Good afternoon!

Recently in our ASTU class, we’ve been talking about the concept of “Us. VS. Them”, brought up in Judith Butler’s novel, Frames Of War: When Is Life Grievable? In a couple instances throughout her first chapter, Butler brings this concept into question.

Who do you think of when you think of “Us”? It could be your family, your religion, your entire nation. But more importantly, who do you think of when you hear “Them”?

That to me seems more important. You can be a part of many different cultures, and many different groups. You can feel belonging in many aspects of your life. However, when the question of “Them” comes up, who does your mind turn to? Who, do you feel, you can never ever relate to? Who, under no circumstances, will you never belong with?

The answer, of course, is different for everyone, although I feel certain that, to at least some people, “them” refers to criminals; terrorists, murderers, thieves, whichever it may be. Shunned by society, they happen to be the “them” that “us” can never relate with. Even Judith Butler mentions on page 42, “Those who kill are not quite human, and not quite alive…”

I want to be able to agree with her, and to agree with the multitude of people who consider criminals “them”. A part of me does as well, because “Oh my God, how could they kill someone?!?!?”.

However, a part of me also doesn’t. Today in class, we discussed Guantanamo Bay and read poetry from some of the criminals being held there. Their poetry presented them with an alternative perspective in my head, briefly humanized them, and countered Butler’s opinion.

These prisoners, first and foremost, are human beings. Yes, human beings that have done atrocious, inexcusable things, but still human beings. Largely, these criminals; terrorists, murderers, thieves, whichever it may be, are a part of the biggest “Us” there is; the human population.

And isn’t it our job, as other humans, to expect a sort of humane treatment for all other humans as well? Shackles, and torture treatments, and rudimentary uncivilized behaviour does not in any way constitute as humane treatment.

This is not to say that Guantanamo shouldn’t exist, and the prisoners should be freed, and be able to roam the streets as they wish. It’s saying that, despite everything, they are still human, and despite everything, so are we.

After all, in the words of Serena Ryder, together we are one.

(Is that cheesy? I tried to be funny, sorry).

With the recent upsurge of women’s rights, #BlackLivesMatter, and many other anti-discrimination campaigns, the world is often seen at its most progressive. I mean, with Women being able to vote, and the removal of the “N Word” from everyday language, how could the world not be seen as progressive?

However, as much progress as we’ve made in modern society, we are still lightyears away from a perfectly tolerant world.

One of the major problems holding us back from achieving this progressive society is the current embedded Islamaphobia in everyday life.

Islamaphobia is one of the major themes we’ve been discussing in our ASTU class, with our recent reading of the novel Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. The novel deals with the death of a father after he’s killed in the attacks on the Twin Towers on September 11th of 2001.

Islamaphobia is more than hating Muslims, but it’s the fear that every person possesses when a brown person walks on the plane, or in a building. It’s the looks that every man in a turban receives no matter where he is, simply for the fact that he’s wearing a turban. It’s Donald Trump demanding that every Muslim in the world apologize for 9/11, ignorant of the fact that it was the work of an extremist group and not the entire religion.

Islamaphobia is so deeply embedded in society that it often doesn’t feel wrong. When a woman in a burka is almost always stopped for “Randomly Selected Screening” at airports, then it’s the product of Islamaphobia.

Islamaphobia is present in Stephen Harper’s Bill C51. It’s present at every coffee joint, movie theater, shopping mall and amusement park. Islamaphobia was present when my cousin wasn’t allowed to do his job because some old man thought he saw a bomb in his back pocket and very loudly asked my cousin to leave his workplace and “go back to his country”. Islamaphobia was present when that old man refused to believe that my cousin was born in Canada because “Canada has and always will be a white country first and foremost, no matter how many Syrian refugees Justin fucking Trudeau lets in”.

To conclude, the world has come a long way since signs separated “coloured bathrooms” from regular bathrooms, however it’s not as tolerant as people make it seem. As much progress as we’ve made in recent times, there is still a long way to go, and Islamaphobia is only example of many of the harsh discriminations against minorities in the present world.