Collectively, my classes in the Global Citizens CAP stream have given me the tools to be a much more intentional and thoughtful member of an audience. An audience could make me; an active reader of a novel, a watchful audience member at a performance or a movie, an intent listener of podcasts or music, etc.

In ASTU, we learned how to search for what a novel is “quietly suggesting” or to try and decipher what is being “quietly enforced.” By searching for these meanings, we began to understand uncommon sense, and were able to enter a new realm of understanding in terms of texts, movies, and poetry. To allow ourselves to enter critical conversations with literary scholars, we were given the chance to utilize these mental tools and make suggestions and observations about famous texts. I believe this gave us, as students, the ability to understand the power that we have to be critical of work that has been produced by people in major positions of power or prestige. It allowed us to be a part of a conversation most of us did not believe we that we could contribute to.

In Sociology, we were taught how to ask “why,” about literally everything. We were pushed to ask “why” about institutions, laws, social norms, etc. Sociology allowed us to become detectives; searching for answers and solutions to societal problems by looking for patterns. We examined human behavior through a new lens, and saw the world and ourselves through a new lens. Sociology was one of my favorite classes in the CAP stream because the ideas that we discussed in lecture and discussion are so applicable to understanding society, others, and ourselves.

In Geography, we learned to be critical of models of imperialism, migration, and industrialization. Although geography was my least favorite course in the CAP stream, it still offered valuable connections to Politics and Sociology, as we were led to think about human behavior in regard to imperialism, racism, power, and human geography.

In Politics, we were asked to think about the development of political systems over time, and how human behavior and schools of thought influenced these stages of development. Similar to geography, we were asked to be critical of these realms of thought. We were invited to openly discuss where we found flaws in various political systems. We were asked to examine political structures all over the world, which brought in ties to geography and sociology.

The connection between all of these courses is the most valuable part of CAP for me. Instead of taking lectures that were unrelated to one another, CAP allows professors to make meaningful connections between their content and the content being taught in our other courses. We heard similar vocabulary being used in different lectures throughout the day, and were able to find a red thread following us through all of our courses. These meaningful connections showed me how interconnected everything is; how everyone is connected, how every faculty draws from one another, how different disciplines lean on others for ideas and framework, and how you must understanding multiple lenses and perspectives to gain a view of the “big picture.”

I have always loved poetry, and grew up reading and writing it often. My grandmother is an English professor and poet at McDaniel College in Maryland. She wrote multiple poetry collections and books during my childhood, and often wrote about me. On my 18th birthday she presented me with a poem about a moment she shared with my 5 year old self. She had been working on it for 13 years; although it’s a short poem, capturing less than a minute of time, it creates a clear and personal picture of me that I relate to deeply. In this poem she is describing me organizing blueberries for the pie my mother was going to make. She describes my meticulous process, the expression on my face, and my laugh. Seeing this moment memorialized on paper so many years later, was a truly unique experience. Poetry is incredible powerful in that way; the creative, personal, and intricate nature of it makes it unique from other genres. It can take so many forms, and the open-ended nature of this genre allows the writer to craft their poems in a myriad of different tones, forms, structures, and with whatever language they feel most expressive with.

Something that I discovered about poetry from this class, that differs to how I previously interacted with this genre, is the way that Juliana Spahr uses her poetry to “think of culture as large and connective…and [move] poetry away from individualism to shared, connective spaces.” I love this quote from Spahr, because it allows us to take poetry seriously; in the sense that it can be just as political and influential as a novel or an article. In writing about tragedy in a structured, yet very personal, manner, Spahr gives us a new way to observe, cope, and understand how we are all touched by tragedy or evil. I believe that poetry has an important place in the conversation that we’ve been having about culture, politics, and what it means to be a global citizen. There is no genre that allows for more personal emotion, freedom, and creativity that poetry. It should not be compared to graphic narratives or novels, as it should exist in a category of its own.

As a part of this blog post, I’d like to include a poem that I wrote 3 years ago to exemplify what I mean when I speak about poetry being its own, incredibly unique genre. This poem is something I wrote from the perspective of someone else, although my ability to empathize allowed me to feel what the person was feeling, and channel that into writing. Poetry is incredible special to me, as someone who needs to write things or type things out in order to make sense of life and its general chaos. I hope you enjoy it!

No Luck for Love

The first.

Messy braid, pretty collarbones.

She came quickly, an unanticipated surprise.

She dove deep into my reasoning,

Unearthing my judgement.

The scent of vanilla followed her everywhere, as did I.

The crest of her love was sparkling, illuminated by the summer sun.

I was hooked.

