This week we read the article “On Thinking Like a State and Reading (about) Refugees” , where the author Carrie Dawson uses Dionne Brand’s novel What We All Long For to illustrate a point about how people do/ should treat refugee’s. Her basic argument is that we, as people, should not have to necessary like the people that feel the need to flee their home country in order to allow them that right to flee. While her basic idea seems easy enough to grasp for most people, I feel as though human tendencies make us more willing to extend help to those that we feel empathy for. Willie Van Peer, as we read at the beginning of last term, argues that empathy can be learned though things such as fiction, and that it can foster the necessary imagination needed to feel empathy and evoke change. I feel as if Dawson’s approach, and by extension Brands approach, are too idealistic for human nature to allow. Van Peer’s approach is more realistic, as it allows for people to grow- Brand and Dawson expect us to be at that point already. By expecting every and all people to be at a point where basic human rights are never questioned is a good idea, but in the real world sometimes people need a little push in the right direction- as it were. While I agree that human rights should be extended to all people, not only those who we feel empathy for I do not pretend to ignore human nature. People, it seems, react more positively towards other when given the chance to feel empathy for them. I think that the approach of Dawson and Brand is therefore a bit counter-intuitive, as it fosters an imagination in which the reader does not feel empathy- and perhaps instead feels dislike- towards the characters, and thus is unable to get to a point where they feel empathy.

What We All Long For is a multi- layered narrative that combines the stories and experiences from the perspective of four friends, whom all share a common history of being second generation immigrants. Although from different ethnic and national backgrounds the four friends, Tuyen, Carla, Jackie and Oku, have a deeply rooted bond in their inability to identify as solely Canadian, and simultaneously unable to identify with their own diverse family heritage.

This was similar to the novel Obasan that we read at the beginning of the year. Obasan also deals with the hardships of second generation immigrants may face, particularity the inability to identity completely as Canadian. However, Obasan also includes many vantage points to build sympathy towards the main character, Naomi , that Brand does not include in her novel. Empathy is most notably constructed in Obasan through the narrative that it is told through the eyes of a child. Brand’s construction focused almost entirely on the perspective of young adults struggling to find their identity. While I do not deny that Tuyen, Carla, Jackie and Oku struggle with their identity, feeling empathy towards an innocent child is significantly easier in this case. In fact, Tuyen often comes across as whiny and ungrateful for other aspects of her life- not just her identity. Through this I found myself lacking compassion for Tuyen as well as the other characters, whereas I felt deep sorrow for the young child who was lost in the way of finding her identity.

While I acknowledge the approach Brand took by purposefully constructing her characters in such a way as to make it difficult to feel compassion for them, I feel as if the approach in Obsasan was significantly more effective in conveying a sense of empathy.

The first time I witnessed the Vancouver’s downtown east side was four years ago. I was here for vacation and took a detour from our comfortable hotel and in less than 15 minutes ended up in a neighborhood like none I had ever seen before. Growing up in a small town in Saskatchewan the “rough neighborhood” of town really consisted of a old couple houses- not an entire neighborhood and nothing to the extent of what was and still is here in Vancouver. As I looked upon the scattered rows of people, most looked sad, lost or confused- I felt the same way. This stark and intense transition that takes place in literally walking distance from the pristine and luxurious atmosphere of downtown to the east side streets left me utterly speechless. It is here that an extremely difficult and treacherous life is lead by many here in Vancouver- particularly Aboriginal women. It is also here in this neighborhood of poverty and sadness that the Annual Women’s Memorial March, a march which recognizes missing and murdered women of the downtown east side. Here amongst those living in one of the poorest areas of the entire country are those who march and seek to find answers and hope for their loved ones. This compassion is also fueled by anger by those that feel as if the missing women have failed to have been given adequate measures to be found due to the area in which they lived. The march hopes not only to honor those missing but to build hope, support and attention to the increasing instances of missing or murdered women in Vancouver.

