Well readers, this is my last blog post of the term, thanks for tuning in one more time. Although in ASTU we’ve been talking about Mohsin Hamid’s novel The Reluctant Fundamentalist I’d like to spend my last post reflecting on CAP and particularly our global citizens themed stream. The term is almost over, and I can confidently say as a citizen of the world I feel more connected with my fellow citizens and more in-tune and aware of the issues going on all over our globe thanks to CAP.

Over the last seven months I’ve gained a much better understanding about how society functions and why it does the way it does. While my peers and I may not be engineers, Sauder students, or science wiz-kids I think what we’ve learned and the way we’ve learned it allows us to contribute to society in different, yet highly important ways. Politically, 2015 was and 2016 will be a crazy year. We’ve seen Donald Trump and his overtly racist, xenophobic, and sexist rhetoric rise to scary high popularity in the United States. In Europe, where many of the countries there have been taking in thousands of refugees from war-torn Syria, we’ve seen a rise in right-of-centre populist movements reminiscent of mid-20th century movements. Concurrently, we’ve seen Europe targeted by the radical group ISIS which remains a terrorizing force in the Middle East. While all of this is certainly frightening, it is imperative that young people are properly educated in these matters, and that some are prepared to help fix these global problems upon entering the “real world”. That’s what the global citizens stream is doing for us in CAP. First, we’ll spend four or five years learning, maturing, and growing through university, and then it is up to us to lead our generation down the right path in the future. CAP has made me proud to be an Arts student; where before I felt inferior to other faculties, I know better recognize the importance of what we’re doing and how our contributions out of university will shape the future of the globe.

I’d like to thank all my CAP profs for impacting me in such a positive way in my first year of university. And of course, thanks for reading this term and feel free to comment!

Ben Ross

Hello readers, great to back blogging! This week I got to experience another benefit of being in UBC’s CAP program. On Wednesday, instead of having my normal two hour lecture block of sociology followed by geography, all the CAP professors (sadly without David Ley) did a joint lecture on a growing movement in the United States and in the world; the Black Lives Matter movement. This subject was especially pertinent because my CAP stream is themed “Global Citizens” as we all know by now. As global citizens, it is important that we all understand movements like Black Lives Matter and the impact it has on our society. It is equally important, in my view, that we understand the critiques of movements such as BLM and why these arguments (Like the ridiculous #alllivesmatter) are flawed.

Reading about BLM on the internet and social media certainly can help anyone better understand what’s going on, but I think hearing the perspective from someone who’s actually been involved is invaluable. Luckily my geography TA, Guille, was involved with BLM in Ohio before coming to UBC, and he gave a short presentation on his experience. He talked about individual members of the black community in Ohio who he knew that lost there lives to police violence as well as some friends of his in BLM that battled with depression and other issues due to the pressure of contributing to BLM in the face of such prevalent institutionalized racism in America. While I didn’t find I learned a whole lot of new things about Black Lives Matter as a whole, my understanding nevertheless, changed. This got me to think of the importance of primary sources as academic tools and as ways for personal growth. I could read every article online commenting on BLM (although it would take quite a while) and subsequently know a lot about it, but the learning experience of primary sources, in my opinion, has a different and very important value to it. This reminded me of my ASTU trip to IKB during first term where we were lucky enough to examine primary sources on Joy Kogawa’s novel, Obasan. Though while we were there I didn’t feel like I learned way more about Obasan as a novel, I definitely gained more insight on how society reacted to the book and other things I could not find in a textbook or in some online article.

All in all, I was very satisfied with CAP’s joint lecture on Wednesday, and I am very glad Guille shared with us. Thanks for reading and as always, feel free to comment!

Ben Ross

Hello readers, it’s great to be writing this week! In my ASTU course we have been talking Judith Butler and part of her book Frames of War. Butler questions how we value lives around the world and asks “whose lives are regarded as lives worth saving and defending, and whose are not?” (Butler 38). She expands on this question by asking “how we might rethink the the “we” in global terms in ways that counter the politics of imposition” (Butler 38). I think the questions Butler proposes are quite poignant especially in our world today. Much to my dismay, I think the “we” that Butler mentions is Western society and therefore there is an intense bias as to how we view global traumatic events. For example, just a couple months ago in San Bernardino, California a shooting took place claiming the lives of 14 innocent people. The attackers were soon linked to ISIS, and President Obama declared the tragedy a terrorist attack while politicians throughout the country were outraged. Now I’m not in any way trying to take away from the traumatic event that took place in San Bernardino, as it was truly horrific, however I will say that every single day in Iraq and Syria countless innocent lives are claimed or put in danger by ISIS, yet “we” (the West) for the most part go on living our normal routine lives. But of course if something ever happens on Western soil, our daily lives are completely disrupted. The attacks in Paris that happened this past November were shocking and horrifying to say the least, and again, I’m not trying to downplay the tragedy, but literally the day before in Beirut, Lebanon (non-Western world) a bombing killed 43 civilians and injured more than 200 more. That trauma went virtually uncovered in the media as all eyes were on Paris.

