I remember quite clearly when American Sniper came out and scrolling through Twitter seeing all the backlashed it faced. I had never bothered to watch the movie, but from the tweets and articles that articulated everything that was wrong with the movie, I also agreed and thought of the movie with disgust. I had never even seen the movie, or really understood exactly why I was disgusted and angry with it. Should some tweets I saw be able to form my opinions on a topic I was hardly educated on? At 14, I did not know much on the Iraq war and the details behind it; but something about this movie struck a chord within me.

Finally I had a valid reason to watch it because of ASTU–and while watching it I was disgusted all over again. Majority of the time I felt like I was watching a movie making fun of American’s and their intense patriotism; however, I remembered our discussion in class about how many American’s loved the movie, and Joe Biden even had tears after watching it, quickly bringing me back to reality–this was not a mockery or satire on American war culture and the War on Terror, but a biographical drama. However, I was finally able to justify my feelings, and substantiate my opinions (in comparison to my 14 year-old-self) as the many texts and concepts learned in ASTU and my other courses helped me to unpack American Sniper more thoroughly. There are many concepts in ASTU that I learned this year that helped me such as master narratives, the representation of Iraqi’s as ‘the other’, and especially Butler’s theories of vulnerability and grievability. Judith Butler discusses the idea of the precariousness and precarity of lives: this idea that because bodies exist in societies, they are therefore vulnerable to others around them. She explains how this is controlled by an “interpretative framework” or “frames of recognizability”. It is in these interpretations that humans view certain lives as grievable, the ones that our lives depends on and the ones that are recognizable to us. While others are ungrievable, the ones that pose a threat to our lives and therefore “they do not appear as ‘lives’” (Butler, 42), those who’s deaths we respond to with coldness. In American Sniper for example, we see many instances of this in the representations of Iraqi lives killed compared to American lives. What caught my attention was the portrayal of the grievability and precarity of the childrens’ lives. I found that the movie even dehumanized the Iraqi kids, and at times showed them to be violent and involved in the war picking up weapons and being part of plans, even being targets by the American military. In comparison, the Chris Kyle’s kids were shown in a much more positive light, there was even a scene in which his son is holding a gun while hunting — why is this ok, but if an Iraqi kid were to do the same they would likely be seen as a terrorist? Kids are kids everywhere, and it is interesting to apply a theoretical framework like Butler’s to understand this idea.

The concept of narratives and master-narratives that we explored this year also helped me in further analyzing the movie. In ASTU we explored this idea by using Sarah Polley’s film, “Stories We Tell”, in which the concept of multiple narratives is discussed. In the film, Polley documents her journey to find out who her biological father is through a construction of interviews with her friends and family. From these interviews we see how each individual has a different story than the rest, leaving us to question what the ‘real’ truth is and how this can be achieved through multiple narratives. It was interesting paying attention to the master-narrative portrayed in the movie which allowed me to think critically about what I was seeing and what was not being shown. For example, in the justification of the war and killing of Iraqis, the Americans were always saying it was to protect–whether it be their fellow troops, Iraqi civilians or Americans back home, they were making sure to let the audience know the justifications for the war and deaths of Iraqis. It was almost if they were conveying the message that this war had to be done, a narrative many Americans take. Further in the way we see Kyle experience the war himself, his struggles with adjusting after returning home and the impacts the war had on him and other veterans–but where were the representations of how the war affected Iraqi’s? Although this was not what the movie was trying to portray, I am now equipped with the tools and theories that allow me to question and critique movies like this with substance rather than opinions based on feelings.

Being able to do this, and thinking back to when I did not know about these concepts and theories, allows me to see how important it is to learn these things. Additionally, how important it is to read challenging texts to allow me to be able to think critically: not only on the texts and concepts presented to me in my classes, but being able to critically think about everything around me, especially those in popular media and culture.