While reading the “Three Day Road” it is obvious how the narrative dimensions develop both plot and character growth. This story, told in a series of back flashes of both Niska and her nephew Xavior, builds layers of present day and past experiences relating to a variety of issues surrounding colonialism and WWI from the perspective of First Nations in Canada. Some of these issues touch on the struggle to find acceptance in both present and past- in both Canada and the unfamiliar territory of WWI; as well as the Residential School system, loss of culture and criminalization of culture.

The structure of the narrative reflects that of “the Handmaids Tale” which also utilizes time and back flashes to create a necessary depth to the characters often essential to create a strong emotional bond to the characters personalities and experiences. This also conveys necessary, perhaps historical, information for the reader to have an insightful perspective of that of the characters. This perspective may make or break the way the reader feels towards the characters; and may even explain why the characters feel a certain way. For example, it is necessary to character building to include information about both Xavior and Niskas encounters with residential schools. This gives different perspectives on how different genders and different age ranges remember their time in the schools. It is also relevant to for the time period in general to remind the reader of the dark realities of colonialism in the eyes of First Nations. Niska has vivid, forceful and violent memories of being taken to residential schools. She goes from being a privileged and respected member of her Native society to becoming lost in the assimilation of a culture that she does not understand. This undoubtedly effects how she feels towards the predominately “white” culture and causes her immense struggle with not only the cultural identity of her society as a whole but also her own personal identity. Xavior has a relatively brief experience in residential schools compared to that of his aunt, and instead fondly remembers embracing his culture through hunting and the survival skills he learned throughout his youth. The novel also focuses on a strong bond between Xavior and his friend Elijah, who assimilates better into “white” culture than Xavior. This in turn develops into Xavior’s feelings of envy, while and simultaneously resenting Elijah for his ability to fit in amongst the other Canadians. This is both advantageous and detrimental to his time in the war, as his hunting skills prove exceptionally prestigious for himself and Elijah, but he also feels alienated and resented by the other men serving. These feelings of exclusion are furthered by Xavoirs lack English. Elijah, who has adequate English and a likable personality, gets along exceptionally well with most of the other men. This also perplexes Xaviors feelings of being an outsider, as well as builds into further resentment of the Canadians, and to some extent Elijah. This complex and deep rooted resentment felt by both Xavior and Niska towards “white” culture is more easily apprehendable and relatable when built using narrative dimensions of time and flash backs.

Propaganda is used to manipulate and produce a certain view from its intended audience, often used to support or create a certain bias, usually based on partial information. This particular ad creates a spectacular illusion of life for children in residential schools in Canada. Complete with smiling children, cheerful music and other lightheartedness, this ad was everything a propaganda should aspire for. With all of this its almost painless to imagine- when portrayed so positively- that to a vulnerable and perhaps naïve Canadian populous the residential schools can be seen as an almost noble act of the Canadian government. This is especially ironic in the video, as it describes the previous Aboriginals way of life as one of “isolation and neglect”, had they not been so fortunate as to attend a residential school.

This ad was particularly interesting in relation to relatively recent Canadian history, in which significant acts of genocide and child labor can be seen in the residential schools. The United Nations define one act of genocide as “forcibly transferring children of the group to another group”. In Canada, by passing the “Indian Act” this effectively allowed the government to do just that. This is further perplexed by also noting that at these schools children were also subjected to unpaid, involuntary labor. This is in part due to lack of funding, and also to teach the children practical, domestic, non-traditional ways of life. This can actually be classified as child labor, since these practices strongly interfered with their actual education- an education which is, as the propaganda video would suggest, the reason this schooling system was implemented to begin with.