But her attention was carried elsewhere, as autumn approached.

I was slammed into the shore, dragged mercilessly by the ebb and flow.

What did I do wrong?

The second.

Endless legs, magnetic eyes.

This time, I would get it right.

A dancer. My harvest love.

Graceful found a new meaning.

She blushed at my compliments,

and held my hand with innocence.

Placid, green eyes, the calm before the storm.

But my efforts to praise her were futile,

passionate attempts at showing affection, swept away by a simple November breeze.

Her playful tricks beat against my heart like fierce rain on a tin roof.

She pushes me away carelessly,

helplessness consumes me.

The third.

Heart shaped lips, voice like silk.

Her skin was smooth, seemingly untouchable.

Temptation gripped me, but no.

It would be different this time.

Establishing dominance would relieve my heart of insensitive tremors.

Dropping tricky hints like an unpredictable forecast,

I pulled her along masterfully.

But she was gentle, and undeserving.

Unaware, of her impending fall.

A flash of lightning broke her,

she was tossed aside by deadly currents,

pulsating from my suffering of the past.

Her delicate walls collapsed.

Her body submerged in phony charm, my weapon of choice.

What did I do wrong?

On my first visit to the museum as a Jumpstart participant during my first week on the University of British Columbia campus, I was overwhelmed. We weren’t allowed much time to browse, and were rushed through the various rooms and exhibits, only getting a glimpse of the cultural variation that lives within the walls. I was particularly fascinated with a room in the back that projected figures, shapes, and colors on the walls. If you walked up to the walls and touched it, the light would follow you, dancing towards you and surrounding your shadow in the dimly lit room. I was also captivated by the wooden carving of a bird, resting proudly in a room by itself, under a dome of natural light.

The Museum of Anthropology as a whole maintains calm vibe. It comes from the soft floor, that mutes all footsteps passing through the winding hallways and the fact that all of the artifacts maintain their spiritual properties, and are made with natural materials that soften any noise. The tall wooden totem poles that flank the entrance put visitors into a humble trance. There is a hush that overcomes the rooms, as people whisper even though they are not specifically directed to. There is an unspoken reverence that becomes every visitor that steps into these rooms and halls. You feel as though you are being watched by the spirits of those who created the incredible relics that exist behind the thin, protective glass.

The Amazonia exhibit at the Museum of Anthropology, curated by Nuno Porto, invites us to examine the lives of the Amazonian people and think critically about our relationship with them and other indigenous cultures. Walking through the exhibit you could feel the presence of the jungle in the items collected and arranged in this exhibit. The Brazilian headdress presented in the exhibit immediately made me think of the jungle. The large feathers were proudly and tightly bound. The colors were deep and dark; purples, greys, and reds were mixed together to create a beautiful and almost haunting piece. My favorite pieces were the gourds from the lower Amazon. These gourds, little bowls, have been a part of indigenous culture since the 17th century. My favorite part of these gourds is how intricate and delicate the process of creating them is. I found that as recurring theme throughout the exhibit. All of these items and pieces of Amazonian culture are all created and designed with intense care and purpose. This led me to compare the means of production in the United States and how everything is so manufactured and instant. Production in developed countries today is guided by efficiency and cheap labor. This is a stark contrast to the way that things are built and produced in indigenous cultures. I was mostly observing this exhibit from a sociological lens. Comparing cultures and civilizations through this lens was most helpful in my reflections. I was also able to draw comparisons to my time living in Tanzania and living in the wilderness in Arizona. When the material and “front country” world disappears, your mind focuses on different things. Nature seems to have more meaning, and one connects with it more. This is evident in the creations of the Amazonian people and other Indigenous people’s tools and artwork. I find comfort in knowing that there are people in the world that still live such simple lives and are still so connected to nature and the world that surrounds them. 

During our visit to the rare books collection section of the library, I was reminded of rifling through my Grandfather’s old World War 2 memorabilia. Old postcards from his travels, letters he wrote back to his wife and children, and flyers and war propaganda. I always felt like I was time traveling when I was leafing through old papers. They have a certain smell to them, as if they’ve kept history within them via scent, and the scent carries old memories too. Looking through old documents, letters, and historical texts is especially interesting in this time period because we are closing the gap between handwritten historical accounts, and everything transferring over to digital copies. With the expansion of technology, the way that we create and record memories if often on digital platforms now. Written letters, printed document articles, and other personal, handwritten artifacts are becoming more rare. While thumbing through the pieces of historical texts and pieces of literature, you could feel the age within the papers. You could feel the thinning pages and see the stains, and wear and tear that comes with age. Often times there is a different and unfamiliar format to the writing, that is outdated or not used anymore. Physically being able to touch these old papers makes you feel very connected to the history that is written on them. It feels as though you have a deeper understanding of the material and the author.