I have always found it interesting how some news events become reported almost instantaneously, and are kept on CNN for days; where as others are not found on popular news channels or sites, and I only stumble upon them while scrolling through my Twitter feed. How do some tragedies turn into a hashtag, while others garner only one post out of thousands? Take for example the terrorists attacks in Paris in 2015, instantly there were thousands of #JeSuisParis hashtags all across social media. It was even the most talked-about moment of the year on Twitter (https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/technology-science/technology/jesuisparis-thedress-twitter-reveals-most-6955021). In the following days, Facebook even created a profile picture filter with the French flag, so people could show solidarity with the victims and Parisians. But where were the hashtags and Facebook filters for the terrorists attacks in 2017 for Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan or Egypt? All of which suffered horrible attacks, killing hundreds of innocent citizens with the one in Egypt even being it’s deadliest terror attack to date. People will talk about the terror attacks in Paris and London for weeks, even people who do not regularly pay attention to the news will hear about it and talk about it. It will be all over social media for days, with people posting pictures and stories of these places in solidarity. I have always wondered why all terror attacks are not treated on the same playing field in regard to media, and the attention it garners, and reading Judith Butler allowed me to understand why this is the case. I want to make it very clear that I am not saying that the recognition and attention that terror attacks in the ‘West’ is unnecessary or bad. What I am saying is that terror attacks in ‘non-Western’ countries like in the Middle East should receive the same attention and news coverage, and the same reaction from the masses of prayers and solidarity for the victims and people of that city and country.

In the first chapter of her book, “Frames of War: When is Life Grievable”, Judith Butler discusses and introduces the idea of the precariousness and precarity of lives. This is the idea that because bodies exist in societies, they are therefore vulnerable to others around them. Because of this vulnerability, all human lives are precarious, however some lives are more precarious than others. She explains how this is controlled by an “interpretative framework” or “frames of recognizability”, which is the perspective in which we view others: how alike or different are they from us. It is in these interpretations that humans view certain lives as grievable, the ones that our lives depends on and the ones that are recognizable to us. While others are ungrievable, the ones that pose a threat to our lives and therefore “they do not appear as ‘lives'” (Butler, 42), those who’s deaths we respond to with coldness. Perhaps this is why it is so easy to feel for those who suffer from acts of war and terror in countries similar to ours, in my case Western countries. It is much easier to feel a connection with those with similar cultural values, and especially when that connection is on a national level. It is much harder to feel connected to those in countries half-way around the world, in which we have never visited or know no one there–connections on a global level.

Butler’s discourse has helped to answer my questions. This idea of precariousness is likely why tragic events that happen in non-Western countries do not receive the same attention and response to those that do. This is likely why the 311 innocent lives that died in the terror attacks in Egypt did not receive the same media attention and mourning as those in Paris did (https://www.nytimes.com/2017/12/01/world/middleeast/egypt-sinai-mosque-attack.html). Because we are all vulnerable in society, we all have a responsibility to those around us, even to those who are not seen as grievable at first. We need to broaden our “frames of recognizability” to allow us to try and see all lives as grievable, and not just those that are similar to our own. Once we work on this, perhaps all tragedies will receive the attention and mourning they deserve.

References

Butler, Judith. Frames of War: When Is Life Grievable?London: Verso, 2010. Print.

When I walked in to the Museum of Anthropology I was instantly reminded of my time spent there as a child during weekend outings with my parents and multiple school field trips. I was always fascinated by the museum and all the captivating objects in it, as it allowed me to see the realities of what I was learning in school and get a deeper understanding of the Aboriginal peoples history and struggles. There was a lot regarding the history and trauma of the Aboriginal people that I was ignorant to, but I very much remember how visiting the museum when I was younger allowed me to learn so much that I was not told in school. This time when I visited, the very same thing happened. Prior to my visit, I was completely ignorant and did not know much at all, (if anything), about the people and region of Amazonia. However, the objects and the many text panels and images put together to create this exhibit introduced me to a whole new world that I was unaware of.

As I walked into the exhibit, I was immediately captivated by the beautiful and unique displays and artefacts, and felt at ease while listening to the chants playing throughout. One object that stood out to me in particular was a a very powerful image from a book. It depicts a Kayapo leader touching the face of a representative from an electric company with the blade of her machete (image uploaded below). The Kayapo are a group from Brazil that were brutally attacked, slaughtered, enslaved and removed from their land by colonization. In 1989, Kayapo communities came together to fight for their political rights and rights for their traditional land against the construction of the Belo Monte dam. I found this object interesting for many reasons; first it profoundly represents the divide between the Indigenous people of Brazil (and Amazonia as a whole) and the colonists. Much of the exhibit was focused around the conservation and protecting the forests and nature of Amazonia, and the different ways that the Indigenous people value nature compared to the colonizers. I found that this object embodied exactly this–it shows a man that works for an electric company in Western clothing in contrast to the Kayapo woman wearing her native clothing and jewelry. This is just one example of how the European colonists influence on modern populations of South America, and Western culture continues to completely ignore the wishes and beliefs of the Indigenous people regarding their own land. Not only did they force them away from their traditional land a hundred years prior, but now they are constructing a dam in the middle of their new land. This object also reminded me of Canada’s Indigenous people, and how they are also still continually being ignored and mistreated.

