First year of University has been filled with realizations and moments of introspection that I haven’t experienced at any point in my life prior. A particular moment that resonated strongly with me was when we really immersed ourselves into the genre of trauma. Not exactly a moment per se but definitely a topic. It hit me strongest when we read Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

The aspect of trauma that I had not explored extensively was comprehending it as something beyond a phase. I heard trauma and I thought of it loosely as a step by step program. You experience some event that has a painful effect on you, you struggle to deal with it, then you move on. It exists as a traumatic experience from then onwards, it remains simply as something that happened. What I had not entirely explored was how people rarely leave their traumas behind. Sometimes pain by trauma isn’t something that happened, it can be something that is happening.

I say this, but at the same time I still think that I understood trauma to be something that sticks around for people. I think, however, that I saw the traumatic aspects of people as their “sad side”. In a sense, I guess I only saw trauma as infiltrating the sad and depressed areas of peoples lives. The realization that I came to more fully, however, was that trauma doesn’t exist only in your dark corners, it can become the dominating force in all areas of your life and personality.

The way that the grandfather in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close loses control over his trauma and has it take over him is when I understood the power that an undying trauma can have. In every sense both physically and emotionally the trauma became this man. He couldn’t speak for it brought him too close to his experience of trauma, he couldn’t even confront his trauma so he created areas that existed as nothingness where he merely existed to exist.

This trauma understanding instilled in me a realization towards the process of trauma. I realized, getting past a trauma isn’t about swimming through a choppy canal and it’s not about trying really hard to not be sad anymore. Getting past a trauma is about accepting that the trauma is a part of you but that it doesn’t need to consume you. Getting through trauma isn’t automatic, it doesn’t come just by having time pass by, it comes by confrontation. Trauma is intimidating and unforgiving, it doesn’t care about you at all as long as it consumes you. Trauma won’t stop until you can’t separate the trauma from yourself.

I want to end my final blog with a few questions of introspection, are you aware of a trauma that is having an effect on you? Are you aware of how much of an effect it has on you? Is that effect negative or positive? The most salient point that I want to draw from this is that addressing trauma and pain is important and necessary, without it you will get lost and your trauma will do more harm then you could anticipate.

Hope you enjoyed my blogs,

Isaiah

Foer, Jonathan Safran. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. Boston, MA: Mariner, 2005. Print.

Good evening/morning/afternoon keen readers,

“Beloveds, we wake up in the morning to darkness and watch it turn into lightness with hope” (Spahr 15)

Spahr’s perspective in this quote sparks a very genuine feeling in me. Sometimes, when you wake up in this world, it’s dark. What is lucky about the situation that myself, and spahr, have found ourselves in is that our darkness turns to light. We have been lucky enough to experience the side of the world where happiness and joy is expected as a given. That we deserve happiness in this world and for things to be given to us. What Spahr acknowledges in this line, abstractly, is that we are in this position, but that “we” doesn’t refer to everyone.

Beds are an equalizer, no matter where you are in the world, you have a bed. Your bed may look different than the next person but wherever you lie down to sleep, that is your bed. This one act both unites and pulls us apart. What follows our wake up is what distinguishes us. Someone may wake up to darkness, but there morning routine of a healthy breakfast and exercise is all it takes for them enter the joyful lightness of their day. Whereas someone who wakes up after a night of sleeping on the streets has no escape from their darkness. It’s not something that any amount of sunshine is going to change.

Spahr uses darkness both figuratively and literally. We wake to darkness until the sun rises and we are met with lightness, this aspect is another equalizer of waking up. We all experience the darkness of night and the lightness of day to some degree. The darkness that we wake to, figuratively, is what tears us apart. We, speaking from the perspective of the privileged, have the benefit of escape from our darkness. We can put it behind us each day. What people who live in situations void of privilege experience is a darkness that isn’t as easy to shake, a darkness that encompasses their identity. Spahr is acutely aware of her privilege in this line and it is reflected throughout her poem.

As I often do, I’m going to end this blog with some reflective questions. What does it like to hide your darkness? To fake the happiness and joy and show the world a face that doesn’t reflect your internal emotions? On a day to day basis how many people experience a darkness inside them not visible to the rest of us? How much darkness do I have that people don’t see? How much do you have?

