, endometrial cancer, and other "below the belt" diseases.

simply put, both ovulation and the preparation of the uterus for pregnancy are processes which involve cell division. the more division, the higher the statistical probability of something going wrong... and cell division gone wrong is a loose definition of cancer. studies suggest that each full-term pregnancy reduces a woman's chance of ovarian cancer by 10%. when taken over a long period of time, birth control pills also go a long way to protecting against some of the perils of modern life.*

there's a lot behind this argument, and i encourage you to read gladwell's piece on this, if you have a chance. (the whole thing is available at the link above!) but the bottom line is this: a society in which women are educated is one in which they tend to menstruate much more often... and in which they will therefore be at far greater risk of developing cancer.

all things being the same, that average bangladeshi woman was about 41% less likely to develop ovarian cancer when she was having eight kids.

so this is the inconvenient truth: our biology is not only confused, but also endangered, by our self-made destiny.


* because the birth control pill suppresses ovulation but still leads to a period, the risk of endometrial cancer is not much diminished. read gladwell's fascinating piece to find out why the stupid 28-day cycle was maintained by the co-inventor of the pill, john rock.

don't look back in anger

when i filled out my law school application, i had to spend a little time on my first attempt at an undergrad degree. i dropped all but one of my classes in second year, then did a summer course, then failed all four of my third-year courses. this required some words. as a result, i thought a lot about the crisis of 2001 - how my family imploded, how my younger sister and i faced new and daunting financial responsibilities, how we both felt abandoned and hopeless, and how no one seemed to understand.

i remember walking around chinatown one day and suddenly realizing what had happened. it was more than three months later.

despite the religious aspects of this event, christian friends didn't seem to get it. there was a lot of material support, but people didn't seem to have any sort of lens through which they could clearly see what we were going through. despite knowing me for many years, my high school friends didn't get it, either. and they seemed to disappear. after my sister and i found an apartment, most of my friends didn't come to the housewarming. people from university came, but they mostly didn't know why we were in a new place. in fact, i don't think anyone has ever responded to this part of my life in a way that implies "getting it." my sister and i feel very differently about that moment of decision, so not even she understands it the way i do.

it's very hard for me not to be angry, even eight years later. and it's hard for me not to read that same pain into contemporary instances of feeling alone. we all have our own lives to lead, and we rarely spend too much time thinking about what the "minor characters" in our stories are doing when they're not in the same scenes as us. back then, we were busy with complicated romantic relationships, we were coming out of the closet, we were trying to figure out what our studies had to do with the rest of our lives, we had our own part-time jobs to deal with, we had other friends... and now we have relatives who are lonely or in poor health, jet lag, spouses, work and financial stresses, and other friends.

i guess i just always hoped that we would also have each other. and that, somehow, that would be enough to help us "get it."

globu, globu!

my chubby fingers reached for the christmas ornament and mom tentatively placed the shiny sphere in my hand. within seconds, it was on the ground, in pieces. to this day, whenever i reach for something delicate, i hear mom’s singsong voice: globu, globu! it reminds me that, as a two-year-old, i begged for and was entrusted with a treasure, only to fail miserably as its steward.

the 26-year gap between that christmas and today seems to have done little to shake the feeling that i cannot handle the fragile. it is enough to make me hesitate before i reach out. i pause for a moment and consider: can't i enjoy this beautiful thing without touching it, without risking it? perhaps i can relish it by observation, rather than experience. we will both be safer that way.

even the things i love most – especially the things i love most – i am bound to be too aggressive with, to smother, to crush. my fingers are not nimble enough, my grip is too tight, and i find myself counting down to the inevitable disappointment of loss.

~ adapted from my "soul paper," 2004.

"you *have* to be kidding!"

too many mornings, those are the first words out of my mouth. it's been taking me hours to fall asleep at night and forever to wake up in the morning. my dreams have been vivid and occasionally emotionally exhausting, so i often walk through my day like a zombie. the dumb kind of zombie. the kind that thinks cauliflowers are brains. [(c) seth grahame-smith]

last night, as i lay in bed, between playing "6 degrees of separation"* and realizing that i have only two weeks to complete my first draft of my thesis, it was very hard not to wonder what my life will be like a year from now. will i be in toronto? will i be more sure of myself? will i be more disciplined? will i - dare i ask? - be happy?

anyway, i think my cell phone is beginning to resent the abuse. does anyone know a surefire way to convince the body that sleep is for nighttime and alert wakefulness is for daytime?

