Irate

One of the things that I truly love about anthropology is that it inspires me to feel alive in an incredible way. I think that one of the most valuable things is to feel passion about your subject, as I know I've said before. Sometimes, however, this can backfire in a magnificent way.

Today in seminar one of my classmates presented on a chapter in Lancaster's Life is Hard, dealing with domestic violence and wife beating in Nicaragua. This is a pertinent topic, and one that is bound to get people talking, but I was absolutely infuriated by the approach to the issue our discussion took. The argument was that women in Nicaragua put up with the abuse because of the shortage of men, and the fear that if they report their husbands/boyfriends they will lose their economic stability. The more the discussion went on, the more enraged I got. It got to the point where I was positively twitchy, and yet I was left wondering if I was the only one seeing the embedded anti-feminist values in the discussion. No one seemed to be having the same reaction as me, they were just going along with the, in my mind, frivolous and peripheral discussion about whether in an adulterous situation the man or the other woman was to blame.

Finally the twitchiness was too much to bear and I interjected. "I take great issue," I said, "with the idea that women are excused from reporting violence because of the disparity of men. Statistically speaking, there are more women than men in Nicaragua, so statistically speaking there must be a large number of women who are somehow subsisting without men. Where are they in our discussion? How do they fit in to the local economy? How can we say that these poor Nicaraguan women who are "trapped" in abusive relationships have no alternate options? Where is this assumption that these women need their spouses coming from? Where is the assumption that women must rely on men for their livelihood originating? Shouldn't we be discussing the barriers in Nicaraguan society that are preventing women from attaining economic independence more frequently? Are we even aware that in this discussion we are completely ignoring feminist ideas of independence and the goals of emancipation? Surely as intelligent, aware anthropologists in the making we should be able to look past the surface issues of the gender relations of adultery and get at the underlying issues of empowerment and male-dominant hegemony."

There was silence. My prof was positively beaming at me. Then a friend of mine sitting directly to my left jumped in with, "Right on!" and went on to talk about the problems of defining these issues in cultural context as if there are no universal aspects. I was just about ready to kiss her, it was so much an iteration of my internal turmoil and frustration with the discussion up until that point. Unfortunately our loser class didn't seem to understand the relevance and reverted right back to comparing Nicaraguan and Canadian culture, a truly pointless undertaking filled with hearsay and virtually no academic value at all. I wanted to smack them all, repeatedly. However, I made my point, and the prof recognized it. That's got to count for something.

Personal Reasons?

I should be working on the paper that's due tomorrow, but since Rumble is insisting we have cuddle time and I can never turn down a good cuddle, I'll take the opportunity to write about something I've been meaning to write about for some time now.

I'm on the executive for the anthropology students association this year. Initially I wasn't intending on being on the board, because they were entirely unproductive, invisible, and otherwise angering last year. What is a students association, I ask, if not an opportunity to get together with peers who have a similar interest in/passion for what you study? It felt as though those on the board last year were interested only in filling space on their resumes and grad school applications. However, when I received the invite from the president to fill a new executive position I was a)flattered that he thought of me, and b)encouraged by the idea that I knew many of the other people on the exec this year as active, engaged students. I thought that perhaps there might be enough new blood to incite change. Indeed, when we originally met in September we had a fantastic meeting and got two major projects underway (one of which has now flopped, due to circumstances beyond our control. Read: another f*ing campus club).

Since then the ball has been majorly dropped. I've been working with two other girls on the exec on the major events, but everything else (movie nights, bake sales, etc) have not come to fruition. Nor have we had exec meetings, and so the team was becoming fragmented and frustrated. When our VP finally called a meeting, the president replied by saying that he didn't have time, was having personal problems, and resigned from his position. At the exec meeting today we replaced him and split the VP position between one girl (VP: Affairs) and myself (VP: Advocacy - yay new and wonderful title! oh the power...). We also arranged weekly meetings and had some serious talk time about what we were doing, where we were headed, and how everyone was feeling. While I'm now feeling much more confident about the team, this has raised two issues in my mind.

