Write a short story (600 – 1000 words max) that describes your sense of home and the values and stories that you use to connect yourself to your home.

 

The first thing that comes into mine when I think about my home is noise, specifically music. My family, in particular my dad, has always had a very passionate relationship with music, and there is rarely a time when he is home that it is not playing somewhere in our house. I remember as a kid it used to be embarrassing, friends of mine would come over and my dad would have his speakers in our driveway, blasting Supertramp or other ‘old people’ music while he sung all the lyrics wrong, causing me to cringe and told my friends to ignore it. Now that I’m an adult, though, now I would be far more likely to start singing with him.

I am the youngest of three children, all girls, so growing up the house was always full of chatter, laughing, and, especially during the teenage years, shouting. Looking back on it now I bet my dad probably used his speakers and amplifiers and fancy headphones to block a lot of it out, but it wasn’t always a bad thing. I loved my house being chaotic, and I still do. Even if I am home alone I tend to turn on a tv, a radio, anything to avoid the still and oppressive silence of an empty house. My home needs to be full of people, full of life, otherwise it isn’t my home.

As I grow older I find myself home alone more often. The silence of our house is so alien, so wrong. It doesn’t feel like home when it is quiet and still, it feels much more typical when it’s full of people laughing, eating, and of course bickering. My middle sister was married in August, and moved into an apartment with her husband. It still doesn’t quite feel like home without her. Having lived twenty-three years in the same home as her, twelve of those in the same room, it has been an odd adjustment to make. I still see her very frequently, but I get the sense that her home has changed. Her home will always be partially with me, yes, but it is now centered around her husband and the family they will be starting.

Another way my home has changed over the years is through the addition of pets. When I was 10 we got our first pet, a golden retriever. Nothing says ‘home’ quite so much as a sentient being that will always be there waiting for you. Kiwi is still around now, older and quieter but still happily standing and waiting by the door whenever I get home, tail wagging. Her love of all of us has definitely had an impact on my feeling of ‘home’. I worry about the day when she’s gone, and when I walk into my door and that greeting isn’t there, or when I wake up without her head peeking over the side of my bed, I don’t think it will feel as much like my home on that day. Something will be missing.

Wouldn’t you miss this face?

It’s funny, I never notice when things are missing from my home, or added. My sense of home does not seem to be tied into physical objects, not minor ones, anyways. I’ll get home from work, from school, from wherever and my mom used to ask me things like “Do you notice anything different?” with a huge smile, meaning she had bought something new, and I always struggled to answer. Usually she would take pity and just point out whatever it was, clock, lamp, rug, but as much time as I’ve spent in my home over the years I could never walk into the room and pinpoint what had been changed.

My sense of home is more about the life of the home, who is in it, what are they doing, how are they feeling, as opposed to the objects. As excited as I am to be moving out on my own soon I think I also dread it a bit, I don’t know if I’m ready for my home to change. I think a part of my home will always reside with those who occupied it, though, my sisters, my parents, my pets, and my friends. Even as I move onto a new physical home, those pieces will stay where they are, where they belong.

I found myself very much enjoying the assignment for this week, and ended up roping in family, friends and coworkers into listening to my highly edited re-telling of why it is important to be careful with stories, tall tales, and all other manner of words. Words carry a danger that is very easy to forget, until it is too late.

Without further ado, here is my story!

The Rise and Fall of Eudyptes Azureus

Have you ever heard of a species of penguin labeled as E. Azureus? No? There is a reason for that.

E. Azureus lived, as many penguins do, in the unforgiving climate of Antarctica. Surrounded by cold and darkness for long periods of the time penguins in this climate turned inwards, and became very fond of stories, dreams, and traditions. One of the most important traditions to E. Azureus was the spirit guide that appeared to each penguin when they reached their maturity. This guide would often give the penguin it spoke to advice, tasks to accomplish, or even new songs or poems to share. If this guide does not appear then the penguin is judged to not yet be mature enough, and must wait another year.

The fall of E. Azureus was put into play by one young penguin, whose name is not known. This penguin waited anxiously for his guide upon his arrival at the age of maturity, but one did not appear. The following year he waited again, and again was disappointed. He listened jealously to the stories of those younger than him, and envied their experiences. Following the third year of his spirit guide not materializing, his resolve broke.

The penguin approached his kin the next morning and acted joyous, telling all whom would listen that his guide had appeared! All the penguins were pleased for him and crowded around to listen to what he had been told. Not wanting to be caught in a lie, the still immature penguin almost faltered, but quickly gathered himself and told them that what his guide had told him was verrrrrry important. The penguins demanded to be told what it was; they were hoping it was information that could make their bleak and difficult existence easier.

“We have to move,” the penguin stated, “my guide told me that we must make our way to great water and go beyond it. There we will find our paradise.”

The crowd of penguins was horrified. They had vowed to never go back to the great water, there were too many dangers, and it was too far! Comments sprang up from the crowd, who had turned from happy and eager to hear to scared and uncomfortable.

“How will we get there?” cried one young penguin.