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Hello keen readers!

For this blog I’m going to focus primarily on a quote from Judith Butler’s Frames of War in the chapter, “Survivability, Vulnerability, Affect”. The quote refers to the relational aspects of dehumanizing our enemies, “Those we kill are not quite human, and not quite alive, which means that we do not feel the same horror and outrage over the loss of their lives as we do over the loss of those lives that bear national or religious similarity to our own.” (42) The quote stands out so strongly to me as I can relate it to so many situations in history. It’s saying how we dehumanize our enemies, they become statistics before we’ve even killed them. In our eyes they’re practically already dead and we’re just doing our duty by finishing the job.

Genocides consist of the devaluing and the dehumanizing of a certain people or religion, that’s what makes it so scary. An example is the Holocaust when Nazi Germany attempted to actualize their “Final Solution” and exterminate the Jewish race. They did not see the Jews as humans, they saw them as potential statistics. To them they were already dead, they just had to find out how to get rid of them once and for all. Butler puts it more eloquently herself earlier in this chapter, “When a population appears as a direct threat to my life, they do not appear as lives”(42).

The dangerous thing about vulnerability and fear is that the mind can be easily manipulated to think that certain things are threats when they aren’t. Powerful, intelligent, and malicious leaders have been known to declare people as threats in such convincing ways that the population believes them. The peoples definition of threat, and the fear that that threat can instil, is a powerful and dangerous thing. When you see someone as a threat they no longer become a human, they become a target, an enemy, an assignment, and most of all a statistic.

Does this makes you re-evaluate what you consider a threat? How may you have been manipulated into deciding who your enemies are? How might your enemies have chosen you as their threat? These are the questions we need to ask ourselves and our societies if we want coexistence and progression to be effective.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Butler, Judith. Frames of War: When Is Life Grievable? London: Verso, 2009. Print.

“I remember they were interviewing the father of a missing girl. I remember his eyebrows. I remember his sadly cleanly shaven face.” (224) 

There is a very distinct level of sorrow to this quote. The phrase “sadly cleanly shaven face” brings up an image of a man with many worries in his life, wasting his time shaving. He has so many things on his mind and tasks to accomplish but he knows that there’s only so much that he can do. He puts time aside to shave his face. The sad image of a man with no more options left attempting to rebuild himself step by step, starting with his daily routine of shaving.

This image conjures up the theme of coping mechanisms. The book that we’ve been reading in class, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” by Jonathan Safran Foer, involves different themes and traumas and illustrates how these traumas have affected the characters. One challenge that remains consistent among the different characters is the attempt to cope with the trauma of loosing a loved one. The way that people cope with death is arguably the driving theme of the entire novel. Whether it be coping through silence or by desperately trying to search for closure on a journey that has no finish line. Two of the characters attempting to cope with tragedy, Oskar and Thomas Schell Sr, resonated most strongly with me. Oskar’s father died on 9/11 as the towers came down. Thomas Schell Sr. lost his beloved partner and his first unborn child during the firebombings in Dresden.

Oskar attempts to cope with his father’s death by desperately seeking some sort of closure. In a way, he refuses to accept the fact that his father’s life is over. He feels that somehow his journey will allow him to stay close to his father just a little bit longer. He hopes to continue his bond with his father through this journey, and find out something to make sense of it all.

Thomas Schell Sr. lost his partner, Anna, and unborn child during the devastating firebombings in Dresden. Before their death, Thomas was a talkative man with many thoughts to share. After the death he slowly began to lose the ability to speak; he lost himself and was engulfed by the grief. His coping mechanism was defeat, he became the shell of a man and removed himself from the world emotionally. He was defeated by the grief and could no longer speak; all he felt was loss and misery. His coping mechanism was to remove himself from the world that took everything that mattered.