1) I really hate it when people sign up and commit to things just for resume filler. Hate it. I'm sure I've written about this previously, but if you're going to commit to something, make sure you have time and follow through. Stop being such a bunch of slackers.

2) It somehow bothers me when people pull the "personal reasons" line. Yes, granted, there are many "personal reasons" that could prevent someone from fulfilling their responsibilities and dropping the ball. Goodness knows that I've had that problem (ie: this summer - what a write-off) but I remain incredibly skeptical about the use of the phrase. I think that, unfortunately, it is often used by people when they've screwed up, taken on too much, stressed themselves to the max, and need an easy out. No one is going to push you too far for information when you drop the "personal reasons" line. It would be wholly inappropriate.

It's possible that I'm taking this too seriously because I just finished writing a paper on how noncommittal our society has become as a result of our inherent lack of honour (positive, eh?). Or perhaps I'm touchy today because I'm vastly overworked (and yet somehow am posting on blogger rather than doing schoolwork...priorities, Haley, priorities). I'd love to give this greater consideration and come up with a more coherent argument, but I just don't have time. I wonder, am I justified in this skepticism, or am I being too harsh?

Repairs, papers, and musical insanity

I've had the Barenaked Ladies song Who Needs Sleep stuck in my head for quite a while, so I decided that the solution would be to listen to it. The only problem with this is that it's on one of the few Barenaked Ladies CDs I do not have, and every time I try to procure it via the internet, I somehow end up getting the song Breakfast at Tiffany's instead - also a good song, but not the one I want! I now have four different copies of Breakfast at Tiffany's, but not a one of Who Needs Sleep. It's driving me ever so slightly insane, especially because I know that at one point I did, in fact, have it.

I finished a mini paper on spirituality in the Maghreb and Canada this morning. It's definitely not my finest piece of academic writing, but it's very hard when the instructions we received in writing and in person were conflictual. One, "write a research paper", and the other, "tell me how you feel about the topic; I'm interested in your opinion", when added together make for a rather strange paper. Be personal, but not too personal. Be original in what you think, but back it up with sources who've said that before. Gah. It's done though, and I refuse to look at it again.

The landlord's son came by today to do some repairs for us. He's taken the broken glass out of my window, looked at everything he has to do, and has gone for supplies. I won't be here when he gets back, however, as I have to work in 45 minutes. Speaking of which, I should get my uniform together and be on my way.

Late Night, or Early Morning?

I'm on dispatch tonight, manning the phone lines and sending out walk teams. It's a pretty slow night, probably due to the rain. Nobody likes to walk when it's raining. However, at this particular moment I've just sent out my last team and am sitting in the fort doing nothing special so it seemed like a good time to update you folk.

It's also an opportunity to rave about my red cape. I decided for Halloween that I would be Little Red Riding Hood, so I made myself a red cape, complete with hood. After making said hood, I realized that I have no plans for Halloween (or didn't until moments ago), so would have no occasion to wear said awesome cape. Jackie and I decided that we would wear out costumes to the walksafe social, just because we could. There were many questions as to why exactly we were dressed up (she was a magic eight ball - true genius), but I'm discovering that I really have little problem with being that sort of a spectacle. Maybe it's confidence, maybe it's the realization that my friends will understand and anyone that would judge really doesn't matter. At any rate, I'm now sitting in dispatch, changed into cords and a team shirt, and wearing the cape for warmth. One of these years my university will realize that keeping the building at 12 degrees does no one any good, but until then, I'll continue cape-wearing.

I was just given candy by the emergency response team. That rocks. I love candy.

I'm very excited about tomorrow. We're having lunch at this fabulous little place with some friends who came in from out of town for a visit. It's a terrific thing. Of course, I don't know what time we're meeting yet. It'll happen. I have faith.

People are back in the fort now, so I'll stop writing and socialize.

Brunettes can walk and talk!

