my favourite women: female musicians during my teen years

Happy International Women's Day! On this special day, I'm going to talk about the albums and songs by female musicians that influenced me during my teen years. Another time, maybe next year when I'm getting perilously close to my thirties, I'll make another post about the female musicians I discovered during my twenties. But for now, here's what served as my soundtrack throughout high school and helped shaped my young mind, more or less in chronological order.

Jewel, “Pieces of You”- She’s not the kind of music that I’d listen to now, but when I started listening to her album Pieces of You, I was just learning to play the guitar and also just learning how to turn my poetry into songs. Jewel’s songs were easy to learn on the guitar, but had enough meaningful heartfelt lyrics that she taught me so much about songwriting. It was because of her that a twelve-year-old Gloria played her first concerts in her bedroom in front of all of her stuffed animals as her audience, dreaming about one day playing on a big stage to real people.

Fiona Apple, “Tidal” – I was going through the terrible teens when I discovered this album. I was struggling to deal with growing up – one moment I felt happy for no reason, and the next moment I was feeling sad like no one would ever understand. Fiona Apple’s Tidal held my hand through this whole process, taking my emotions seriously and treating me like an intelligent adult. I felt “Never Is A Promise” to my core, and of course, any survivor of sexual violence can relate to the feeling of emptiness that she sings about in “Sullen Girl”. Fiona sang about her feelings with sophistication and rich imagery, and to this day I attribute to her my tendency to use big words in songs, rhyming words like “eczema” to “cinema”. It’s okay to be the nerdy girl. It's okay if you don't feel like smiling. You don’t have to dumb your words down for the world.

No Doubt, “Tragic Kingdom” – Sadly, the 1990s for me was a huge dearth of female rock role models that I could look up to. This was because Napster didn't exist yet, so the only music a girl in the suburbs of Ottawa could listen to were whatever was being played on Kool FM or The Bear. The big rock bands on the radio were folks like Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, very dudely dudes, and not a girl in sight. All the girls were on the other pop station, shaking their butts to songs like “Wannabe” or “Hit Me Baby One More Time”, and I wasn’t interested in that. There were a few exceptions though. There was Alanis Morrissette, but my mother wouldn’t let me listen to her because of her lyrics (she says the F word in one song!). I did have Gwen Stefani, thank God, and the wonderful girl power album that was Tragic Kingdom. Gwen Stefani was my voice during the 90s, with hits like “Just a Girl” and “Sixteen”.

TLC, “Unpretty” – Like I mentioned, I didn’t have nearly enough female rock role models in the days before Napster, and for a good chunk of my teen years I felt disillusioned with mainstream music on the radio because I saw them as corporate puppets putting out bland mush. One of the few exceptions was TLC. I was surprised by Unpretty, which directly criticized society’s pressure on women’s appearances. Feminism on the Top 40s Chart? It gave me a bit of hope and opened me up a bit towards the radio.

Queen Latifah, “U.N.I.T.Y.” – Another exception to my boycotting of Top 40s music was Queen Latifah. A song protesting street harassment? Bad ass! Who you calling a bitch? I was also pleased to see that Queen Latifah could be portrayed as the beautiful woman that she was, even if she wasn't the typical skinny blonde pale chick that starred in American Pie movies.

Lauryn Hill, “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill” – Lauryn Hill was the big sister that I always wished I had, telling me “not to sell my soul because it’s in” and “don’t be a hard rock when you really are gem”. I liked the fact that she was never afraid to speak her mind, and her boldness inspired me to no end. Plus, her tunes were great to dance to.

Sleater-Kinney “Dig Me Out” – one of my guy friends introduced me to Sleater-Kinney in high school, and tragically that is the closest I ever got to discovering the Riot Grrrls scene in the 1990s during a time when I so badly needed a female rock star role model. When I first heard this album, I thought, whoa, these girls are so weird. They sing weird and they’re play their guitars loud and they have no bass. Over a decade later, I started up an all-girl rock band with weird vocals, loud blaring guitars and no bass.