Hearing about loss on this scale always induces introspection into my own life. It makes me question why I can’t be at maximum happiness when everyone that is important to me is still alive, why can’t I be as happy as Thomas would’ve been if Anna came back to him? Or if Oskar had found out that his dad was late for his meeting in the World Trade Centre and was still able to come home? It puts into perspective how emotions are truly spectrum based. You can’t experience intense happiness until you’ve experienced crushing sadness. You can’t truly appreciate something special until you’ve lost something special. This book takes place primarily in the coping period of grief. It touches on the prospect of growth and newfound happiness when the therapist asks Oskar, “Do you think any good can come from your father’s death?” (203). Grief and the loss of a loved one can be defeating and suffocatingly depressing. Pain and suffering is an important experience to have, and how you deal with these emotions is also deeply important.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

References

Foer, Jonathan Safran. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. Boston, MA: Mariner, 2005. Print.

Hello Readers!

Recently our ASTU class spent time interacting and engaging with the UBC archives. The archives are a place where UBC collects historical original documents that have been sent in by donors and authors.The trip was structured for us to view and interact with the obtained material regarding Joy Kogawa’s novels: Obasan and Naomi’s Road (we recently read Obasan in class). Unsurprisingly, the trip unearthed a few realizations about the whole literary process. For starters, simply being in the room with the original information laid out in front us was incredibly humbling. Being able to visualize the amount of effort and work that goes into a novel was astonishing. Amongst the items for viewing was positive and negative feedback, rejection letters, correspondence, rough drafts, and much more. Throughout this experience three things distinctly stood out, the extensive process behind a book, the character of Kogawa, and her grasp on her novel.

Reading the rejection letters instilled me with an increased sense of respect towards Kogawa. Oftentimes you hear about the resilience required for authors to follow through with a novel, but actually seeing what the rejection looks like puts a whole new face to the topic. To put so many long hours into a piece of work only to have an editor condemn it by saying, “we see problems with the marketing of this story” (from: Janet Turnbull, Rejection Letters, Box 70 File 1). Something so simple yet so deflating for Kogawa to be reading. This impressed me, Kogawa must have read numerous rejection letters and just took them in her stride and moved on. The archives present a unique opportunity, to be able to visually see and touch these materials makes everything more realistic and humanizes the author. It makes authors seem less like machines producing well crafted sentences, and more like people writing and labouring over a story. The passion becomes more evident when you can see the process in such an interactive way.

Certain sections of the archives showed different things, one area showed us the negative and positive feedback for the novel. In these areas we were presented with a new perspective to the book. Being able to see all the different views and interpretations on the novel made me re-evaluate how I looked at it. It showed a level of expertise both on the critics end, by dissecting the book so diligently, and Kogawa’s side, by being resolute in her vision of the novel.

In addition to Kogawa’s resilience, the archives gave me a look into her story writing abilities. Before the archives I wasn’t aware that she had adapted Obasan into the children’s book Naomi’s Road. I found out about this adaptation through the readers correspondence. Reading them instilled me with an additionally increased amount of respect for Kogawa. The kids who read Naomi’s Road were all big fans and had some adorable things to say to Kogawa. What impressed me about this was that Kogawa was able to recreate such an advanced and emotionally intense story for such a young audience, whilst still receive such a positive response. The responses did leave me with a couple of questions though for Kogawa: in the recreation of the novel what parts did you leave out specifically? In one of the responses I learned that the main characters mother was never revealed to have been bombed, how did Kogawa deal with this in a children’s book? Mark Nonkes was clearly curious too, he asked, “I wonder about did Naomi’s mom ever come back?” (from: Mark Nonkes letter to Kogawa, Box 28 File 3)

In the age where everything is accessible by media we often forget the beauty and complexities behind a piece of writing. Above all else, this is what resonated with me the most. It’s easy to look past how much work and time goes into a piece of writing when the only interaction you have with it writing is reading it. Being in the archives gave us an opportunity to dissect and experience the text to a much deeper level.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Sources:

Nonkes, Mark. Letter from Mark Nonkes to Joy Kogawa. 18 April 1990. Box 28 File 3. Joy Kogawa Fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada

Turnbull, Janet. Rejection Letter from Janet Turnbull. 22 May 1980. Box 70 File 1. Joy Kogawa Fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada

The past week or so we have been reading the graphic narrative: Safe Area Gorazde. Reading graphic narratives like this always have a way of making me take perspective and evaluate the countless privileges that have been a part of my life. The novel takes place in the UN declared “safe area” Gorazde and is told from the perspective of the author, Joe Sacco, and the people that he interviews. He goes from person to person asking them to recollect their experiences of the war and the ethnic cleansing that happened by the Serbians towards the non-Serbian/”disloyal” Serbian population of Bosnia. The author Joe Sacco challenges and addresses many concepts and issues amongst the remaining population.