A realization of being a Canadian citizen is how easily it can be to be consumed under the thin veil of ignorance to racial and cultural discrimination in Canada. This not only shows how Propaganda was effective in the past, but how the long term effects of the residential schools are a very real, ongoing issue, facing First Nations in Canada.

http://www.un.org/en/preventgenocide/adviser/pdf/osapg_booklet_eng.pdf

The Handmaid’s Tale at first glance seems to be a sort of dystopian novel, depicting a world in which women are oppressed and given virtually no rights. While reading it, the treatment of women seems shocking, and almost unbelievable to me, a Canadian citizen who has the same rights as any man. However, once I started to think about it, the world does indeed have places where this oppression of women is almost as obvious as in The Handmaid’s Tale. A quick internet search for oppressed women brings up countless pages of news stories from the Middle East, especially in countries such as Saudi Arabia. The oppression of women in these countries relies often on the same weapon used in The Handmaid’s Tale – the restriction of access to knowledge. Many women in these countries believe the laws to be fair, once they understand them; the issue arises, they say, from the fact that what rights women do have and how the law works is rarely understood by women. This sort of knowledge in women is rare in these countries, and results in their being abused because of it. For example, like in The Handmaid’s Tale, in Saudi Arabia, fathers have guardianship over their daughters, and because of this can restrict their activities; this can lead to the actual transfer of guardianship (or ownership, some might call it) to another relative – male of course. The fact that many of these countries are theocracies ruled by Shariah law makes it even easier to see the disturbingly clear similarities between some of the countries in the Middle East today and Atwood’s Republic of Gilead.

In Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale”, the female characters in the novel almost without exception lack agency. Offred, the main narrator, is the prime example of this fact, as throughout the novel she has almost no agency in the making of any decisions regarding her physical and personal self. The extent of her utility to the Commander does not extend beyond the existence of her womb, and this is made obvious by the fact that she is granted no freedom of choice even with regards to her body. She is forced to have sex in order to reproduce, without being given a real choice – the ultimatum given to her is “reproduce, or become an Unwoman.” With regards to her daily life, Offred must submit to the orders of others; for example, when she goes shopping, even her route to the grocery store is predetermined, as is her shopping list. When asked by the commander to come to his study, it appears she is given a choice. Offred however understands that this is not really a choice, rather she must submit to his will even if he makes it seem like she has options, as not doing so would result in repercussions. Offred’s night-time trip to the club with the Commander, though illegal and unknown to anyone but those particpating, epitomizes her lack of agency, as even in this setting her choices (such as what she wears) must conform to the desires of the Commander. Offred therefore possesses no real agency, as her will is entirely shaped by the demands and desires of those who are above her in the social heirarchy.

The idea of women’s rights shockingly did not really exist until the uprise of feminism in the late 19th and early 20th century. Known as “first wave” feminism, it argued that women should have equal rights to men in general. For the most part, “first wave” feminism was focused on women’s suffrage, the changing of marriage laws to be fair to both men and women, and a reduction in the income gap by creating more equal opportunities in the workplace. This “first wave” was followed by a “second wave” in the 1960s. This focus was different in that it focused on not the women themselves, but the restrictive system that was in place. The goal of “second wave” feminism was to get rid of the oppressive systematic restrictions that control what women were able to do and how they were able to do it. “Second wave” feminism also distinctly turns men into the enemy, creating the idea that these are “man-haters”. In this sense, Pussy Riot is very much a group rooted in “second wave” feminism.

Pussy Riot is a Russian feminist fundamentalist group made up of roughly 11 women who organize guerrilla concerts in hopes of raising awareness of legislation that discriminates against women. By doing this, they appear to be attempting to bring down the structure that is currently in place, and as such may be labelled “second wave” feminist thought. Three of the members have been imprisoned for staging one of their signature concerts, and this has been met with almost universal condemnation by other states.

This sort of injustice is exactly what the Pussy Riot movement is trying to eliminate, and the actions taken by the Russian government in this situation emphasize just how far society has yet to advance in some parts of the world. While it is the actions of the prosecution and government that sent these women to jail, ultimately, it is the failure of systematic processes that discriminate against women. With the backlash Russia has faced from this event, and subsequently with their backwards “anti-gay” legislation, there is obvious evidence that most of the world believes this sort of discrimination to be wrong. The question is, what can we do to alter the systems and thinking processes in places like Russia that refuse to respond to the need for equality? Is there anything that can be done, or must we let time (hopefully) change the thought processes in Russia like it has in other parts of the world? There is certainly still much gender bias even in the western world, but it is not as defined as Russia’s current practices. These practices must be stopped.