Luscious Jackson, “Fever In Fever Out” – Holy cow! An all-girl rock band! This is all I could think throughout the whole 90s. They weren’t necessarily super heavy or rock-y like Hole was, but still…a girl band. It was that rare to me.

Bjork, “Vespertine” – I dressed up as Bjork for Halloween one year in high school. People thought I was trying to be a swan. People thought I was weird. I didn’t care. Bjork was really weird, and I thought she was really cool.

The Cranberries, "Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We?" - I actually don't consciously remember the Cranberries as being a major influence during my teens. I mean, I included "Linger" on a mix CD I made to listen to whenever I had PMS, and whenever I heard them on the radio, I remember thinking "they've got a female singer! How about that?" But I just remember liking them, not loving them. In recent years, I've gone back and listened to this album, and it's struck me: so much of the music that I love now are music that sounds like the Cranberries. I love the Cocteau Twins because they sound like the precursor to the Cranberries. The driving bass guitar rhythm like in "Dreams", the chorus effect on the guitars, the jangly sounds, the way Dolores harmonizes with herself..listen to my band's song "Beaver Pond Forest", and in between the blaring distorted guitars (where I am paying a loving tribute to Sonic Youth), can you hear my love for the Cranberries in the way my Stratocaster is heavily processed through my chorus effects pedal? Is that just me? Clearly the Cranberries influenced me, even if I wasn't aware of it at the time. Thanks, Dolores.

Portishead, "Dummy" - I remember watching the Live in Roseland video on VHS with my guy friends, and just feeling so spooked and amazed at the same time. There was the orchestra, playing all the string parts as though they'd originally been written into the music. There was the turntables guy, looking really cool as usual. And then there was Beth Gibbons, not wearing a stitch of makeup, holding a cigarette in one hand and gripping the microphone with the other. What eerie music. What an eerie voice. Beth Gibbons was so cool. Beth Gibbons made smoking look so cool. Afterwards, I got a copy of Dummy and listened to it until the CD got all scratched. Portishead opened the door for me to other types of music than just rock.

photo shoot! discussing domestic violence and gender-based violence

One of the coolest projects I've worked on as a public interest lawyer (besides helping to write a comic book) was helping to run a photo shoot to develop a series of photographs as part of the Legal Assistance Centre's public awareness campaign about domestic violence.

Sylvia Kincses is a photographer from New York who was visiting Namibia at the time, and offered to provide her services for this cause. The photo shoot was pretty fun, despite the serious subject matter, and a nice break from report writing and legal research.

Our organization then turned these photographs into informative posters.



The organization has now finally released a major report on domestic violence in Namibia, evaluating how the domestic violence legislation is working in the country. It's a comprehensive report that I have had the privilege of helping out with. You can read about the findings here: http://www.lac.org.na/projects/grap/grapviolence.html.

I've discussed the topic of domestic violence and gender-based violence before, both in the context of Namibia and for Canada as well, and the topic remains important to me. I think it's important that we continue to fight these battles and educate the public about these important issues. Recently, in my hometown of Ottawa, a Para Transpo driver (a public service transporting people living with disabilities) pleaded guilty to sexually assaulting a woman in a wheelchair who had both intellectual and physical disabilities. The part that stuck out the most for me was this quote from the accused:

Fuentes said he didn’t know the woman lived in a group home and he didn’t remember her saying no or resisting him.

This statement shows a problem with what people understand about consent. In the landmark case R v. Ewanchuk, the Supreme Court of Canada found that there was no such thing as implied consent when it came to sex. In other words, you can't go around assuming that everybody wants to have sex with you. You have to make sure that the other person is consenting. Not hearing a "no" is not enough to assume consent; you have to actually get a green light to go. This rape case should never have happened. It should be common knowledge that you need a person's consent, but it seems like this is not something that everybody understands, or else you wouldn't hear of so many cases of people engaging in such behaviour when the other person is too intoxicated or incapacitated to give their consent. This is why I think it's important to engage in public awareness campaigns, educating people so that it is common knowledge that consent must be given, just like it should be common knowledge that you can't beat your spouse.