This exhibit highlights the Indigenous beliefs that humans are a part of nature, and are not superior to it; therefore conveying the message of preserving nature instead of exploiting it for human desires and monetary gain. It also emphasized the vast knowledge that the Indigenous people have about their land and nature and how connected they are to it. Through our recent lectures and discussions in Geography class, I was able to attain a deeper understanding of this, and recognize the stark contrast between the colonists and Indigenous peoples in regard to ownership rights of land; the colonists unjustly thought that the Indigenous people were not using their land to its full potential, therefore giving them the entitled belief that they should own it as they would use it in a more efficient manner. I believe that the Amazonia exhibit did a beautiful and powerful job of conveying this message across, and allowed us to see and acknowledge the suffering and wrongdoings by the European colonists, and in modern day by Western cultures and beliefs to the Indigenous peoples of Amazonia. Although this exhibit focused on the Indigenous peoples of Amazonia and the Amazon region itself, it allows us all to think about other Indigenous groups around the world, and how their land, beliefs, and rights are continuously being stolen from them in an ever Westernizing and modernizing world. Many of us often forget that Indigenous peoples have been living and thriving off these lands for hundreds of years before Europeans came to colonize them, and they have so much knowledge and wisdom about the environment around them. The Amazon has some of the richest biodiversity in the entire world, and seeing it being exploited for its abundant resources to the point of depletion is truly devastating–not only for the wildlife in that region, but for the Indigenous peoples that have lived in this area for centuries. We all need to realize how our actions and consumer habits contribute to this exploitation, and our own personal responsibility to try to prevent this from happening, not only in the Amazon region but in our own country, Canada, and the rest of the world as well.

Growing up in Canada, I was shielded from many things.  My childhood was plain and simple; I went to school, played with friends, watched TV and movies, and went out with my parents. My biggest worries were things like: ‘Who am I going to have a playdate with today?’ and ‘Do I have enough Barbies?’.

The first time I visited Morocco to see my dad’s family, I was 9 years-old. The moment I stepped off the plane I noticed things were different. The air was smoky, the airport was old, and people dressed quite differently. In the car ride to my grandma’s house I noticed even more differences like  fields of garbage and old rural buildings; it was nothing like Canada. I remember being so excited to finally meet my family, especially since I had so many cousins my age. Even though we didn’t speak the same language, we bonded instantly. They toured me around the neighbourhood introducing me to their friends and showed me all the small corner stores where they bought candy. We had so much fun together and did the exact same things my friends and I did back home; it didn’t matter that there was a language barrier because we kids had our own.

As the month went on, I noticed even more differences. Although many of my cousins were my age, I realized that their lives were much different than mine. The boys played outside most of the day with worn out soccer balls, while the girls did chores, sometimes playing with their knock off toys and dolls if they had time. They would all take turns playing and admiring my mom’s iPhone or my Nintendo DS. That’s when I understood why we brought an extra suitcase full of toys and clothes from home. Sometimes they were even sent to do the grocery shopping–my parents wouldn’t even let me walk to school alone. Even though I was young, I recognized the differences; I realized how lucky I had it growing up in Canada. I remember thinking how unfair it was, how we were all so alike yet their lives were so different just because they were raised in another country. And although my cousins weren’t growing up in the middle of a war like Marji in ‘Persepolis’, they still had it a lot more difficult than most of us did.

Growing up in the middle of the Iran-Iraq War, Marji faced many struggles as a child that most of us, including myself, will never face in our lives. Instead of just worrying about school and friends, Marji also had to worry about bombs or missiles hitting her house. She had to illegally buy music and even made her parents smuggle posters from Turkey, simple things most of us enjoy without even thinking about them. She is made aware of many horrors at a very young age, and this wasn’t just her experience, but the experience of all Iranian kids at this time. Growing up in a period of war as a child extremely affects the childhood experience. One doesn’t have time to be a kid when you are fearing for your life. Unfortunately, this experience isn’t unique to Marji, but applies to many kids even to this day in war-torn countries.

The Syrian Civil War has been going on for almost 7 years. As a result many children have lost their homes and some even family members. This is an issue many children in different countries are facing right now. It is completely unfair to deprive a child of their childhood due to a political matter. For some reason, when we think about war we somehow forget about the children. Our minds jump to political leaders, weapons and armies, but we fail to remember the children involved. No child should have to worry about whether a bomb is going to hit their house or not. This is why it is important to recognize the privilege many of us have growing up in first-world countries, and living lives some can only dream of. We should all use our privilege to fight for the rights of children in the world that do not have the same opportunities that we do and for the children growing up in the middle of a war zone.