I think Judith Butler would certainly point that out as well. In an ideal world, every innocent life lost in trauma would carry the same value, but the fact is that the Western world will be more concerned with events at home rather than abroad. It seems apparent to me that it is up to us, as global citizens, to break through the frames and respect victims of trauma worldwide.

Thanks for reading this week, feel free to comment!

Ben Ross

Hello readers! It’s great to be back writing my ASTU blog for term two! Over the past two weeks, we have covered Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. The book addresses the sensitive subject of the 9/11 terror attacks through the eyes of nine-year-old Oskar Schell, who lost his father to the attacks. Oskar is not the average nine-year-old; his vocabulary is unique and he has a very quirky nature. One thing I find particularly interesting about Oskar is his heightened maturity. He shows way more independence than most nine-year-olds (walking around New York City on his own as a prime example), and I think this is no coincidence. I believe Oskar likely would not act so mature if his father had never been a victim of the 9/11 attacks.

It is obvious throughout the novel that Oskar idolizes his father. And why not? He was a great dad who really loved his son. One thing that he says to Oskar is “Don’t act your age” (Foer 13) and I think that stuck with Oskar, especially after his father passed. Oskar probably felt like if he took what his father told him to heart it wouldn’t make him as sad (or heavy-booted) because he is carrying out his father’s advice and in that way Oskar is trying to make his dad proud.

I also think the whole traumatic experience of the 9/11 attacks forces Oskar to grow. Losing his father at such a young age, and by such horrific means robs Oskar of his childhood and innocence. In my opinion, and I think many would agree with me, it would be weird if Oskar did not act so mature and grown up and simply just continued a normal childhood after a life altering event like 9/11. This is comparable to the other characters we’ve seen in term one. Marji from Persepolis and Naomi from Obasan were both innocent children living a fairly normal life until they were struck by huge tragedy. Like Oskar, Marji and Naomi were forced to grow up quickly and show an elevated sense of maturity.

So perhaps this begs the question, do we only grow through tragedy? If we never going through any sort of traumatic experience, will we ever reach our full development? Of course, there are certain degrees of tragedy, and I’m not arguing going through a traumatic event to the scale of 9/11 firsthand is something everyone needs to go through, but I do think everyone needs to experience trauma on some scale to develop as a person.

As always, feel free to comment and thanks for reading!

Ben Ross

Greetings readers! Last week in my ASTU class we took a mini field trip to the Rare Books and Special Collections section of IBLC. While there, we were given an opportunity to look at original artifacts regarding Joy Kogawa’s Canadian-Japanese internment novel, Obasan. I mainly looked at three different folders, all of which contained letters to Joy Kogawa responding and reacting to her acclaimed novel.

The first folder I examined was folder number 58-3 which was composed of multiple letters from adult readers who were greatly impacted by Obasan. While the individual connections to Kogawa’s book were of course unique to the specific reader, I noticed a resounding consensus amongst most respondents; gratitude was the common theme in the letters to Kogawa. Of course most praised Kogawa’s work, but I think a feeling of thankfulness was more present because Obasan in a way broke the almost forty year silence that Japanese-Canadians experienced since the brutal actions committed by their own government. People were able to relate to Obasan and thus seemingly were more open about the trauma they had been through. In my opinion, that was Kogawa’s ultimate goal. She didn’t want people to have to live in silence with their own dark memories, and it is clear to me that her message truly resonated with her readers.

Folder number 28-3 consisted of numerous letters from elementary students writing to Kogawa about her adaptation of Obasan into a children’s book titled Naomi’s Road. Before I can even critically write about the responses, I have to say these letters were so much fun to read. One young student made a point of letting Kogawa know when her birthday was (it was June 21st for those interested), and another student, when describing himself, said he was 10 years old with red hair, blue eyes, and “Canadian skin” (still not exactly sure what that means). While these letter were fun to read, there is also something to say about how simple yet thoughtful they were. Many of the students seemed genuinely worried about whether Naomi’s mother ever came back and what exactly happened to her. Though the kids were fairly young, most understood the seriousness of the situation and the somber attitude that surrounded it. I loved reading that the kids wanted Kogawa to write more books on Naomi because it showed they were truly enthusiastic.

The last folder I looked at, folder number 58-4, held a letter from then Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau addressed on July 24th, 1981. When I first realized Kogawa received a letter from the Prime Minister for her work I was impressed with both Kogawa and Prime Minister Trudeau. However, upon reading the letter I was disappointed to read the disingenuous tone taken by Trudeau. The letter seemed formulaic and plain, and it didn’t even eclipse 50 words. Given the prominence of the book and the fact that the Canadian government had practically ignored Japanese internment for almost forty years, I think Kogawa was owed more than a “good job” and a “looking forward to reading it” from the Prime Minister of Canada. Obviously, the Prime Minister is substantially more busy than the average adult, and of course more than school-children, but when comparing the letter between the three sources, Prime Minister Trudeau, the representative of the Canadian government, came off as uninterested, fake, and frankly, rude. I think it was no coincidence that the Canadian people were enthusiastic, thankful, and thoughtful while the government showed contempt and ignorance to a novel that shined a light on past government mistakes.