* for instance: at his audition for "glee," chris colfer sang "mr. cellophane" from "chicago." his character, kurt hummel, also sang that song in the pilot. how can i connect "glee" and "chicago"?

glee - jane lynch - julie and julia - stanley tucci - it could happen to you - nicholas cage - the rock - sean connery - entrapment - catherine zeta-jones chicago

nb: this was before i knew that jane lynch was in talladega nights: the ballad of ricky bobby. this piece of information would have simplified things considerably, since john c. reilly is mr. cellophane himself.

crushed

a little while ago, i wrote about the movie "the reader" and reflected on the limits of our compassion.

"sometimes we find ourselves at the end of our compassion and love. there is only so far any one of us can go, and we are, perhaps, surprised to discover we are at that border. crossing over would be right - so virtuous, so noble, so good - but it is not within our strength. we are at the end of ourselves."

it's not even always the case that you suddenly look up and realize the border lies between you and your next step. sometimes you just slam right into the brick wall that prevents you from giving more. at least i do. at least... i just did.

and it hurts. i want to be someone who can always give more... but maybe you can't achieve that without inevitably giving less. and who wants love that is a hundred miles long but only one inch deep?

a friend of mine recently asked me if there's anything i do halfway. he was referring to my hallowe'en costume (see here), but it gave me pause. when it comes to people i care about, i very rarely go halfway. i screw things up, but it usually has nothing to do with my lack of investment.

i hope... i really do hope that, one of these days, i'm going to bust a me-shaped hole right through that brick wall. but until my heart is strong enough for that, i suppose i'll have to suffer through many more bruised shins and broken noses.

for now, i'm curled up at the foot of the wall, wishing my tears could dissolve it, brick by brick.

"our best hope is to love as fiercely and give as freely as we can - as we can - and learn to forgive ourselves for the rest."

tri a little tenderness

* someone i once cared about very deeply lost a significant person in his life
* my brother-in-law didn't get the grant he was hoping for, so he and my sister are worried about their future plans to move to the uk
* my mom's highlights turned out blonder than she anticipated

i'll give you one guess as to which of the three my mother thought was worth worrying about. confession: i really don't understand.

four-thoughts

- bought a zester!
- made couscous for the first time!
- am happier with luther than i thought i'd be!
- still find time for heartache.

5

when you're sitting two feet away from someone who is stomping her feet, slapping her face and ears, trying to throw the heating vent at you, and screaming at the top of her lungs until she is in tears... five minutes feels like an eternity.


p.s.
michael: have you seen any new movies lately?
me: well... oh, i saw "17 again"!
michael: oh, so you've seen in twice already?

i love my job. there's so much laughter there. so much trust. and it brings me tremendous joy even - and maybe especially - when it's heartbreaking and terrifying.

8

i heard my mom on the phone once, finding out her friend had leukemia... nu se poate (it can't be) was all i could make out. it can't be, it can't be... but it is, you know? it's hard to escape stories of people sick and dying, people in pain, in general - i know you guys are all touched by hurt, too, whether it's your own or that of other people. it's like all that stuff in the united states of leland: if you look deep enough into anyone's eyes, it's like there's this tremendous sadness, and they're just fighting to bury it under pta meetings and card games and status reports and facebook and shoes and books and movies and garbage.

i was thinking about how irrational love can be. i was thinking about how, when i sit beside nancy and no one's at home, i ask her, "are you happy?" and there is no earthly reason to hope that she will ever be happy, let alone be able to tell me that she's happy. how love is about hoping against all odds, without ignoring the sadness. i don't know what st. paul was on about, separating faith, hope, and love. i mean, you can argue with me if you really want, but i'm pretty sure those three aren't that distinct from one another.
 
my dad and i were talking about what it would be like to actually live each day as if it were your last. i joked that your friends and relatives would finally say, "listen, i get that you love me... you don't have to call every day and spend an hour on the phone with me, telling me how much you value me. i get it, i really, really do." sometimes i wonder if anything "practical" could get done if i took love seriously. maybe what scares me most about death is that there isn't enough time to really love people. maybe the beatles were right: eight days a week is not enough to show i care.

9

it snowed this morning. and then, when i got home from work, it was freezing in my apartment. well, perhaps not quite freezing: nine degrees. i was all bundled up, to no avail. plus my internet wasn't working.

so, i'm sleeping at charbonneau house tonight! so grateful for my adopted family.