One of the more prevalent and humbling issues covered is that of the choice, or lack thereof, for the population of Gorazde. Throughout the novel Sacco represents different things to the citizens, he represents America, the english language, journalism, and most of all, he represents the idea of escape. The idea of a better life out there that is modern and filled with wonderful material items like Levi jeans, pretty girls and handsome men. This idea of escape revolves around elements of choice, for the Gorazdans all of their choices are limited. The act of leaving is not within their reach, Sacco represents choice as much as he represents escape. Choice and escape are entangled, they coincide and align with each other. 

Within the society that the Gorazdans have been left with, choices are despairingly limited. They can’t leave Gorazde because they are still surrounded by hostile Serbian forces. Within Gorazde their choices are limited, what with a crippled economy and practically already knowing everyone within the city.

There are elements in the book that illustrate examples of when a choice, that may seem so unimportant and irrelevant to us westerners, is everything they have. In the section “Total War” there is a panel where you see a child unwrapping a candy in his hands with a look of bliss on his face (132). Sacco sets up the scene and describes how, when it comes to candy, he gives the children the choice of what they will do with it. Instead of giving the candy to their parents, or having the children work for the candy, he just lets them have it. He lets the children have this tiny element of sanity and hope be entirely theirs, giving them complete control. This may seem like an irrelevant and minimal choice to us, but it means something to the children.

The element of choice in this panel illustrates the spectrum of control present for the citizens. For them being able to choose what they do with their candies is a relatively large task. Whereas for us in the western world a big choice is considered what kind of car we’ll buy, or what university we’re going to attend. Our surroundings and upbringings have gifted us with more than we even realize. For us the element of choice is inherent, we expect and demand numerous choices. When you go out for a nice meal you expect options, you expect to choose what you please and desire. If you don’t like anything on the menu you go to a different restaurant. Choice is everywhere, choice is freedom and individuality, it creates and sculpt our identity. What we choose to do with our life determines who we are as people. We take for granted the limitlessness of our lives compared to other ones. What would your life look like if choice was taken from you? Look at yourself and think about what choice means and looks like in your everyday life? Acknowledge the privilege that so many of us have been lucky enough to possess.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Sources:

Sacco, Joe. “Total War.” Safe Area Goražde. Seattle, WA: Fantagraphics, 2000. 132. Print.

I recently finished reading “Perspolis”, by Marjane Satrapi, upon finishing it I was left with a unique perspective on the Iranian youth. Persepolis is a graphic narrative that tackles the topic of being a kid in the midst of a revolution, and the rise of Islamic fundamentalism. Persepolis stands out to me and resonates because of Satrapis honesty. She recalls her youth in a way that is incredibly relatable and bold. She humanizes what it is like to grow up in the midst of a revolution. She introduces aspects of life that affect kids all over the world, and relates them to her experiences.

Every one wants to think that their parents are the coolest, the toughest, the most heroic, but in privileged western society that looks very different. Over here that might mean that your dad can build a cool treehouse for you, or that your mom is an above average skier. These things, seemingly, mean so much to us, and it’s the same way for Satrapi. But for her, she compares her family to others in the midst of a revolution. She has to compete with her friends over who’s parent has suffered more at the hands of the Shah, who has experienced more torture, who has taken more risks. She feels disappointed that her father is merely a protestor with a keen eye for justice and what the right thing to do is. It’s not until pg. 54, when she meets her uncle Anoosh, that she feels real familial pride.

Scenes like these make relating to “Persepolis” an entirely realistic experience. Nothing else that I have
read on the Iranian Revolution and the rise of Islamic fundamentalism has given me such a fresh perspective.

Satrapi accomplishes her goal brilliantly of trying to show a fresh perspective on the middle eastern conflicts and religion. The way that she talks about religion is incredibly mature and advanced, but spoken through the words of a young woman make it seem as if it is such a simple topic. The way that she illustrates the abandonment of God, and how she feels as if his help is useless. On pg. 70 Satrapi exclaims at God: “Shut up, you! Get out of my life!!! I never want to see you again!”. There is a redefinition of religion for Satrapi. She succeeds in showing the spectrum of emotion and frustration towards religion in an entirely childish way, but at the same time also in a very advanced way. The dialogue and emotions are ones that people of all ages can relate to, but the critique and questioning of God is something that most people do not do until they are much older. 