I recently finished reading a crime novel called The Hour of the Jackal by Bernhard Jaumann. As far as murder mystery crime thriller goes, it's pretty standard in many aspects of the plot, but what was particularly interesting for me was its setting, as the novel takes place in Windhoek, Namibia. It is the only crime novel I've found so far that takes place in Windhoek. Of course I loved the chance to revisit a city that I fell in love with, but what I found particularly inspiring was the author's subtle message about society's complacency after Independence. The novel's plot is closely connected to the assassination of anti-apartheid fighter Anton Lubowsky, the first white man to openly fight for SWAPO (he also helped found our organization, the Legal Assistance Centre). His murder has still been left unsolved, possibly for political reasons.

A character in the novel asks if Lubowski fought and died for freedom for no reason. I find these words to be inspirational about continuing to push for better conditions in society, not just in Namibia but in our own neighbourhoods as well:

"Is that what Lubowski died for?

"Twenty years have gone by, and still no one wants to know what really happened. The reasons for this have undergone a stealthy change, that's all. People have settled into drab routine, into a rut unworthy of all the struggles that raged in thepast. They have no wish to be reminded that quite different aspirations once prevailed, and that people were murdered for them. Lubowski isn't buried under one-and-a-half metres of earth, but under the guilty conscience of those who have outlived him. Because we don't want to admit to ourselves that we've made nothing out of them, the dramas of the past must remain unspoken. And so, Lubowski has ben sacrificed twice over. Not, this time, for a better future, but so that people can continue to wallow in the dismal and rather dirty but otherwise not uncomfortable morass in which they have somehow ended up. Insufferable, isn't it?

"So what? some will say now. Lubowski doens't care anymore, dead is dead. I take a different view. The dead can be murdered a second time, but you can also try to prevent that."

speaking up for domestic workers

"this one's for the workers who toil night and day
by hand and by brain to earn your pay
who for centuries long past for no more than your bread
have bled for your countries and counted your dead..."
-Dropkick Murphys, "Worker's Song"

Last Thursday, my organisation made submissions at a public hearing to the National Council's Standing Committee regarding motions on the plight of domestic workers.


the beautiful Parliamentary Gardens

One of the recurring themes of my work in Namibia has been that the country has decent comprehensive legislation, but inadequate implementation/enforcement. The situation for domestic workers is no difference. The Labour Act is quite comprehensive and includes a lot of important rights and legal protection for all employees, including domestic workers. The problem, unfortunately, is enforcing those rights and obligations. Domestic workers remain one of the most vulnerable, underpaid groups of workers in Namibia.

This has to do with the specific environment of the domestic worker. For one thing, these domestic workers work in private households, whether as nannies or housekeepers or whatever, where they are isolated from other workers and may not be as aware of their labour rights under the law. Also, because employers tend to be private individuals like you or me just needing help around the house, rather than big professional corporations who might have lawyers and HR consultants, etc., the employers of domestic workers aren’t necessarily informed about what their obligations are under the law either. The number of inquiries I’ve handled at my office from employers wanting to know what they are allowed to do with their workers is a testament to that fact.

And we can’t ignore the gendered nature of domestic work. Obviously, many domestic workers are female. Housework and child-minding, as “women’s work”, tends to be undervalued all over the world, not just in Namibia. Before Namibia’s Independence, domestic workers weren’t even recognized as employees under labour legislation and therefore had no legal protection. Luckily, after Independence, the Labour Act was changed to include domestic workers in the definition of employee. Nevertheless, it has been a constant struggle to convince people that domestic workers are real legitimate employees deserving labour rights as much as any other worker.

These problems were not helped by the fact that the domestic workers' union fell apart and became defunct, and was later absorbed into the union for farmworkers, who are also subject to frequent labour violations, but face different types of problems than domestic workers, who must deal with issues like sexual harrassment on the job.