Of course, this is all my opinion, let me know what you think in the comments. Thanks for reading!
(hopefully the pictures are clear, I’m not sure what happened)

Ben Ross  

Hello readers! It has been quite a while, but I am excited to be back writing my ASTU blog! This past week in class we read the novel Obasan by Joy Kogawa. The book covers the sensitive subject of Japanese internment in Canada during World War 2, and I must say, it was difficult to read in parts. Kogawa did not shy away from portraying horrific actions committed against completely innocent people. The title character of the novel, Obasan (actually named Ayako but referred to as the Japanese word for “aunt”), is quiet and somber. Almost thirty years after she and her family were interned Obasan is clearly still experiencing trauma. This is a representation of how truly awful these circumstances were. The thing that is most disconcerting to me is that this event in Canada’s history has been mostly unrecognized and unacknowledged.

This all ties into another topic we’ve been talking about in ASTU; cultural memory. In her book Tangled Memories: the Vietnam War, the Aids Epidemic, and the Politics of Remembering Marita Sturken, an expert in memory, explains the idea of cultural memory and how it can be selectively used. When it comes to historical events, it seems that some cultures choose to remember certain aspects of one broad event and forget other aspects of the same event. So for example, when it comes to World War 2, many Canadians remember the War as a tough time for the nation, but ultimately a triumphant moment. However, a whole group of people were being treated as subhuman in our country and, while society is slowly coming around, it is still vastly forgotten.

Obasan was a tough read, but I think it is an essential novel to teach people of all ages about the injustices committed in their own country. Canada is a great nation, and we enjoy many freedoms, but it is important to remember the failures in the past so we don’t let it happen again.

Thanks for tuning in and feel free to comment below!

Hello readers! This week in my ASTU class I read an academic essay by scholar Hillary Chute titled The Texture of Retracing in Marjane Satrapi’s “Persepolis”. The essay argues that the newly respected medium in literary form, comic books, is not dominated by men. Chute highlights the brilliant work of Marjane Satrapi for the graphic narrative Persepolis. She also praises the unique qualities of comic books in general. For me, the fact that Persepolis has illustrations added a whole new dimension to the story. When Satrapi could not find the right words to perfectly describe something, she was able to use her drawings to better get her point across to the reader. For example, on page 89 Satrapi describes the forced migration of Iranians living in towns near the border of Iraq because of the intense bombing. In a regular novel she could have described the tragedy and certainly could have had an emotional impact on the reader. However, the comic book medium allowed her to draw the situation, in this case abstractly.

This is her drawing:

The flames in the abstract illustration invoke a greater, or at least significantly different, emotional response rather than what just a novel would do.

A great thing about comic books is their simplicity. Persepolis took no more than two hours to read. Perhaps this simplicity could be used for the benefit of young students and beginner readers. Instead of teaching challenging novels, it may be smart to introduce more graphic narratives to school curriculums. My guess is that young students would enjoy reading and learning more because it would be a lot easier to comprehend what they are doing. This all comes back to the idea of global citizenship and how we can encourage more young people to become global citizens. With greater engagement in education, it is obvious that young people would be further inclined to be global citizens.

Thanks for reading! Please comment with any discussion points!

Ben Ross

Hello everyone! This week in my ASTU class I read the graphic narrative Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. After seeing we were going to be reading a comic book for my first university reading ever, I have to say I didn’t know what to expect. However, I was quickly enthralled by the story. The relationship Marji had with her parents moved me. I’m not afraid to admit I teared up at the end as Marji left her parents for possibly the last time.

Some things I really loved about the story were the powerful illustrations. A constant I noticed was Satrapi’s abstract drawings of mass death. This can be seen on page 15 and page 102. Satrapi’s method of drawing the bodies in a very uniform and spiritual way forces the reader into reacting more intensely. The frame on page 102 particularly “got me” in that Satrapi drew the young boys killed in battle blown up holding their “keys to heaven” close to me. The fact that the Regime tricked young boys into fighting and ultimately dying for an absurd cause makes my blood boil.

It’s that feeling that you get- the feeling of “blood boiling”- that I think makes this story so impactful. Despite this being a comic book, and seemingly child-friendly, Satrapi did not shy away from being graphic, detailed and dark. The more I read about different characters doing terrible and awful things to innocent people the more angry and upset I got, and thus the more I invested myself in the story. Before reading Persepolis I had very little knowledge on the history of Iran and Iraq in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Now, I can say I’m educated on it (with a little more research on my own) and I can further understand the future and current  issues going on in the area.

I think this all ties back into being a global citizen. Persepolis was chosen for my curriculum because the professors knew that it would stir a reaction in me and my classmates. This brilliant graphic narrative further pushes me to strive to impact our world for the better.

-Ben Ross

Works Cited:

Satrapi, Marjane. Persepolis. New York, NY: Pantheon, 2003. Print.

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