With the rise of technology, we are getting less of these physical memories. Authors are more likely to type their work and email their drafts to editors than send them by mail. There is less physical evidence and history surrounding the writing of a book or the recording of an event. It was interesting to be able to get that close with Joy Kogowa’s writing process, especially since it felt so personal and was mostly in her own handwriting.  You typically don’t get to have that close of a look at a writer’s process, especially in their own handwriting with papers that were once at their own home. These artifacts helped change my understanding of the book’s place in Canadian history mostly with the historical documents that we got to examine during this visit. Looking at the political leaders responses to her notes was really insightful, and showed how poorly the Canadian government dealt with this situation. It showed a great lack of empathy within the government, and was shocking to think about the levels in which these decisions, about the Canadian Japanese population, had to go through to get passed and deemed proper. So many people had to conclude that it made sense to treat Japanese Canadians so poorly and with such disrespect. It indicates a huge lack of empathy among the government and majority, and reminds me of what happened in Nazi Germany, and with Japanese Americans as well.

The idea of “freedom” has been challenged, argued, and contested for the entire duration of history. The word itself, and what the ideology entails, holds a different definition to everyone. It means different things across languages, cultural barriers, and political beliefs. But never before has the idea of freedom been challenged the way it is currently, in modern history, in 2017, and specifically in the last 6 months alone. From the avidly contested right to bear arms as a freedom in the United States to the law recently overturned in Saudi Arabia that had previously barred women from driving, freedoms are regulated and upheld differently in every country and every community. An issue of freedom or lack thereof, depending on what you believe, that I’d like to discuss in this blog post, is the hot issue of hijabs.

For many women, the hijab is an expression of their faith, a nod to modesty, and a way to feel freedom in the heart and mind instead of on the body. But to many people, and to most of the Western world, it is seen as a lack of freedom, a behavior of the oppressed. But to Muslim women, the same can be believed from their perspective of the way that Western women behave and display themselves. This is greatly illustrated by a cartoon that I was presented with in my World Religions class during my senior year of high school. This is the cartoon:

I love the way that this cartoon illustrates this significant cultural difference. To the western woman, freedom is being able to wear as little as she pleases, knowing that her freedom as a member of society in the western world allows her to be as exposed as she pleases without being told she is meant to cover up. This ideology is ingrained in western society, the term “sex sells” really embodies that idea, as many movies, tv shows, magazines, and especially advertisements, use women’s bodies and sex icons to sell products or materials. In the eyes of a Muslim woman, this is shocking and shameful. Many Muslim women feel as though they are expressing their sexuality and channeling it in a correct and positive way, by not letting the world see their bodies, and only lending their minds and eyes to the community. In the article that my group was assigned in class, I read about a woman whose family actually discouraged her from wearing the veil, and asked her why she’d want to close herself off and consciously suppress herself. Her response was that she believed it was how she could best wear her heart on her sleeve. She felt like it was the most healthy and natural way for her to express her sexuality and protect it at the same time.

I am someone who always fights for freedom, particularly the freedom of women. I attended a private, Catholic high school where our dress code directly oppressed women and made it feel like it was trashy to show our collarbones or wear things with sheer material. In a world where women are blamed for the way they present themselves, yet boys aren’t educated on how to properly behave in regards to treating women, this angered me to no end. I was constantly in the Dean’s office, fighting every dress code violation I received and that others were subjected to. They finally gave up trying to punish me, and just let me wear whatever I wanted to. But they still got other girls in trouble for the smallest infractions daily. Naturally, one would think that I would be angered by the hijab and in support of it being banned in France, Austria, and Australia, places in which there is debate on whether women should be allowed to wear hijabs in public. I think this is absolutely ridiculous; to think that a government should be able to regulate how women dress, or present themselves. It’s like telling people they can’t display a cross on their bumper stickers or wear it on necklaces or other clothing. People, and women specifically, should be allowed to present themselves in whatever way they feel comfortable.

The idea of freedom will never be universal, and as the leader of the “free” world continues to strip media and advocates of their freedom of speech; our freedoms are slipping further and further away, as we watch democracy slip away, and tyrannical behavior shift into place. If it’s difficult to be a Muslim women in America now, imagine what it will be like in 5 years if the American government and attitude of American people remains the same….

Works Cited:

“Bikini vs. Burqa.” A Window Without Walls, 10 Oct. 2011, qahiri.wordpress.com/2011/10/10/bikini-vs-burqa/.

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