I've decided to put off grad school applications until next year. I'm sure that I could buckle down and get them done and out to schools this year, but what it comes down to is that I'm just not ready. I don't have a firm enough grasp on my thesis topic to write a solid proposal. I need the extra time to explore it a little more before hand and make sure that what I propose is actually what I want to do. I feel good about this decision. Of course, this means I have absolutely no idea what I'll be doing come June, when I graduate, or August, when my lease is up. I vacillate between extremes of wanting to go home, to staying here, to applying for international internships. There are just too many options. I'm not ready to be growed up yet.

Today I put the finishing touches on a mini paper in which I used Freudian analysis to look at the symbolic representations of graphic T-shirts. It was so much fun! I got to talk about the id complex, confusion about sexual identity, synecdoche, and the pleasure principle while throwing in T-shirt slogans like "I normally only date 10s, but two 5s will do" and "blondes tease, brunettes please". Oh so fantastic.

Then I began studying for my midterm this afternoon, and after reviewing the powerpoint presentations for two classes I realized that studying for this one is completely pointless. It's on food. FOOD. Who puts an entire midterm on food? Okay, and kinship patterns, but I've got that one nailed just via the three years of anthropology I have under my belt. Do I really want to spend the next 2 and 1/2 hours studying the ingredients in tapas? I don't think so. It's not like I'll have to remember exact proportions, and it's multiple choice anyways. How can I possibly screw that one up?

Blogging

I had the sudden urge to go through my old blog posts tonight, and the results were mixed feelings. There were a few posts that I just took down, but mostly I realized just how much I've been letting my readership down lately. The first summer I set the blog up I wrote constantly, about lots of things! Now I write very infrequently, and generally about nothing.

No longer! I pledge more and better blogging.

...As soon as I find the time. I also feel like it's time for a new banner. Thoughts?

Expressions of Joy

Sometimes I really envy crazy people. Sometimes I'd really love to dance and spin down the streets without caring what other people thought or worrying about being imprisoned for showing too much enthusiasm about life. Why is it that overjoyous celebrations or expressions of happiness are shunned in our society? What's wrong with singing to yourself in public? What's wrong with dancing in the elevator? Why do we have to be so strict about appropriate venues for expressing contentment?

I think it's a shame.

My philosophy

Them: Why are you in anthropology? That goes nowhere.

Me: Because I'd rather be happy than rich.

Ignorance and Sexual Fashion Statements

Today in class we were talking about how our lives are controlled by mass media, and whoever funds the mass media. Generally, that's an interesting topic, and the conversation was going really well until someone in my class said the following...

"Even our sexuality is determined by the media. I mean, take bisexuality: that's a total fashion statement."

Now the first part of the statement I can agree with. Media tells us what clothing is sexy, what the attractive body type is, and activities that are and are not sexual. I will even go so far as to say that some media portrays the bisexual woman as the height of sexual appeal, particularly since it fits so well with the stereotypical male fantasy of a threesome. I will not, however, give any credence to the idea that people claim to be bisexual for some kind of imagined status. In fact, the idea that people might claim bisexuality for that reason is just downright insulting and ignorant.

The truth is that much of the world is bi-phobic. Bisexuality is seen as threatening because it is grey area, and we humans like our black and white dichotomies.

There is the belief that bisexual people are more likely to cheat on their partners. As if, just because they can potentially be attracted to a greater variety of people means that they are bound to commit infidelities. I'm sorry, but straight people cheat all the time. Cheating has nothing to do with your sexual preference; it's all about the id complex (I want, therefore I do). Bisexual people can be just as committed to a relationship as any straight person, yet there are many people who wouldn't consider dating or being in a relationship with a bisexual person because of that stereotype.

There is the belief that bisexual people are automatically more sexually adventurous. I can't tell you how many of my bisexual friends have been approached to be the third party in a threesome. The assumption is, again, that because they can be attracted to multiple genders, that they constantly desire everyone. Do straight men and women find every member of the opposite gender desirable? Obviously not, so why the assumption about bisexual people?

