Nicolo at UBC (ASTU)

Dearest readers,

With April in our midst and the emergence of spring on our incredible campus, so dawns the first chapter of my journey here at the University of British Columbia. Looking back, I could not be more grateful to all of the friends I have made, faculty who have challenged us, and staff who played a pivotal role in making my first year experience so memorable. Let’s be clear, it was not a walk in the park: a lot of soul searching, regrets, long nights, doubts, planning for the future, and the whole nine yards. Engaging in the scholarly discourse of academia has been so eye-opening and I can only agree with Albert Einstein’s sentiment in saying, “The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know”. Being surrounded with brilliant minds and passionate global citizens on a daily basis has changed the way in which I see the world; iron truly sharpens iron. Nonetheless, here we are. We made it.

In exploring terms such as “technologies of memory” (Shahzad, 2011; Sturken, 1997), “interpretive communities” (Shahzad, 2011), “trauma transfer” (Butler, 2011), and “us vs. them” (Bush, 2011) to name a few, we have studied literary texts and scholarly articles from all over the world – hence global citizenship! This blog will look to incorporate many of the themes we have come across this year through the unique lens of racial profiling and mass incarceration in the United States; which also happens to be the topic of my sociology research paper. At its highest climax, the controversy and debate circulating around the practice of racial profiling in law enforcement has become a definitive issue in contemporary world politics.

As it pertains to interpretive communities – “the processes of remembering and learning appear to be distributed among the participants as active agents, technologies of memory and a collectivity of significant ‘others’” (Shahzad, 2011) – the ways in which we understand and formulate our stances on the current social phenomena of profiling and incarceration. Whether the community you engage in is directly linked with the Black Lives Matter movement or you are watching these events unfold from Paris, how much media and types of people you are exposed to with determine your various sets of perspectives. Further, technologies of memory – “media, textbooks, documents, the Internet, museums, monuments, or landscapes” (2011) – play a vital role in shaping the biases we hold and informing us of the events that have gone before us.

Another term we have explored in ASTU 100 is this notion of trauma transfer we have learned from Judith Butler (2011) through the lens of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and The Connection of Everyone with Lungs. Looking at narrative framing and the dangers of trauma transfer in our contemporary world is hazardously evident in discourse of #AllLivesMatter. The dangers of engaging in this dialogue play into agency, “slacktivism”, political correctness, and context. Many people do not realize that by saying “all lives matter”, they are engaging in a very long emotional situation that is personal to African-Americans, without any respect or empathy. In an attempt to transfer other peoples’ trauma into our individual agency, we may be harming those around us without even knowing it. Moreover, the rhetoric of us vs. them can be increasingly prominent in decontextualizing ourselves from the past and others.

In a world that is divided by religion, race, and politics, it can be so easy to look at our differences and segregate ourselves from the “others”. The way in which we see our lives as precarious and reliant on each other (Butler, 2009), it quite difficult to look at our world and be proud of what we have all participated in. Where cries of unity, inclusiveness, and solidarity are rising in opposition to fear and hate, there is somewhat of a vulnerability and trust that must acknowledged by us all. Whether this be in terms of racial profiling, mass incarceration, or even turning our attention to the recent attacks on Brussels, life is precious.

As global citizens and in lieu of these events, we all hold the keys to precipitate in change, but must acknowledge the vast contexts that pertain to each phenomena which we engage in.

Sincerely yours,

Nico Jimenez

Hello readers!

What a week this has been! With assignments, essays, and readings coming from left right and center, I have had to buckle-up and face each daunting task head on. However, it was not all doom and gloom. I had the amazing opportunity of participating in UBC’s inaugural Model Parliament over the weekend! Similar to the format of a Model United Nations, it was a chance to learn more about, in this case, the parliamentary system, put my knowledge to the test, and engage in dialogue with passionate and like-minded individuals around UBC. It was a great learning experience and an opportunity to garner connections with people beyond my years. I definitely recommend that you explore this event next year, I will definitely be back!

Now onto the bread and butter. Recently, my ASTU 100 class at the University of British Columbia began to unravel a short excerpt from Phil Klay’s book entitled Redeployment. As we discussed the various symbols and themes that are manifested in our reading, I was caught by the authenticity and realness that came from our protagonist, Sgt. Price. Having read a few articles and documentaries regarding the challenges veterans face coming home, it is no wonder why this is such a pressing issue, especially in the United States – pertaining to the Department of Veteran Affairs (VA), unemployment, suicide, PTSD, and the struggles readjusting back “home”.

The obstacles of engaging in a particular dialogue with a veteran or various gestures of “Thank you for your service” or “Tell me about the war” speaks to what we have learned in our Sociology 100 class. Not too long ago, we had a series of lectures regarding the history of Indigenous people in Canada and how we go about teaching students on these sensitive issues. A coined term that came out of these lectures was “Tokenism”, where we point and turn to a specific person in the room who resembles our topic of choice, using them as someone who is well versed on all of the issues, history, culture, and can speak on behalf of all peoples. By definition, we hold what hey say as the penultimate point of view. Further, the same can be done to veterans. With our best intentions to know more, we can dangerously put that individual on the spot and open up a life dislocated from stay-at-home lens. As we saw first hand from the life of Sgt. Price’s life as he was “redeployed” back home, his new norm and change in scenery was something in which he daily struggled living in.

Further speaking to The Hurt Locker, we have recently read The Hurt Locker by Brian Turner. War is not pretty. At all. It is not as easy as “history is written by the victors”. For some veterans, Turner’s words speak so crystal clear. “Nothing but hurt left here. Nothing but bullets of pain…Believe it or not when…Open the hurt locker”. In terms of the dynamic of dogs and reconciliation in Redeployment, I interpreted this paradigm parallel to Lady Macbeth, who tried her best to wash her hands and clear her conscious after her completed plots of killing. Washing her hands and putting out the stains that marred her life going forward. Similarly, Sgt. Price’s conscious was marred by the insurgent “dog” floating in waste. By way of reconciliation, I saw Vicar as a window to clear his conscious and lift a heavy burden from his shoulders. Moreover, I interpreted this moment as his breakthrough in which he would make a fine line to consider home with Cheryl or with his brotherhood. “I hated the past seven months and the only thing that kept me going was the Marines I served with and the thought of coming home, I started feeling like I wanted to go back. Because f*** all this” (Kley 11). Further, I am curious as to how you interpreted these narratives in Sgt. Price’s life? Did you associate Vicar and “dogs” with guilt, reconciliation, shame, or a positive act moving forward?

Cheers,

Nico