I was born in a very unique year right at the turn of the century–1999. When I grew up, I was young enough to be raised playing outside, but still had the privilege of having technology surrounding me wherever I went. As I grew up, technology advanced. My uncle was always the tech-savvy one in my family, buying the newest computers and cameras as soon as they came out. Right when he introduced me to his new digital camera, I was hooked. You could flip the screen out so you could point the camera at yourself while seeing your face at the same time. My cousins and I loved to play with this feature; and thus my very first selfies were taken. Back then, they weren’t meant to be things of vanity or narcism, it was just capturing yourselves in the moment, especially helpful if you didn’t have someone there to take your photo. However, selfies have long since evolved. With the introduction of the front facing camera’s on phones, selfies have been easier to take than ever. I’ll admit, I’ve taken quite a few selfies myself. I’ve even posted those selfies to social media sites like Facebook and Instagram. These selfies weren’t the same as the ones I took when I was 6. Now instead of just trying to capture the moment, I try to capture the best angle and lighting, unconsciously thinking of what will get the most likes. Like most teens and young adults, I understand selfie culture. At least I thought I did.

The first time I ever encountered a “dark” selfie was at my friend’s mom’s funeral. It was a very somber and serious occasion, as most funerals are. I grew up in a very small town, and everyone knew my friend and her late mother so most of my school was there too. I had been to quite a few funerals in my life, so I knew and understood most of the customs and traditions and how to act–respectful and mourning full. Everyone knows not to take their phones out during a funeral, it’s just one of those rules. That’s why I was shocked to see some fellow peers with their cellphones in their hands, but what was even more shocking was what they were doing. They were taking selfies on Snapchat. I wasn’t sure if maybe these kids had not been to a funeral before, or if they were just being rude, but they weren’t alone, many people had their phones out scrolling through Instagram and Facebook. Some of them were even in groups posing for pictures together. When I got home that night, I found numerous photos from the funeral of my classmates posing together with captions like “RIP”. Surely, if they wanted to remember the departed, they would post a nice picture of that person? Or even a picture of them with that person, and not just a picture of themselves. How could a picture of oneself be used to respect and remember someone who has passed? To me, these pictures oozed pure narcism and disrespect, everything opposite of it’s supposed intention.These pictures were the first things that popped in my mind while reading Kate Douglas’ article, “Youth, trauma and memorialisation: The selfie as witnessing”, Douglas points out that “…times, cultures and [people] are changing, and one of the primary drivers of this change is the rise of mobile technologies and mobile witnessing” (Douglas, pg 6).

Perhaps I was all wrong about the ‘disrespectful’ selfies and pictures at funerals. Since discussing Douglas’ article in ASTU I was able to open my mind to a new perspective. Her article challenged my views and allowed me to see things in a positive light. Funerals are very somber, uncomfortable situations for most people. Many people just don’t know how to act and what to do when put in that situation. It can be especially uncomfortable and unfamiliar for teenagers, who are unsure of how to express their emotions and cope with loss in the first place and “selfies [can be] a way to own a particular response to trauma” (Douglas, pg 12). My generation was brought up using technology; it is something we are all comfortable with and provides a familiar medium for us to express our emotions and feeling though, and the funeral photo/selfie is just another way for teens to express their emotions. Posting that photo with a commemorative caption is just the newest way for teens to show their sorrow and grief; it is not a sign of disrespect. And adults just might not get this (I’m a teen myself and didn’t get it).

We all know how fast technology is advancing–there seems to be a new IPhone out everyday! However, none of us really seem to take note of the social implications and standards that come with that new technology. There are many unwritten rules and social norms within our society, and new technology challenges them and even changes some–but most people don’t notice. A lot of the criticism on ‘selfie culture’ seems to come from older generations. This makes sense due to the fact that these generations didn’t grow up with the same technology we did. However, it’s important that not only older generations, but everyone pays attention to the role technology has on our lives. Not just how it makes life easier, or what effects it has on us individually, but also it’s effects on our culture and society and even how it changes our everyday interactions to sacred occasions. We need more research papers such as Douglas’ to bring light to the fact of this issue. Societal norms and standards are always changing, but even more so now living in a technological world. It is up to all of us to realize this and challenge what we know, so we can understand younger generations and realize just how much technology is changing the world we live in.

Works Cited:

Douglas, Kate. Youth, Trauma and Memorialization: The Selfie as Witnessing. Memory Studies. Sage Publishing. 2017

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