Mary Douglas, one of my current favourite anthropologists, wrote a very famous book (Purity & Danger) explicating that things in our society that are liminal, and that we can't box into black/white categories are feared. That's where most of our taboos come from, the fear of the indefinable. Bisexuality is liminal. It's neither heterosexual nor homosexual, and so it's disbelieved and handled with a great deal of trepidation.

You know what folks? It's just another way of being. It's not a fashion statement; it's who they are, and it's perfectly okay.

In my dream country...

I had an interesting conversation with a very interesting person who also has it in his head to be a university prof some day. We were discussing the frustration of having to consistently suffer through lectures dumbed down enough for the lowest common denominator, and the pressure put upon profs to ensure that their lectures reach everyone. I've also had similar conversations with some of my professors, who say that it is a huge concern of theirs, but also that it's made worth while by those students who are visibly passionate about the subject.

While I understand that university is a time for everyone to expand their horizons, and that some horizons start a little narrower or broader than others, I can't help but think that there are definitely some people who shouldn't be here. Or people who, although perhaps can handle the workload and are interested, need guidance as to appropriate participation.

There are those people who ask the stupidest questions possible. A real life example being, "for this research question do we have to use sources, or is it just supposed to be our opinion?" That one had me smacking my head on the chair in front of me and resisting the urge to leap across the lecture hall and strangle them. Are you kidding me?!? Do you have to do research for a research question?!?

There are people who treat every lecture as if they are the only ones in the hall, responding to every point or question the prof makes without raising their hand, and talk endlessly in complete oblivion to the several hundred people all shooting them death glares and groaning when they begin to speak. This is made infinitely worse by the fact that these people very rarely have anything of value to contribute and clearly just like hearing the sound of their own voice.

I've had similar conversations with Mum, and I have to say that I think she was seriously on to something when she said that postsecondary education should be free - but only to those who pass a screening process (grades and interviews). Think of how many problems this would solve. Classes would be full of people who were dedicated and entirely sure that this is where they both desired to be and belonged. Professors would have the delight of teaching to lecture halls where people were actually doing the readings and not just filling space. Undergraduates would no longer be burdened by thousands of dollars of debt. Corporations would have to stop requiring university degrees for jobs that absolutely do not require university education. It'd be sheer genius. Will it happen? Probably not, but it sure is nice to dream about...

Band-Aids

I just thought I'd share with the world that I'm now sporting a Leonardo Ninja Turtle band-aid on my left bicep. We were at the bar tonight, and I randomly started bleeding (scratched myself), and my friend came to the rescue with these hott band-aids he carries in his wallet. Ninja Turtles are crazy cool.

Snow Squalls

I'm sitting in my living room, staring out the sliding glass doors in dazed confusion. Jackie is chatting with me about stuff. Suddenly she joins in the staring and asks, "Is it snowing?!?"
"Yep."

Today we had alternating weather between bright blue sunny skies and all-out snow squalls where it snowed so hard you couldn't see 2 feet in front of you with winds swirling around in circles. If it was warm, it must have been tornado weather. Weird.

Exams!

Finally the exam schedule for this term went up. I have only two exams this term, because anthro rocks and most of the profs don't believe in tests, but go for multiple papers and presentations. Since I do way better on those than on tests, it works for me.

Most importantly though, of all four years I have been here, this is the first one where I don't have an exam on or right after my birthday. Finally! There is nothing worse than having to write and exam or study on your birthday. I'm psyched. Of course, I probably will study on my birthday anyways, but now I don't have to.

And now, to paper writing.

Ps: I don't actually have to do my SAI until next week, turns out. So I still have time to get past the freaking out. I'm better now, really.

I SAI no!

I've completely given up on the idea of having my SAI done for Wednesday. It's just not happening. I have no freaking idea what I want to do. I'm not ready. I'm just not ready. So screw you, SAI. Screw you, grad school applications. Just screw you.

Maybe tomorrow I'll feel differently.

Ancestors

Some of you may know, but certainly not all of you, that one of my hobbies is tracing back my family genealogy. Too a lot of people these sorts of things are just names and dates, but I find it fascinating. It's always nice to know where you come from.

