The Social Experiment

The Bindings of Language

2008-10-17T20:03:00.003-04:00

"Why do you choose to be homeless?"

Near Bloor and Spadina there is this homeless girl that, for whatever reason or another, I like talking to. Today, she had her dog with her and was reading a book. I asked her what book she was reading, and we both had a good laugh at the Star Trek novel she was holding.

So I walked away and I felt that I was at this point in our relationship where I could ask why she was on the street - and what popped into my head was the question, "Why do you choose to be homeless?"

My years of school have given me the wonderful skill of over analyzing everything - to the degree of ridiculousness. Academics are ridiculous. But besides that being the point, I caught myself examining the language which had come into my head. Why, so naturally did I think, "Why do you CHOOSE to be homeless?", as if homelessness in Canada was a choice.

When I was in Vietnam, India and Bangladesh not once, ever, did I think of questioning the street children who came up to ask me for money or food. I knew WHY - the causes of their homelessness was obvious.

The causes of homelessness in Canada. Not so obvious. Especially among youth. And you know, homelessness here is so different - the homeless here are literate and it is not unusual to see a homeless person reading a newspaper or a book(to a certain extent).

So I asked myself, where did my language come from? I have become so over analytical, so ridiculously critical of everything including how we use language, that I have not been able to stop thinking about this since I left Bloor and Spadina. And you know, maybe this is me being stupidly complicated, but the way that language came into my head so naturally is an indication of a larger problem. It has to do with society and the way we view homelessness.

We see homelessness as mental health issues, addictions. And if you have neither of those, and are still on the street then you are lazy. As North Americans born into capitalism and materialism, growing up with the indoctrination of the American Dream, we cannot fathom poverty if it is attached to hard work. It must be laziness.

But that laziness is just a SYMPTOM - a symptom of a larger illness which we, our government, our institutions and we as citizens have failed to address. We've been seriously misinformed, misled to believe that our system works. And so whoever is on the outskirts of that must be mentally ill or lazy.

Man, I feel like I'm in the matrix and I can't get out of it!

Yukon

2008-10-16T16:45:00.005-04:00

What does a small community like Whitehorse offer?

What can you get in a small community like Whitehorse that you can’t get in Toronto? Well, a very warm sense of belonging exists. The territory itself is 30,000 with 23,000 living in the capital. In addition, you get encouragement for being an artist no matter what level of talent you possess.

The first few days I integrated myself into community activities and hang outs by spending a lot of time at BYTE (Bringing Youth Towards Equality), a youth organization that encourages youth initiatives in the community. They are well known by the community, including amongst teachers. Julie Diyen, our Yukon Youth Engagement Coordinator is FANTASTIC.

Interestingly, there is a growing arts movement in Whitehorse and I spent a lot of time at the local Baked Café hangout where people of ALL artistic abilities came out to perform. It just goes to show that art is necessary to the spiritual health of a community and can grow anywhere.

I also went to the Victoria Faulkner Centre, a space for women. I met a representative from rabble.ca and Jessica Yee, the founder of a sexual health network for Indigenous Youth.

10 hours of workshop training for 13 motivated Whitehorse youth

Facilitation is a lot like teaching.

They both fall under the category of education. The similarities? Sometimes I feel like I am learning (struggling) as I am supposed to be facilitating. For example, I’m not sure if I’ve reached the audience or hit them with the right message. I constantly find myself going back and re-examining what I did, and planning and revising activities so that I can make it better and clearer for next time. I guess that’s the teacher in me.

The tensions that I grapple with are between facilitating and teaching. The differences? I definitely do not do any disciplining. However, like teaching I feel like I am still guiding people into a direction. There still has to be an overall goal. The word teaching traditionally denotes directive learning as opposed to learner directed. However in modern times, teachers, especially those in adult education are encouraged to take on teaching that is in line with the definition of facilitation. I guess for myself, teaching and facilitating are more alike than different because I feel like it still aims to highlight the multiple paths in which to attain knowledge.

