Tuesday, April 22, 2008

"Just"

When I visited Swaziland, I met at length with the king in private, and attempted to persuade him, with a combination of subtlety and argument, that the world was increasingly impatient, his people were decimated, and his behaviour was unacceptable. Then we held a press conference together and I held my tongue. 
I have felt guilty about that to this day. Whom did it serve by the bloated ego of the monarch? So I’ve rationalized my actions: I’ve persuaded myself that it’s not for me to do, that it should be done by UN officials with far greater authority. I’m merely a part-time envoy.
But I know my excuses for remaining silent in the face of such behaviour don’t wash.  -p. 184-185, Race Against Time

Stephen Lewis - possibly the best known and longest-standing advocate for HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment - said "I'm merely a part-time envoy." It was an excuse, a rationalization. A way to make the pain of complicity, of doing 'nothing' (and I don't use that word lightly) when words could have been spoken go away. Make the questions of "what if?" and the statements of "if only.." stop coming. Yet the choice not to speak out and stand up left him feeling guilty - guilt he still feels. 

What it comes down to is that we are all "merely" someone. I'm 'just' a twenty year old, I'm 'just' a student, I'm 'just' a mother, I'm 'just' an employee, I'm 'just' an employer, I'm 'just' an executive, I'm 'just' a politician, I'm 'just' a teacher, I'm 'just' one person

To dismiss the power that we have as 'just' one person - no matter who that person is - is to rationalize the impossible. I cannot rationalize my choice to do nothing on so many fronts because I'm 'just' a student, to be complicit in all the ills of the world because I'm 'just' a student.  

To wait until I'm something 'more' than 'just' a student reinforces messages our society is insistent on sending: that powerful and influential people are more than 'just' a person; that they are somehow better than the rest of us, that they have done something to deserve the power they hold. But we need to ask why they hold that power - and the answer lies (partially) in the fact that we are willing to give it to them, to accept their ideas and their judgements about what and who is important and will get funding and be noticed. Waiting also fundamentally undermines the value of the person I am in the present (student, mother, politician) - while that person is worth no more than anyone else, neither is it worse any less.  It concentrates power in the hands of those who society has collectively agreed (implicitly or explicitly) has power because I am one less voice challenging and questioning if I wait. 

We are all "just" one person. We are all oppressed in one way or another, we all have things working against us taking ourselves and our ideas seriously. It is easy to buy into those belittling messages that rob us of self-confidence and self-esteem because they are pervasive, and because to some degree, they make it easier to sleep.  As "just" one person, I'm not complicit in anything. 

But, if we can take ourselves seriously and question and challenge and critically think about what is going on and refuse to be too busy to tell others what we think the face of the world will change. We have to stop writing ourselves off as "just" someone and we have to realize that collectively, and as individuals, we have more power than we realize, our ideas are more valid than we realize, and our concerns - whether they be about food, poverty, health, the environment, human rights, women, education, children, sex workers, soldiers domestically or internationally - our concerns are the ones that should be on the agenda. We have to stop waiting.

"It’s not possible...to grab the heads of state by the scruff of the neck and shake them into equality. But it should be the role of the UN family to shame, blame and propose solutions, all the while yelling from the rooftops that inequality is obscene.  Only then will change have a chance.” –p.143-144, Race Against Time

Monday, April 14, 2008

Hungry?

The food crisis is being talked about and talked about and talked about. Climate change advocates have been talking about it for awhile - hotter temperatures, more floods, more droughts - all lead to it being more difficult to provide enough food for the world. Increasingly, people talk about the amount of grain it takes to feed animals we eat as meat. The exploding middle class - which is good, in the sense that fewer people are living in poverty - means that more people are eating more food, and more meat at that. The minimum thresholds for biofuel are increasing demand and competition for food. 

So while a major proportion of the population starves and while food riots are becoming commonplace in increasing parts of the world, what we do in North America is consume more calories in junk food and desserts and fancy coffees every day than the rest of the world eats period. We consume and consume and consume at the expense of those with the least and never stop to think about it. 