Unfortunately, not all of the genealogical records are online yet, so the process is somewhat slow. Last January I worked on them for a bit, and got as far as I could with the online stuff and what I knew, to about 1840. As my last attempt, I put a post up on a genealogical forum. This week, I heard back from my second cousin, twice removed, who I had, up until this point, no idea even existed. She provided me with information on about 50 people from her branch of the tree. After connecting those dots, I had quite a bit more to work with, so I did some more research. Once again I hit a dead end, this time at 1837. Three more years back is good, but not a whole lot.

I did some random googling, and found a different forum, so I posted on there yesterday. Lo and behold, this morning I get up and I have three replies. Three! This is unheard of! This time they weren't relatives, but they were still able to provide me with more information. I've now discovered that the reason I couldn't find anyone prior to 1837 is because I was looking in the wrong district. In about 1835, my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather decided to move, thereby separating the family and making it next to impossible for me to find him before that. Now that I know where he came from, I was able to track down his parents and siblings, adding another 10 names to the tree. Now I know back to 1806, impressive no?

Furthermore, I've got a lead that might push it back to 1780, if my hunch is right. I'm waiting to hear back from another person on the forum. Here's a tidbit: if I am right, then my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was a bastard child, with two other siblings, both from different men. Additionally, his father was a convict!! Wouldn't that be exciting though? We'll just wait and see...

Crisis of (dis)belief

Downstairs where the dining room table used to be visible, there are now stacks of books and articles and papers, along with a stapler, highlighters and pens of various colours, and arrowroot cookies (brain food). Why? Because downstairs I am churning out pages and pages of notes on urban anthropology and missionization, my would-be masters thesis topic.

Strangely, there are very few documents that deal with the two things together. And by very few I mean that I have yet to find so much as one. There are books on urban anthropology; there are books on missionization. There are books on anthropology and missionization in rural areas, but nowhere -nowhere at all - have I found books on anthropology and urban missionization. Heck, I can't even find books on urban missionization without the anthropology part. And why? Because we like to pretend that our society is the good, safe, healthy society, and why would you need to fix it when there are so many worse off places? And certainly, if we do devote time and energy to fixing our own screwed up mess of a society, we're not going to advertise it in academic papers. Because academics would rather study the screwed up societies of the exotic other.

The more research I do, and the more notes I make, the angrier I get. I get angry that anthropologists are so obsessed with the idea of protecting their studied subjects from cultural change that they would rather see them starve and grow ill than accept aid from Christian missions. Anthropologists get all up in arms about missionaries, and yet they're generally accepting of aid when it comes from organizations that they also know virtually nothing about? Anthropologists get all high and mighty about missionaries because of some of the tragedies they caused in the past. Can you say hypocritical? Anthropologists worked for the CIA doing some absolutely atrocious things in the past. We can forgive our own discipline, but not allow that others have changed and learned from their past actions as well?

The professor that first got me interested in anthropology warned me that there would be times when I would struggle with my relationship with the discipline. He warned me that there would be times I would both loathe and love it, all at the same time. When he told me those things, I was skeptical. I was blinded by the sheer joy of having found an academic subject that spoke to me. Now I know that he was right. Right now, I hate anthropologists. Right now I want to title my masters proposal "The Arrogant Anthropologist".

Right now I hate it. Ten minutes from now, I'll be back in love. Once the fever has died down from all the blood rushing to my head as I absorbed text after text, and scribbled line after line of thoughts and interpretations. Once I have cooled, I will remember that "the purpose of anthropology is to make the world safe for human difference" (Ruth Benedict) and that I have the chance to work with it to make it a better discipline, for a better world. And there it is. There's the love, right back again.

TGIT!

Today I have to hand in a summary-analysis of an article we read in my fourth year anthropological theory course. I spent a total of eight solid hours working on this sucker over the period of three days, not including the time it took me to actually read the thing in the first place. And the result? I fairly stupendous paper, I think. However, in the past it hasn't seemed to matter how much work I do for this prof, I never get above a B+. How's that for frustrating? Maybe this one will break the trend?