In the first session I had on September 27th with 13 BYTE youth facilitators, I asked them what they thought their youth community needs were, and the successes and challenges to youth participation in Yukon.

For the findings, go to projects.takingitglobal.org/BYTE_FT (under Documents).

The importance of intergenerational activities and dialogue was brought up.

The Yukon youth of today
Are like the Yukon miners of yesterday
Toiling for adventure in the freezing cold
Mining and pining for hoped to be gold
For goals which remain a talked about dream
A myth a reality which may not be what it seems
A sense of struggle raise questions to surface
Where is our place? Where is our purpose?
What happens when the emptiness strike
And there is no treasure
Only coals and the like?
Today the youth battle obstacles
Such as isolation, race, gender and class debacles
They are streaming down the Yukon water
A path of wondrous resource or apathetic slaughter?
About staying afloat on the changing currents
What is going to be the savior, the salvation, deterrent?
Perhaps a sense of community
Where everyone is equal with opportunity
It is hard to say only one thing I know
Is that youth must determine
Where they want to go

Transformative Learning

On the second day, we did 7 hours of training which included a TakingITGlobal workshop, the Right to Be Heard, a quick overview of Millennium Development Goals, and finally a discussion on Anti Oppression.

It was a transformative process to be able to do anti oppression training with 13 people who had virtually been strangers a few days ago. We went through the process of challenging our own assumptions, oppressions, and biases. I think identifying other people’s biases is easy, but examining the factors that oppress ourselves, or what we use to oppress others and having the safe space to address these is therapeutic. And sometimes oppressive factors are not as obvious as classifying it into racism, sexism or classism. I had never felt so close to a group of strangers as I had after that session.

The last 20 minutes was spent lightening the mood with a group hug, and a chain laughing exercise.

I can only describe the entire trip as transformative – as the power of people to connect with one another and engage each other through educational, open dialogue is a feeling that I cannot properly describe.

The Attempt to Create the Long Lasting Meaning List

2008-10-13T22:31:00.005-04:00

Haha.
I'm out of hand with this aren't I?

Here is a list of suggestions to create authentic, long lasting meaning in one's life (it will continue to grow - these first few are from myself, Jeremy and Amy)

1. Meditate
2. Call a friend/family
3. Spend time with kids
4. KISS
5. Listen to the radio
6. Listen to beautiful music
7. Play beautiful music!
8. Write a letter
9. Look at the sky
10. Have a powerful moment reading a book
11. Write down your favourite quote
12. Write down your thoughts!
13. Sing a song you genuinely love
14. Touch someone's hair, skin (and make sure they are over 18)
15. Admit you have feelings for someone for the first time
16. Finish a project you've been working on
17. Create a photo album (that's not online haha)
18. Ice wine!!
19. Tell the people in your life you love them
20. Thank the people in your life - tell them why they add to the quality of your overall happiness
21. Travel when you can
22. Cry when you can
23. Laugh when you can
24. Yell at the sky HEY WORLD, HERE I AM (Margaret style)
25. Volunteer
26. Use Facebook to reconnect with an old crush HAHA
27. Go on a picnic
28. Daaaaaaance
29. Write a story
30. Hug someone for longer than 5 seconds
31. Do a spin class
32. Hold someone's hand
33. Look someone in the eye, and say "you are wonderful. thank you"
34. Take a walk when the leaves are ablaze with fiery glory
35. Work
36. Stop working.
37. Skip a day of work
38. Say good morning and "it's so good to see you" to one person on a Monday
39. Take a hot shower
40. Watch a mind blowing documentary
41. Learn something

A Leap Into (Cyber) Faith

2008-10-13T01:06:00.002-04:00

In a technologically connected world, we are becoming increasingly disconnected from other each time we log on and sign in through online communities such as Facebook.

Why is it a scary thought to delete one’s Facebook profile? I had to reflect upon my own experience for the answers.