My organisation, which has been shortlisted this year for the prestigious Women Deliver 50 list of the 50 top inspiring ideas and solutions that deliver for girls and women, has been advocating for the labour rights of domestic workeres for a while now. We've put out some publications on labour rights, including fact sheets and, of course, a comic book...two, actually.

At the public hearing, we proposed the following recommendations regarding domestic workers to the National Council:

1. Raise awareness about the rights of domestic workers. Especially to employers, who often do want to treat their workers properly, but just don't know what the law is. Personally, I hope this awareness-raising comes out in form of more comic books.

2.Do a better job of enforcing the labour rights of domestic workers. As I mentioned, the laws are there, but the implementation is not.

3.Minimum wage for domestic workers. As my organisation pointed out at the hearing, it's kind of hard to believe that farm workers have a set minimum wage but domestic workers don't.

The public hearing was a pretty neat experience and I'm glad I got to be a part of it, even though I was suffering from a huge migraine that day. The National Council, which is kind of like Namibia's Senate, is housed in a beautiful modern-looking building on the Parliament grounds. I was also impressed by the state-of-the-art technology of the room where the public hearings were held, with comfortable chairs, carpet and wood panelling, modern interior designs, and microphones...although strangely enough, the only person who didn't get a microphone was the witness testifying at the stand. You'd think they would be the one who'd needed the microphone the most.

It was also interesting to learn about Namibia's specific labour issues regarding domestic workers, especially since it seems like each country deals with its own unique problems. Canada, for example, has hundreds of live-in caregivers that come from foreign countries like the Philippines to live with and work for Canadian families in their homes. These workers are also vulnerable to exploitation and labour violations. For my International Labour Law class in law school, I wrote a paper comparing the various labour legislation governing live-in caregivers in Canada, Hong Kong, and the Philippines. In that paper, I also argued that the biggest problems with the legal mechanisms in all three countries was the gap between the law, setting out workers' rights on paper, and the reality, the enforceability of these rights - partly due to the very nature of live-in domestic work. Kind of like what we are seeing here.

Anyway, our submissions at the hearing went well, and R. even ended up being broadcast on national TV by the Namibian Broadcasting Corporation. Hopefully we will start to see some change.

"We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die
The first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky
And we're always the last when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working when the fat cat's about..."
-Dropkick Murphys

vote for my organisation!

As I've mentioned before, my organisation produces comic books to promote gender equality issues such as domestic abuse, pregnancy options, and marital rape. This is a great way to reach out to the public, because, really, everybody loves comics.

We've been shortlisted for the prestigious "Women Deliver" List. We're so excited about this that our work administrators have unblocked Facebook for one day so we can all vote (YAY FACEBOOK!). Please take the time to vote for us!

Also, consider helping out my colleague Heather, who is teaching law in the Gambia, bring a team of Gambian law students to Washington DC for an international mooting competition. Come on, you know you want to do it. They even have a website for their moot team.
I personally would like to hear all about their adventures.

how to talk to a survivor of domestic abuse

a song based on a beautiful poem written by a woman in support of her friend in an abusive relationship. After that woman was killed by her boyfriend, the writer found the courage to leave her own destructive relationship. The poem was then turned into a song.

As you know, I work in the Gender Research & Advocacy Project of my organisation, and one of the things that I have been working on is a report on the relatively new Combating of Domestic Violence Act. Our study looks at what works and what doesn't under the law in terms of providing victims with protection. It's been interesting stuff, but I've been mainly working with statistics, files, reports - paper, rather than people.

While living in Namibia I have met several women who are survivors of abusive relationships. Like survivors of sexual violence, you might know and see these women regularly, but have no idea about their sad secrets because they still manage to go about leading relatively normal lives, at least on the outside. Some of them are still in these destructive relationships.