“Where will we find food?” yelped another.

“What about the eaters?” asked one grizzled elder.

The leader of the penguin colony cried out for silence and looked thoughtful. He stared at the lying penguin for a long while, and then simply nodded.

“We will do as his guide told us”, the penguin stated, “Guides have never led us astray before. We must trust in them.”

With that it was decided, and the lying penguin was congratulated by all. The colony made preparations for the long journey, and made plans to set out the next morning.

The last night in the land he had grown in was hard on the lying penguin. He slept fitfully, and during the night his long awaited spirit guide came to him, even though it was not the correct time of year. He had waited so long for this moment, and when it came all he felt was shame. His guide avoided looking at him for a long while before speaking.

“You,” the guide cried, “will be forced to live with the consequences of the story you told. Not all words can be taken back.”

With that simple statement, the guide vanished, leaving the penguin to wake up and begin the long trek with the rest of his kin.

Many died on the journey, primarily due to lack of food or exhaustion. So strong was their belief in the truth of the guide’s words that the penguins pushed themselves to the limit day after day. After weeks of hard travel they caught a glimpse of the great water from the top of a cliff. Below the cliff lay a large barren beach.

“We’ve arrived!” the penguins rejoiced, “Now we must enter the great water and keep going until we cannot anymore.”

The lying penguin had been quiet for much of the journey. He felt each and every death weigh on his conscience, but he had never found the strength to tell the penguins that he had lied, to make them turn back. He called for their attention then, on top of that cliff, staring out over the great water.

“I have wronged you”, he began, “I lied and I am sorry. No guide spoke to me, not until the night after I told all of you. I was scared to tell you before, but I’m not anymore. Don’t go.”

The crowd of penguins shuffled uneasily, had they really lost so many for nothing? What would they do now? They could not survive the same long trek back to their unforgiving homeland.

Unsteadily the colony leader turned to face the lying penguin.

“You’re lying.” He stated, blandly. “This journey has taken much out of you, and I do not blame you. We have all come a long way, and we must keep going just a little longer.”

With that, the leader launched himself down the cliff side, sliding towards the water. The crowd of penguins followed him, all but the lying penguin. He watched from the top of the cliff, unable to join them, yet also unable to look away. His eyes closed as the final member of his kin entered the water, and did not open for a long time. In his mind he heard the words of his late guide and realized that although he had told the truth in the end, it didn’t matter.

Not all words can be taken back, and not all words can be un-listened to. Once they are out in the world they remain in it, no matter how much we wish it wasn’t so.

——-

Now, the reactions to this story were widely varied, which I did not actually expect.

My mother found it incredibly depressing, especially how the ‘lying penguin’ never received a proper name. I explained that I didn’t think he needed one, none of the penguins got one, but for some reason it really seemed to bother her.

A friend of mine insisted that I censor it so that the penguins did not all enter the water in the end, that some saw the truth in the lying penguins final statement and turned back, but I felt like that would go against the point a bit, so I refused.

My coworker seemed very hung up on my choice of penguins as the species with which this occurred, and my only real answer to this is that I watched a documentary on them a few weeks ago and it must have been stuck in my head, waiting for a chance like this!

Overall I found this assignment very different from what I am used to, and it was nice to be able to stretch my creative writing muscles a bit. It certainly turned out longer than I thought it would, but I think the point echoes fairly strongly throughout the story.

Although I haven’t run into this exact problem in my life so far, the idea of telling a lie and then having to admit to that lie has come up before, so I sympathize with the lying penguin, as I assume most would. As the youngest of three I think my feeling of being younger, more immature, not as ‘ready for the world’ as my siblings definitely came through in this piece, and I certainly remember lying to seem more mature. It is interesting to see how much of myself is reflected in this story, actually. I was unaware of it until I had read it over multiple times, but as much as I dislike the character of the lying penguin it is too easy to see myself, and anyone else who has felt belittled or not good enough, in him.

Thank you for reading, and don’t be the lying penguin! 🙂

 

– Christie

The idea of a culture being labeled as either an “oral culture” or a “written culture” had never occurred to me prior to the readings for this week, and I agree with Chamberlin’s argument within his book, “If This is Your Land, Where are Your Stories”, as well as Courtney MacNeil’s from her article, “Orality”, that defining a culture as being “oral” or “written” is a mistake.

Chamberlin argues against this notion of being either “oral” or “written” by pointing out that cultures are not truly one or the other. Yes, some cultures lack a written alphabetic language, but that does not mean they do not contain other forms of writing. He pinpoints examples as being “woven and beaded belts and blankets, knotted and coloured strings”, as well as carvings, paintings, and other ways to symbolize and leave messages (Chamberlin, 19). So-called “written cultures” are not purely written, either. Although I would most certainly belong to what some would mistakenly label a “written culture”, I am also highly involved in several oral traditions that Chamberlin points out, and some that he does not. As a retail worker I participate in a very set conversation with each customer, each of us participating in the verbal dance that is, I’m sure, very familiar to us all.