Satrapi manages to show martyrs in a way that I have never seen before. In some scenes you see her mocking martyrs as if it is a joke (pg. 97), and in other scenes you see her absent-mindedly beating her chest in mourning (pg. 95). Satrapis understanding of the manipulation that the military and government have on the youth is wise and mature.

After reading this I had some thoughts on the spectrum of environments todays youth experience. I wonder, can all kids and teenagers have such a progressive and positive outlook on life if their environment reflects an entirely different outlook? How many kids out there have been shaped negatively by Islamic fundamentalism? How much different would Satrapi’s life look if her parents were not so progressive? All the answers elude me, one thing I do know, however, is that Marjane Satrapi has bravely put out one of the most refreshing and groundbreaking pieces of work that will affect the way that the western world views the middle east.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Sources:

Marjane Satrapi, “The Complete Persepolis”, (2004), pg. 54, 70, 95, 97

Hello, this is Isaiah, an Arts CAP student at UBC. In class we have been discussing how people remember certain events, and how information is shared and taught about those events. I am writing to you and hoping to shed an important perspective on one of the most tragic events in human history, and share a learning experience that I had that was connected to it. The Holocaust redefines what the limits of evil can be, it proves to the world that cruelty has no bounds, that mercy is a foreign concept to some people, and that the human spirit and mind can be broken down and moulded. For those of you who do not know, the Holocaust was the systematic murder of eleven million people by Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Regime. Six million of those people were Jews. In the wake of an event as crushing and brutal as the Holocaust many people, myself included, wonder: how exactly should I remember the holocaust? This question is too large for me to tackle in one blog post. I’m not here to provide you with a direct, straightforward answer to this question, that would be insensitive of me, considering the spectrum of involvement that people have in the Holocaust. I will just be going into one aspect of remembrance towards the Holocaust.

I spent the last year in Israel doing a gap year program. One portion of the program involved an 8 day seminar to Poland where we visited many of the concentration camps involved in the systematic murders. A large portion of the seminar was discussing what it should like to remember the Holocaust. I am here to share some of the ideas and conversations that I took part in.

Forgetting about the Holocaust is the wrong way to approach the situation. Remembrance is important for events like these, we should pay respect to the countless people who lost their lives, we should learn from the mistakes of others. How we should pay respect, is the question. When remembering, what aspects should we remember? A portion of the tour was in the concentration camp: Auschwitz I, the tour ended with an option to go into Block 11. Block 11 was where the Nazis would punish and torture the prisoners of Auschwitz I for crimes that they saw fit to deserve punishment. (For more information on Block 11 please follow this link: http://www.scrapbookpages.com/AuschwitzScrapbook/Tour/Auschwitz1/Auschwitz06.html)

When we came to this portion the tour guide heavily discouraged that we go into this part of the camp. At first I was confused and, because we were in a rush, I went in anyways. At the time I was in the mindset that the best way to remember is to absorb as much information as possible so I walked right in, it sickened me. In hindsight, I am conflicted. The tour guide explained that the reason why he discouraged us to go in was because it was the wrong area of the holocaust to remember. He felt that when people share stories of the holocaust they like to compare stories and see who has the most shocking information. I understand this point of view, I see where he was coming from, but I am still unsure of, if I had to do it over again, would I still have gone in? (This is not to say that I think that that Block 11 was the most gruesome part of the Holocaust, I am not trying to make any sweeping statements, I am just sharing an experience that I went through.) The question I always have to ask myself is: what would the victims want? How would they want to be remembered? Would they want us to know everything? Would they want us to know all the pain they went through? Or would all they want is for us to remember their name? These are the questions I ask myself every time the topic of remembering the Holocaust comes up. Some interesting links regarding this topic are as follows:

http://www.thejc.com/comment-and-debate/essays/124619/the-importance-remembering-holocaust

http://www.ushmm.org/remember/days-of-remembrance/why-we-remember    

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