Domestic violence is a major problem in countries all around the world, and Namibia is no exception. Namibians in particular have to struggle with enormous inequalities of wealth, shifting cultural identities, and changing ideas about gender relations. Laws may reflect perfect equality between genders, but that doesn't necessarily always translate to reality.

Despite the fact that I've been working in human rights for a while and have been a strong advocate of women's issues, I have actually had very little training in dealing with survivors of domestic abuse personally. Recently, after one of the women I knew informed me that she was going to return to her abusive ex-partner, I sought out the advice of Canadian anti-violence activist Julie Lalonde, one of the founders of the Coalition for a Carleton Sexual Assault Centre. She gave me some very useful insight which she has given me permission to reproduce here.

Here's what Julie writes:

"Hi Gloria,

"Situations like this are always icky. The person outside the situation sees it so very differently and so it's easy to sit on the sidelines and say 'Are you f---ing kidding me?!' The reality is so much different.

"You can sit down with her and explain how you think that what's really best for her kids is to grow up in a home without violence. Statistically, male children are more likely to become abusers themselves if they witness violence. However, it's important to state that you understand why she thinks this is her only option because raising children on your own is tough stuff.

"I wouldn't engage in a conversation with her at all unless you have alternatives to provide. And if you don't have alternatives, then she is unfortunately making the best decision for herself in that moment. Do you know of any financial assistance she can get? Shelter system? VAW centre? Just showing up and saying 'I think this is a ridiculous decision' and not having a back up plan for her just states what she already knows: I don't want to do this but it's all I've got.

"The other important element is ensuring that she knows that you may not support her decision but you support her and will do whatever you can to be there for her. Otherwise, she will feel that going back to him means that she is surrendering to more abuse, she is deserving of it and that she is asking for isolation.

"People in abusive situations feel hopeless enough already but if they feel like people having given up on them, then they are more likely to stick to the abuse because they feel like they have no other options.

"Take care of yourself.

- Julie."

I have written about gender-based violence before. In my opinion, everyone should learn how to talk to a survivor of domestic abuse. One might think it's common sense, but the reality is, it's not. There are all sorts of aspects of domestic abuse that we might never think about, so it's important to educate ourselves so we don't end up alienating the very women that we are trying to help.

(you can stop reading here if you get bored easily by nerdy lawyers talking)

Why do we need to educate ourselves about survivors of domestic abuse? Because it's not common sense.

In law school, I wrote a paper on the battered woman syndrome for my Advanced Criminal Law class. I'm going to post my section summarizing the Lavellee case, because I think that case is a great example of how people think they understand domestic abuse victims and therefore have the right to judge them for not leaving or for returning, when in reality, there is a lot we don't understand at all.

Here's what young law student Gloria wrote:

In the landmark case R. v. Lavallee, [1990] 1 S.C.R. 852, the accused Lavallee had a long history of an abusive relationship with the deceased, whom she lived with. On the night of his death, the deceased had assaulted the accused and then informed her that he was going to kill her after everyone left the house. She shot him in the back of the head as he left the room. Although the accused didn’t testify at trial, a psychiatrist did testify with a psychiatric assessment of the accused, describing the situation of battered women, particularly noting that she had been terrorized by the deceased “to the point of feeling trapped, vulnerable, worthless and unable to escape the relationship despite the violence” and that in his opinion, her shooting of the deceased “was a final desperate act by a woman who sincerely believed that she would be killed that night.”

The Crown brought an application to have the psychiatrist’s evidence withdrawn, claiming that the jury “was perfectly capable of deciding the issue on the admissible evidence and that expert evidence was therefore ‘unnecessary and superfluous.’” The trial judge rejected this application, and the jury acquitted the accused. The Court of Appeal overturned this, and the matter was then brought before the Supreme Court of Canada.