District 9 presents its ideas of racism in a sort or, “please insert racial/ ethnic/ religious/ alien minority here” way. It is the way that people have established guidelines and procedures of dehumanization, or, in District 9’s case especially, to inflict literal alienation. It seems so obvious to deem the Prawns as “others” because they appear differently, act differently, and speak differently. The easiest way to deal with “others”, as shown through human history, is to strip them of their rights to be people in any sense at all. The segregation used to distinguish the Prawns living territory is another example of defining the rights of the desirable, and excluding those who do not seem to belong. Assimilation, by definition, is to adopt the ways of another culture, I would argue that the most common use of assimilation has a much stronger derogatory term than that given by the dictionary. In District 9 especially, it is not as much assimilation as derogation and oppression used in modern day practices particularity. The aliens were not even given the ability to “adopt” into a new way of life, they were banished into a garbage- ravenous slum against their will, and forced to become subjects of cruel and inhumane treatment, all whist unable to understand what was going on or why it was being done to them. Does this sound familiar? It should, because we saw it go on in our very country to an extent through the residential school systems, and through colonization itself; and it can also certainly be seen on a global basis. For those not taking a political lens to the film it might not look like something directly relatable to world events and world history, but that is exactly the films intent. The initial reaction to the Prawns overall depiction is extremely unpleasant, and is precisely how people can dehumanize them and take away their rights. Once this base line is established, the question usually becomes that of genocide or mere life for those alienated, and in District 9 we see both. Whether it is the torching of an alien breeding house, or the inexplicit “nonnegotiable relocation” being assigned to the Prawns in a way that they could not understand, the government is taking away any of their political rights through use of extremely degrading circumstances, of which the most disturbing part is its widely considered standard procedure in politics. Although District 9 uses aliens in place of humans, it is all too easy to see the stark comparisons that can be made by simply “inserting” someone else into the same outsider group as
was done to the Prawns.

The past few weeks in ASTU we have have been analyzing Willie van Peer’s “Literature, Imagination and Human Rights”. After completing Joy Kogawa’s novel, “Obasan” it is easy to draw comparisons between Willie van Peer’s idea that literature is capable of nurturing the type of imaginative thinking that enable people to make a change. “Obasan” was critical in the push towards getting the Government of Canada to issue a public apology to those affected in the internment camps put in place in World War II. Protests and rallies are capable of gaining support of those people already willing to move towards change. It is those who are not capable of imagining the change that need works like “Obasan” to assist them reach a new state of enlightened thinking in which they, too, are able to see the need for change. Van Peer describes this as the “dis-encapsulation” of society, in which we are able to move from the former state of mind to the latter by using literature. The need for political redressing is often not an easy task, especially when it entails the reflection such horrific and disturbing accounts. “Obasan’s” most tremendous feat, and arguably the most critical in evoking change, is when it was read by Ed Broadbunt in the House of Commons in 1988. When previous attempts to inform the government failed, literature was capable of conditioning the mind of government and ultimately in progressing political response. This was critical in the recognition of Japanese-Canadians by the government and began a new chapter in the way Canadians reflect on their history. Van Peer’s view can be directly correlated to “Obasan’s” relevance in Canadian politics, as without it Japanese- Canadians may have never been addressed, and Canada may have remained in their encapsulated framework in which their history is never reconciled. Literature was the apparatus deemed capable of altering the mindset of an entire government, and “Obasan”, and Joy Kogawa, shall remain forever synonymous with the idea of reconciliation for those Japanese-Canadians who were so destroyed by a reckless government policy. We have already witnessed the effects of such a change in mindset in the Truth and Reconciliation events that took place this year, and hopefully, other nations can find a way to explore and reconcile their dark past’s in ways similar to what “Obasan” has allowed the Canadian people.