Reason #241 why I love my dad.

Because no one else I know would read the introduction of my thesis, which is on culture, and say:

"Gee now doesn'’t that sound like a sophisticated psychotherapeutic approach to the integration of self-states, ego states, differing cognitive-affective self-schemas, good and bad objects etc. It is the same process and prevents one state, schema or object relation from dominating the many and an awareness and appreciation of the many paradoxically leads to a stronger sense of self."

The older I get, and I more I learn, the more I realize how incredible my dad is.

Mehran

Over the past few days there has been a story in the news about a young boy named Alex Barton. Alex is five. He was recently diganosed with aspergerus (sometimes described as a milder form of autism).

One day, when he was in the vice-principle's office promising to stop disrupting the class (by crawling under tables, kicking tables, throwing crayons etc.) his teacher gathered the students to talk with them about Alex's (mis)behavior.

When Alex returned, his teacher, who had 12 years experience, made Alex walk to the front of the class, and asked him to listen to what the children didn't like about him. According to Alex, the children complained that he "eats paper, picks boogers … and bites his shoelaces," and the teacher herself said, "I hate you right now. I don't like you today." She then polled the class about whether to let Alex back in. Alex lost the class vote, 14-2, and spent the rest of the school day in the nurse's office. That night, Alex did not eat dinner and would not sleep in his own bed.

This story really struck me. In part for the obvious reason, the public shaming of a five year old. But also I can somewhat understand what it must have been like.

When I was eight, in grade three, there was a disruptive boy in our class, Mehran. Mehran was from an immigrant family which was less affluent then most of the upper-middle class white families whose children went to my elementary school.

One day, we all sat in a circle, while the student teacher, under the watchful eye of the regular teacher, had us all say what we didn't like about Mehran's behaviour. After a while he turned so he was still in the circle, but with his back to the group.

I remember coming home and telling my mother - and how outraged she was. I was eight. I didn't really understand why it wrong. I knew Mehran was disruptive, although his disruptions never bothered me. And I knew it made him sad that the group was saying bad things about him. But at eight, I didn't fully understand the abuse of power and violation of trust on the part of the teachers. I only wish that someone had understood. That someone had been able to speak out. To protect him. But we couldn't. We didn't understand. And neither did he. He couldn't protect himself. And the teachers, the ones in the room who were charged with the duty of care to protect him, were the one's responsible for this abuse.

After that day we had a jar on the teacher's desk. Everytime Mehran did something good the teacher would put a marble in the jar. When he did something bad a marble would come out. When the jar was full the class would get popcorn. So basically, the class of third graders was charged with monitoring the behaviour of one of it's members. Surveiling him to make sure he contributed to the greater good. Giving the rest of us a positive incentive, while further marginalizing one member of the group.

I left that school the next year, and from what I understand, Mehran didn't come back either. I have no idea what happened to him. I hope he is somewhere happy and thriving. And I don't know about the rest of my classmates, but I hope I remember the lesson of that day. The duty of the strong to protect the weak. And the strength to stand up for what is right - now that I have the critical skills to understand and a voice with which to speak.

life.

what do you do when someone sends you a piece of paper that gives you an opportunity to realize your ultimate life goal - three weeks after you decided you no longer had an ultimate life goal. It helps if that piece of paper also suggests that your ultimate life goal will cost $200,000CAD. It's what I wanted for so long. I don't want to give it up. I know that I should. I know that giving it up will make me happier in the long run. But damn will it be hard.

What's Goin' On...

1) My oldest friend (who I am no longer friends with) is getting married! She is the first of the people I went to grade school with (that I still get info about) to get married. I want to say "she is so young!" but she is not. She's not old. But engaged at 23, married at 24 is not too young.

2) The majority of people who wrote the midterm for the class I TA for did badly. So then I feel really badly - even though it is in no way my fault. If I was ever a teacher I would want everyone to do really well on everythig. which of course is not very practical. except for the kids that do not care at all about the class or about me or about doing well. In that case I still hope they do well, but I do not feel guilty if they don't.

3) The other day I was out shopping and the woman in the store pointed out a shirt to me that was made of soy. "Have you ever worn soy before?" she asked me. To which I replied in the negative - and sadly I also did not buy the shirt so I have still never worn soy. How 2004!

from Nepal to Victoria

Last night Devin and I went out for Nepalese food - and it was fabulous. Usually I make a reservation before we go out for dinner, but the last couple times I have done that the restaurant has been fairly empty, so I decided not to this time (just because). When we arrived it was less than half full - but then the hostess informed us that every table was reserved except for two! We ended up sitting next to another non-reservation couple who arrived about five minutes after us. They seemed to be on a second date - and all I remember from the conversation was the guy asking the girl what her mother did, the girl saying "nothing" and when asked to elborate the girl replied "nothing, she sits around smoking pot all day". Which, while perhaps sad, was amusing in the context of a second date conversation.

Now, I have to admit that I don't really know what "Nepalese food" consists of - but based on what we ordered, there are curries and lamb and chicken and dumplings involved. The restaurant was also fabulous - I am very big on "ambiance and atmosphere" and so both of those score major restaurant points with me. The service could have been better - but it wasn't horrible. And I would definetly go back! Except now I start thinking about the future and wonder "well, will I ever have a chance to go back?" but then I stop thinking those thoughts and remember that if I don't finish my thesis I might very well live here for the rest of my life as a destitute MA student. Okay. So maybe that's a little unlikely, but still!

It's a gorgeous day outside and it's currently around 11am - so I think that the next order of the day will be going outside and enjoying the weather!

The Abyss and Freedom

Today is Sunday. The day of rest. Or the day of reading "Feminism and the Abyss of Freedom". Unfortunetly, I am spending the day doing the latter. And let me tell you, the Abyss of Freedom is about as pleasant to read as it sounds. Actually, the Abyss of Freedom is good thing, but it is not a particularly fun thing to read about.

However, I was supposed to read it last week, and I didn't start it until yesterday, so I don't have the option of giving up for the day. This week was a good week. I finished my final grant proposal (well, the second of two) and now I have a million-less-one things to worry about. Just now, to take a mini-break from the Abyss of Freedom I went to Starbucks and bought my first eggnog latte of the Christmas season!! Apparently a grande skim-milk/eggnog latte has 10 grams of fat and costs $4.72. This has prompted me to re-evaluate my plan of an eggnog latte a day for the next two months. Mainly because $150 is about half of my monthly food budget. Though it's still not enough for the shoes I want to buy :) Plus, I have to save for Devin's Christmas and birthday presents, so I can't go spending all my money on coffee.

thoughts from today

today I finally submitted my paperwork for my grant - which means soon I will have money. Which is good b/c I have to pay a ridiculous amount of tution to sit in a room alone and write a thesis.

I have no orange juice. This makes me sad. Today I ordered three books online. This makes me happy. My kitchen is a mess. This makes me sad. But not suprised. I have started thinking a lot about my life lately. And what I want right now. But right now I am still too busy to think. But do I really need to think? Would it really be so bad to just keep letting stuff happen? Taking it day by day - not worrying so much about what the future holds.

There are some days when I think that I am super old and have to figure out exactly what to do with my life - have a five, ten and twenty year plan - be planning my career, marriage, first morgage etc. Other days I want to graduate then travel the world, or become a teacher (other people dream of acting on broadway - I dream of being a teacher), or adopt a baby girl, or work on a development project in Africa or Latin America. What I really want are answers - even though I get that such ansewrs are not to be found externally. But if anyone has any anwsers I'd love to know!