“Hello! How are you today?” “Good, you?” “Good.”

Although the rest of the conversation may go off in a different direction, this beginning scarcely changes, and I would argue that it is almost certainly one of the “oral traditions” that Chamberlin mentions, as it fits with his other examples of churches, schools, and parliaments (Chamberlin, 20).

MacNeil picks up this idea within her article, and proceeds to discuss how integral and central orality as “a means of human communication”, which is certainly needed within virtually any culture (MacNeil, “Orality”). She also argues against the depiction of orality as being “isolat[ed] from literacy, or as subservient to it” (MacNeil, “Orality”). Chamberlin runs across the same thought by bringing up the mistake that some make by placing cultures without a written alphabet as primitive (Chamberlin, 19). Either of these beliefs would appear to be a mistake, as just because two cultures differ in terms of how their stories are recorded, or their agreements made does not place one above the other. Cultures are not something that can be weighed, tagged, and placed into a box, they are something that needs to be experienced in order to begin to understand. Those who try to place cultures into such basic categories as “oral” or “written” do not understand the depth that cultures go, as they cannot be one or the other, traditions from both will appear if someone looks hard enough.

It is for the distinct benefit of some that this duality occurs, as can be seen from the start of Laurie Green’s article, “Oral Culture and the World of Words”. Green is dyslexic, and therefore struggles with reading and writing, but still pushed towards a career in the clergy, which involved a fair amount of both. She pushes for equal portions of oral and written work in schools in order to get the best results (Green, 335). As I have a few family members with dyslexia, this article was of particular interest to me as I have seen them struggle firsthand, and have to wonder whether a more oral-based education would have aided them.

This discussion on the oral and the written within various cultures led me to look inward to try to decide whether I sway more towards one than the other. The first thing to pop into my mind is the that I, like many others of my generation, am almost constantly glued to my cell phone. At first glance this would seem to sway me towards the oral, as the primary use of the phone was once for speaking, but now I find I am just as often reading articles or texting, showing that even an object as common as a cell phone is still subject to the push and pull of both the oral, and the written. Naomi S. Baron describes the relationship between the two in her article, “Do Mobile Technologies Reshape Speaking, Writing, or Reading”. It’s an interesting article that fits in well with the idea and modernity of this course, and after reading it I find myself applying the ideas about mobile technologies towards the social media of our society today, including this blog. Although this blog itself is written, while typing it up I have been listening to a variety of material, and spoken to one about its content. Not even while working on a written piece can I get away from the oral.

Works Cited:

Baron, Naomi S. “Do Mobile Technologies Reshape Speaking, Writing, Or Reading?” Mobile Media and Communication 1.1 (2013): 134-140. Web. 14 Jan. 2015.

Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This is Your Land, Where are Your Stories? Finding Common Ground. Vintage Canada. Toronto. 2004. Print.

Green, Laurie. “Oral Culture and the World of Words.” Theology 102 (1999): 328-335. Web. 14 Jan 2015.

MacNeil, Courtney. “Orality.” The Chicago School of Media Theory. The University of Chicago. 2007. Web. 13 Jan 2015. <http://lucian.uchicago.edu/blogs/mediatheory/keywords/orality/>

 

 

Hello, and welcome to my blog! My name is Christie and I am in my final year at UBC pursuing a major in History, with a concentration in Canadian History. This will constitute my first serious attempt at a blog and I relish the chance to delve into a new area. I have been a reader of various blogs for years, primarily fashion or the like, so this is a bit of a step outside of my comfort zone.

English 470 caught my eye first due to the content, but this idea of blogging having such an integral role within the course definitely drew me in. When I watched the welcome video of the course and realized it was to bear the tongue-in-cheek title of “Oh Canada!… Our Home and Native Land?” my desire to take English 470 was solidified.

Now, when it comes to myself and my relationship with Canada, my family has long standing roots in Canada, and I have written several papers in the past discussing them and their impact on me. My maternal grandmother’s family goes back eleven generations within Canada, (we even have a lake named after my family in the Okanagan), and yet she married a first generation Italian immigrant. As this occurred in the early 1940’s, her family was absolutely distraught. He was not Canadian enough for them, not Christian enough, and not good enough. Luckily she ignored them, married him, and a generation later here I am! If my grandmother had not seen around her own family’s narrow description of Canadian then I would not be here today. Here’s a picture of the happy couple:

As a History major I have spent a fair bit of my time at UBC discussing not only what is and what isn’t ‘Canadian’, but also looking into indigenous cultures from around the world and I have developed a definite interest in both subjects. In a previous course I delved into the idea of oral history as a legitimate one and we discussed its use in Canadian courts, so I am intrigued to take a look at storytelling and everything it can mean once again. I have also read a few of the books I noticed on the syllabus already, and look forward to going over them in a more academic context than reading in my spare time.

With this course focusing on Canada I thought it pertinent to look into what the general public sees as being ‘Canadian’, and was somewhat surprised by the two following articles, take a look and tell me what you think! They both seem to be focused on saying more about what isn’t Canadian than what is.