Then I have seminar-style lecture for 3 hours, and then I get to go pick up 100 condoms that are kindly being donated to the anthropology exec by heath services for our various events this year.

Then I have to go shopping and pick up important things like mixing bowls and a door mat.

And THEN it's Thanksgiving weekend!! Hurrah!! Of course, what this really means is that I have four days to catch up on reading, do my take-home midterm, and get a head start on some essay prep! Not to worry, I'm also doing the family time thing. That'll be really nice.

Past Pain

After going to campus early, working on one of my papers for 1 1/2 hours, going to my classes, and doing a chapter of reading, I decided I would go to another aerobics class. How diligent of me, no?

This class was nothing like the one I went to on Sunday. Sundays was balanced, moving between muscle groups in a rotation. Today's was working all leg muscles, then all arm muscles, then all abs/back. The result was that the muscles we were working got exhausted, and the other ones got cold and cramped. Talk about not ideal. Because the muscles we were working were exhausted, people were having trouble keeping up, and everyone was getting frustrated.

This is what happens when the class is taught by a thin, incredibly fit, fourth year kin student who has presumably been working out four times a week or more all the years she's been in her program. For the rest of us beginners - and yes, it is a beginner class, we were absolutely dying. And at the end of it she says, "was that too easy guys? Should I make it harder next time?" Someone at the back replied, "Only if you want us to actually begin dropping dead".

I'm so far past pain that my muscles are just quivering from shock.

Note to self: keep to the classes with the first instructor.

Phone Calls

She paces around the kitchen, staring at the clock. 8:37. She'd be sure of an answer now, the class ended at 8:00, but she can't bring up the nerve. Her throat is sore, so she pours a glass of water. If she's going to do this, she'll need to have a voice. She refills the Brita. She looks at the clock. 8:42. She looks at the phone, and falters. She remembers a story that she read in one of those Chicken Soup for the Soul books about a guy who'd liked this girl and never asked her out and then regretted it and finally realized years later that even if he had asked and had been rejected what would the difference be since he didn't have a date with her anyways? She's always liked that story. It has a good moral: seize the moment. "Okay," she says aloud to herself, "I'll call at 9:00. As soon as the minute hits 9:00, I'll call." She knows that if she sets a time, she'll do it.

She looks around the kitchen for distraction in the meantime. Dishes, she can do the dishes. On goes the hot water, and sooner than seemingly possible the dish rack is full of clean, wet dishes. She looks at the clock. 8:53. Aaaaaaaaahhhhh! She can't take it anymore. She picks up the cell phone. She flips it open and finds the phone book. She scrolls through until it lands on the right name. She places her finger over the dial button. She falters. What if there's no answer? What if she makes an idiot of herself? What if it's all a disaster and she wishes she'd never called? She stares at the phone wondering all this all the while the voice in the back of her mind is telling her that she'd just better push the dial button before the cell phone auto power-offs. She grits her teeth. She pushes the button. She feels nauseous. She puts the phone up to her ear and takes a deep breath. Ring. Ring.

It's answered. And it's so worth it.

Fitness

I had my first aerobics class tonight. It was fantastic. I ache absolutely everywhere. There are a couple other classes tomorrow and I might go one to if I'm not in too much pain. The goal is to do something 4 times a week. I can manage that, right? I mean, what else do I have? Walksafe, work, classes, school work and a social life. That only adds up to 100 hours a week, I'll still have time for sleeping!

Also, I'm almost done that rediculous assignment. I just have to write a paragraph on what I learned. I'm sorely tempted to write, "I learned that assignments such as this are a large waste of my time. The end." Of course, I won't, because I don't want to fail, but still. Come on!

Insane Assignment

How can I possibly write a five paragraph essay with 5-10 sources in two pages maximum double spaced? That's only 600 words! This professor is insane! What am I expected to do, use a reference in every line of the paper? Have no original thought at all? This is so stupid!

[end rant]