Building a Sense of Community

I realized that in the last year and a half, I had gone through the similar stages one goes through when moving to a new place. At first, I was apprehensive to the community and what it could offer. I dipped my toe in reluctantly, then slowly then with more enthusiasm as I started to learn the ropes. Soon, I became fully integrated. After a lot of devotion, time and effort, I have managed to create a life, a reputation in Facebook Land. I have friends, memories (photo album galore!), and a profile history. I have achieved recognition and attention from others (thank you, status updates!).

And you know what is powerful for me in this place compared to my real life? I have absolute, blissful control here. It is up to me to change my status, add or delete Friends, tag or untag photos. I can feel attended to through the small messages people write on my wall.

To be or not to be? To connect or disconnect?

It all comes back to connections. Or disconnections. In today’s society, our sincere, real, human connections have become so infrequent that we have turned towards technology to decrease our sense of isolation and loneliness. As our houses are built further apart, and our cities expand and our neighbors become faceless strangers, we are reaching out to Facebook (brilliant name, isn’t it?) to feel like we are nose to nose with other people.

Oh the human mind! Its social instincts so tough, that as our concrete walls become thicker, our drive to reach out becomes stronger. Why else are we addicted to chatting, messaging, and online profiles? That’s all we want to do as human beings – is brush our skin up against another person’s and breathe with a sigh of relief, “Phew. You are there. We have formed a real connection.”

The Online Addiction

Our need to hug, laugh and cry together has only augmented in a world where resilience is synonymous with Western values of emboldened independence and strength. For some reason, it is seen as weakness to depend upon others for happiness. It is frailty to rely on family networks and community ties. Yet, ironically the increase in online communities is a clear indication of our want as human beings to be connected.

It All Comes Down to Fear

So lately, I had to re examine myself. I ask myself how much does Facebook actually contribute to my overall happiness? Why am I having such a hard time deleting my account? It all comes down to fear.

Fear of loneliness.

Fear of no longer existing (let’s admit it, online presence is everything nowadays).

Fear that people will no longer recognize, see or care (isn’t that what status updates are? A need to feed into the fact that people care about us? A need to feel validated for our achievements, whereabouts and thoughts?).

So at the same I ask myself, what have I got to lose in this social experiment?

Things I Have to Lose

There are the hundreds of “friends” I have made.

The photos are a reflection of my life and those I have met.

But…

Then I went through my list and re examined those I am actually true friends with. Granted Facebook has allowed me to regain people in my life I would never have thought of otherwise. Then again, had it added to the quality of my human relationships?

Then I thought about how many hours I spent narcissistically looking at photos, or creeping other people.

I contemplated that Facebook allowed a lot of old and new relationships to (re)form, but it had also amplified what I call the tv reality complex. I had become an actress in my own reality show, constantly aware of these cameras which follow my life around. Each time a wall post, a photo or a status goes online, there is a constant awareness of OTHERS. What do others think of me? How will others react?

And it all came down to this conclusion. Though Facebook re-lifted the amount of Friends I had made, it did not contribute to the quality of my overall happiness. In fact, I have spent countless hours thinking about how OTHERS will see me, and reflect upon me. This, by no means is healthy for creating a deep sense of long lasting peace within oneself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone on a reality tv show who has been at peace with themselves – I might change my mind if the Dalai Lama ever decides to star in one…

Preparing for the Burial

Write down all the contact information of VIP!

Save photos!

Mentally prepare for the insane, itching sensation that I can no longer peak into the lives of others!

Prepare for serious withdrawal!

Prepare to reinstate Facebook once I realize that online profiles and relationships do create meaning in one’s life lol!

Picture a widow in black.

I will spend the next week mentally preparing myself for the death of my Facebook profile, my Facebook friends and Facebook life which I had created for myself in the past year and a half. I will spend my time saying goodbye, lovingly petting it as I would a close friend who had kept me company during the harshest of times (dramatic, I know).

Or picture a drug addict.