There is hunger everywhere.  The obvious contrast between the have and the have-nots, between obesity and starvation is growing, and so much more can be done to stop and reverse it. The solution lies in redistribution: closing the gap from the top to the bottom by cutting excess at the top and making it available to those without enough. Less food consumption here in Canada - say, reducing junk food or expensive coffee - would mean more money for food in places where it is a luxury.  It would also save food packaging, empty calories and all the health problems that come from processed food - not only obesity, but illness that is caused by the preservatives and substitutes that are used. Seems like a win-win situation. And all it takes is a little of self-discipline and some political willpower.

For Brains that Never Stop

It's often hard for me to tell my brain to stop thinking about structural oppression and injustice, feminism, racism, income inequality, the heterosexual assumption, media misrepresentation, war, hate, social constructs, homelessness, development, international aid and relief, inaccessibility of  and other social justice issues.  When should these things in everyday life be pointed out - and when should they be accepted, however grudgingly?  For instance, the often-cited example of spending $5 on a coffee when so much of the world lives on much less than that every day. Messages sent in music, advertising and popular television? I don't know the answer - but I do know that I'm not prepared to remain ignorant to these issues and the host of other injustices I have yet to even begin to understand. 

The reason I stop thinking is because not to stop thinking would change everything.  Being able to 'stop thinking' further perpetuates all that I think about in so many ways.  I understand why many people just don't think about these things - and don't like it when others point them out - allowing yourself to go there is messy.  What can I live with accepting, and where do I draw the line?  When do you settle? 

Society is constructed by all of us - by everyone who buys in and everyone who doesn't. As much as being one person is overwhelming and hard and I continually question what it actually does - it is what I can do, right now in this moment. And I hereby resolve to be that one person.  To spend less money on Starbucks and use it to give someone else the basics. To reduce my carbon footprint. To challenge and question, to listen and learn. To not eat meat for a number of reasons (half the world's harvest is fed to farm animals; 800 million people go hungry.) Yes, that means cows and pigs - which we then kill to eat - are better fed than humans. (Check out www.eatlessmeat.org for more).  Even a 50% reduction in meat consumption by 2020 could mean 3.6 million fewer starving children.  To not eat junk food - which is related to income inequality, food insecurity, obesity and Western excess. And poor health. To never use plastic bags.

Some people don't look: "Today what might be unpleasant or personally demanding, but is not actually seen, is often ignored" (Chambers, Rural poverty unperceived). I am choosing to look, and not to blink. And move the line further from where it is now,  and to accept less of what is going on, and to challenge our politicians and world  leaders to do the same.  We have reached a point where many movie stars and other celebrities (Stephen Spielberg is personally boycotting Bejing because of the Chinese government's complicity in Darfur and refusal to recognize its domestic human rights violations) are doing more to fix this stuff than so called "world leaders".  Darfur is going to be our Holocaust - if future generations are less racist than this one anyways - and instead of leaders who stepped up, our legacy will be leaders who stepped down, or turned their heads, or said our military was busy. There are more ways than guns to make a difference. Stephen Spielberg figured that out ahead of the rest of the world.

Some of these things are easier than others, and all of them are easier said than done. My life won't change overnight; Rome wasn't built in a day. But I am one person. And I am one person with the power to make choices every day to make things better, to buy into systems of inequality - or not. And making one more choice to do one less thing that makes this world a better place is what I can - and will - do.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Humanitarianism

Humanitarianism is an attitude.   It’s a willingness to help, to see the needs of other people, and to respond.  There are so many people – people we know, people we see every day and people we will never meet – with unmet needs. For some people, it’s the basics: food, shelter, safety.  Others need a sense of belonging or dignity, or someone to hear and understand what they are saying, to genuinely care about them, to take the time to listen without judging.  People need to feel loved. This is the best present we can give.

Every day, we have a chance to be a humanitarian – to be the person who sees, and responds.  Humanitarianism isn’t about giving the biggest gift; it is about giving with the biggest heart.