I grew up reading Jack London. When I read White Fang — I was about 8 or 9 at the time — I didn’t understand the totality of how it would later influence me. Sure, it’s pretty awesome as a kid to read a story from the perspective of a wolf that gives you animal insight like you’ve never before imagined. You see the parallels of nature and nurture reflected in your own life alongside real-life social interactions like dominance and bullying. You don’t analyze it though. Why would you, you’re 8 years old. You just think, “Damn, wolves are cool.”

Of course, what I didn’t realize was that White Fang would shape me in the years to come. I learned that the Canadian North is hard and cold and beautiful and a great many other things that are difficult to understand. I learned that people can be both cruel and forgiving, regardless of their skin colour. And, later, I learned the subtext that an English Literature degree enables you to reveal is pretty damn priceless when looking back on your childhood.

Back in the day, way back, the New York Times reviewed White Fang. Alongside the general comments I’ve already made about how badass wolves are, the reviewer includes thoughts on White Fang’s journey into domesticity that loosely parallel the struggles of many Native American’s during the same time.

Sadly, he speaks about White Fang’s struggles the same way my grandpa speaks about Native children he went to school with, recalling the “savage instincts” and how they had to be tamed.

Whoa. That’s pretty bad, right?

But it’s how my grandpa was raised. It’s not right, but it’s not his fault either. Just as we’re products of our tolerant, understanding society, he too was a product of his often intolerant, ignorant society. It took a long time for that to be realized. The capacity for understanding the struggles of others wasn’t unavailable in the early 1900’s, it was just misplaced.

The review of White Fang is packaged eloquently and parallels this sentiment eloquently:

As long as White Fang met nothing but brutality from his masters his own savage instincts increased by leaps and bounds and he became a monster of vicious hatred. When he did encounter kindness he was a long time learning to trust it.

Okay, it might not be direct in its parallel metaphor but it hits some points that can’t not be relevant to this course. It’s about understanding. It’s about the ability to forgive, accept, and move forward. It’s about the simple, undeniable truth that we all have back fur that goes up when we’re challenged but — and this is the point — it’s about the fact that a man can see good in evil and even a wolf can obtain the understanding necessary to change. We may still be at the “long time learning to trust it” point, but it’s good that we’re there.

I don’t expect all of you to agree with the connections I’ve made here — and you shouldn’t, there are definitely some holes — but thank Kahn and Cerf (aka the internet gods), this online world is place where you get to shoot down my terrible ideas (or build me up, depending on your view).

To be honest, it’s going to be really nice to have a place where we can talk in our true first language — since online interactions shaped how most of us interact socially (I’m looking at you MSN and Nexopia). So bring on the analytical, intellectual discourse! Disagree with absolutely everything I say, and do it with that big ol’ UBC brain of yours because, my god, that thing is already better than the people who feel it’s necessary to post unsupported, opinionated responses to any post of slightly controversial material on my news feed. Really, I’m looking forward to it.

Bonus! Tell me your thoughts on this piece of Stó:lō art in regards to the issues of dominance and understanding discussed in this article.

For entrance into the Kool Kids Klub (no affiliation with what you’re thinking of) simply comment, “Damn, wolves are cool.”

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