It’s like coming off a drug and hoping your friends remain with you despite your decision to move into a more sobering lifestyle. The truth is my true friends will be many fewer than 312 I’m afraid ;)

And so the social experiment

I want to see for myself and take a risk, what will happen if I delete my Facebook account? What will happen to my overall happiness? Without Facebook how will I achieve a connection to others? Will I pick up the phone more often? Write more? Read more? Feel lonely? Feel no difference?

Certainly, I realize the irony in keeping this blog. I am a true product of my Internet society – I cannot fully disconnect. The more old school modes of email and chat will still be a part of my life. And blogging, well I am a writer and that means my mode of self expression comes from sharing my thoughts in roman alphabetical form. So, I cannot censor myself from this entire method of artistic impression, therapeutic online communication, ego feeding mechanism, whatever you may call it. I am only human, I deploringly admit!

Purpose, Meaning and All That Fluffy Jargon

I simply want a purpose to what I do. I’m certainly not boycotting Facebook or condemning others to use it.

This is simply an experiment. A test to explore the quality of happiness and meaning which only I can create for myself once outside of the realm and awareness that others are watching me. And it is my purely, personal feeling that staring at people’s profiles, being tagged in photos, and receiving messages on my wall only gives me short injections of temporary joy.

Again, the irony of the blog.

We all need an outlet don’t we?

Onwards and upwards!

A Fine Wine

2008-08-27T00:16:00.003-04:00

Based on a discussion with my brother over gourmet Chinese food.

Fried noodles.

The following thought is not new. Nor is the act of stating it over and over get old. And as my friend Phil said, it is a slightly oversimplified view. But here it is nonetheless!

When men age, it is like a fine wine - the imagery of a round, robust fermenting aroma that gathers vitality in a wooden, oak barrel comes to mind. Men become better and more mature. One looks forward to a passing year. A man who has aged at least a quarter of a century is a drink certainly to be appreciated and sought after. Age gives men, as it does to wine, more credibility.

When women age, there is a different image. The female is compared to a flower, staying too long in the sun as it wilts and prunes her. In a short period of time, the flower peaks, blossoms and enjoys its youth. In reality, the internal state of an older woman is in discordance with her age - a woman's confidence grows and the stability within herself strengthens. How sad that her physical, outward, and ovarian like abilities should dominate the aging process.

Controversial thoughts? I think we need to fight for the beauty of an older woman - every wrinkle in her smile, wise twinkle in her eye, piece of gray hair, and gravity loving body parts reflect and represent every ounce of experience and emotions which she has poured so carefully and lovingly into her life.

The Revival

2008-08-25T22:18:00.001-04:00

After over a year, and one failed attempt (think quivering raspberries) I have decided to reinstall my blog. I do so now at a period when I am re captivating my make up as a woman.

The thing about heartbreaks and rebutted loves is that it stirs up the emotions, the muse and the creativity which has laid dormant in the beings of my writing fingers. I feel the itch, the tingling at the tips, and I know - it is time to let the words come out again. It is time to revive the blog.

My heart, in the last few months, has become a quivering heartbeat - it is delicately hanging in the balance of my chest. It dangles there, pulsating, slowly, red, dripping in its desire to be loved. As I near the age of 26, there is a comedy and tragedy which has been bestowed upon me. I have been honoured and inaugurated into the ticking hall of fame: the woman's biological clock. Oh, as independent and strong as any woman thinks she is - eventually she falls under the spell of an inner, dancing older-than-time tick - tock.

And you know, I do find danger in writing under this title for I do not want to be labeled as an oversimplified modern day Carrie Bradshaw. I am more than a woman who strains to find her matched love. I am also a person who dreams of a solid career, an advocate for equity, a struggling student trying to find a place in academia, a quest seeker for knowledge, an avid reader and a lover of words. However, as the idea came from Simone de Beauvoir, we are not like men; we cannot escape our sex. We are women first.

I will not struggle with the image of typifying myself into the woman who pines for love. But I also cannot deny that beyond everything that I am, I am struggling and coping with my insatiable need to love. Isn't love the motivation for everything? Why do we want to change the world? Why do we fight for what we most believe in?

These are the chronicles of a love torn woman.