Image taken from: http://themainlander.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/seq5.jpeg

“Activism” is not a word shared by everyone in describing the activities and programs at the Downtown Eastside Neighbourhood House. I have always felt that the title “activist” was a badge earned, something you couldn’t just call yourself but something that had to be demonstrated in your actions and beliefs, sort of like “artist” or “superhero.” However, the word evokes a specific kind of social involvement for a lot of people at the Neighbourhood House, one that they try to distance themselves from by substituting in other words to describe their activities and involvement. In particular, “education,” both as a replacement term for the kinds of activities I have described as “activism” as well as a process in and of itself, has played an important role in setting the Neighbourhood House apart from other service providers and establishing a unique community in the heart of Vancouver.

Like the Community Transformational Organizing Strategy (CTOS) implemented by Asian Immigrant Women Advocates (AIWA), the DTES Neighbourhood House’s emphasizes education, skill building, and empowerment, although they use no formal terms or model to describe what they do. I first came across peoples’ idea of the Neighbourhood House as a place of education in an interview I conducted with a staff member.  She explained that she was hesitant to include the word “activist” in her job title because she did not feel that her role, or the role of the Neighbourhood House, was to advocate on anyone’s behalf. When I asked what word she would use in place, she mentioned “educator” or “education” in describing the activities at the Neighbourhood House. In another interview I did with another staff member, he explained that the biggest role of the food programs at the Neighbourhood House was to teach people the basic skills they needed to obtain and prepare nutritious foods. Similar to AIWA and the CTOS model, the focus and goals of these programs ends up being placed on self-activity and empowerment rather than any successes in policy change.

Education acts as a process that allows people to assert agency on a more intimate level and the decision to participate in wider political action becomes an informed decision of the individual. Every activity is a discussion, a workshop, a movie screening, or a talk and it is rare to see activities where people organize protests or even pass around petitions. After describing her role as an “educator” at the Neighbourhood House, one of the staff members I interviewed went on to explain that her job was to “inspire and train activists.” This is what separates the Neighbourhood House from other groups and service providers in the area: they do not advocate on behalf of anyone nor do they passively supply people with services without leaving room for discussion and development. A couple of people have explained to me that this is because they want to be as inclusive and active as possible without putting any one person off because of their hesitancy to be involved in more opinionated and aggressive action. Education, and education surrounding the preparation and consumption of food in particular, appeals to almost everybody (“we all have to eat” – echoed by two of my interviewees), is inclusive (we all have to eat and we are also all capable of learning new things), and most importantly, it empowers people to assert agency in their own daily lives.

Image taken from http://www.insidevancouver.ca/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/DTES.jpg

I have been working at the Downtown Eastside Neighbourhood House for the past few weeks serving food during the lunchtime drop in. I am realizing that it is not an easy place to be. Even before I moved to Vancouver, people constantly reminded me of the notoriety of the area as a place where Vancouver’s most destitute come to reside. I have never really been able to take these warnings seriously; most remind me of children’s stories of Bogeymen and Demon Ghosts, tales to keep us away from the fire, stories that demonize the poor and dig deeper lines of separation between people. Although I recognize a lot of the rhetoric of fear and loathing as largely unfounded, I cannot help but feel a sense of discomfort when interacting with people at my field site. Anthropology recognizes that any interaction between researcher and participant will inevitably influence data that is collected. As Burawoy describes, these contextual effects can be highly informative and offer new lines of insight. Therefore, I have tried to use these moments of discomfort in my interpersonal interactions to inform my research and better understand the dynamics of community in the area.

I can be very shy and passive and I am absolutely terrified of conflict, which has made it difficult for me to maintain dialogue and has distanced me from the people I am working with. Sometimes however, the few verbal interactions I have had with people end up pushing me to be more aggressive, particularly with men. I have had guys ask, “hey gorgeous, are you on the menu?” and I feel disgusted and angry. I have to calm the urge to tell people to eff off. I must be polite, calmingly Canadian polite. Except that one time someone asked if I would sell him my panties. Gut response got the best of me, “fuck off, no.” I am constantly at one extreme or the other, fight or flight, afraid or aggressive, because people are constantly transgressing my personal boundaries either intentionally or unintentionally. Even speaking to women is difficult because many of them are themselves being aggressive or defensive, perhaps for the same reasons I am behaving this way. Within the neighbourhood house itself, these experiences and interactions have meant that I try to be as passive of an observer as possible and focus on interviewing volunteers rather than community members. Although not the ideal way I would like to interact with people, I have to concede to my own limitations and discomfort and try and find ways to work with what I have.

The DTES is not the demonic hell hole that people constantly depict it as; there are nodes of community that certainly do exist and the DTES Neighbourhood house is one such venue. Although my interactions with people in this community are limited by my discomfort, I am using these interactions to inform my analytical approach and further explore how they might reflect deeper issues of community building and belongingness. I try to keep in mind Burawoy’s assertion that any sort of intervention between researcher and participant, even from the most passive observer, can be both informative and insightful.