It is important to contextualize these events in order to understand why expert evidence on battered women was brought forward in the first place. In this situation, the accused was claiming self defence, but it was quite apparent that the concept of self defence as it was then was not suited to the situation of battered women. Gillespie has adeptly pointed out that the common law on self-defense was written not by legislature, but by judges, virtually all of them male, in cases predominately involving male defendants (Cynthia K. Gillespie, “Justifiable Homicide: Battered Women, Self-Defense, and the Law” (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1989), at 182). The result has been a law that permits men to exercise their right to defend themselves in the situations in which men have customarily felt the need to do so, but it does not permit women to exercise their right to self-defense in the situations in which they believe they must do so.

Schuller and Rzepa note that battered women, in attempting to use the defense of self-defense, often face difficulties stemmed in the misconception that people have regarding battered women in their context as well as “the male gendered norm of ‘reasonableness’ inherent in the laws of self defense.” (Regina A Schuller and Sara Rzepa. “Expert Testimony Pertaining to Battered Woman Syndrome: Its Impact on Jurors’ Decisions.” (2002) 26 L. and Human Behavior 655 at 656). Certainly female-perpetrated homicides are substantially different from male-perpetrated homicides, since most cases of the former involve the male partner as the victim. However, since the majority of homicides are committed by males, the overall patterns tend to mask dimensions that are specific to women.

To illustrate, the relevant statutory provision for self-defense can be found in s.34(2) of the Criminal Code, which contains a temporal requirement that the apprehension of death or grievous bodily harm be imminent. This is difficult to translate into the battered woman context. The “imminent threat” temporal requirement may make sense in the context of a “one-time bar-room brawl between two men of equal size and strength”, as explained by Justice Wilson in Lavallee, because it would suggest a motive of revenge rather than self-defence.

However, in Lavallee, the deceased had been walking away, and was not in the process of attacking her; there did not appear to be an imminent threat. But the Court itself noted that it would be unreasonable to expect the accused to wait until the deceased came back to assault her, and pointed out that the cyclical nature of the abused allowed a certain predictability of the onset of violence in a way that is absent in a one-time fight between two strangers.

Furthermore, the elements of self defense contained an objective standard of reasonableness on the apprehension of death and the need to repel the assault with deadly force. But who is the hypothetical reasonable ordinary man in this case? Justice Wilson noted that men typically do not find themselves in this situation, and therefore the definition of what is reasonable “must be adapted to circumstances which are, by and large, foreign to the world inhabited by the hypothetical ‘reasonable man’.”

Also problematic with the battered woman situation is the prevalence of misconceptions about battered women. Often people will ask why a woman would put up with this situation instead of leaving. Is it because she was not actually beaten as badly as she claimed or because she enjoys it in some masochistic way?

Ultimately, Justice Wilson in writing for the Supreme Court rejected the Crown’s submission that the expert evidence on battered women was unnecessary because judges and juries are already knowledgeable about human nature. Instead, the Supreme Court recognized that the average person may not understand the battered woman syndrome, and why women would remain in such relationships. As a result, trained professionals may be needed to understand this, and expert evidence may help dispel the prevailing myths about domestic violence. Essentially, expert evidence on battered women was needed in order to allow the situation of battered women to better “fit” with the gendered common law of self-defence.

postscript on December 6

continuing from my previous post on gender based violence

December 6 is also the Sinterklaas holiday in the Netherlands. Two years ago, while I was studying in the Openbare Bibliotheek Amsterdam, a public announcement came on saying that the library was closing early that night for Sinterklaas. I hadn't realized that it was a holiday, because North Americans don't celebrate Sinterklaas - we just wait for Santa to come on Christmas. As I biked home through the red light district, I noticed that the prostitutes were still working, even though it was a holiday. It made me wonder what kind of clients spend a family holiday visiting prostitutes, and then I got to thinking about how lonely it must feel to be a sex worker working during the holidays. I wrote a song about it. It's not the best song I've ever written, but it definitely is the only Christmas song I've written. I feel it's quite relevant to the topic of gender-based violence, since sex workers suffer a disproportionate amount of violence.

a day to fight violence against women

On December 6, this day in 1989, an angry young man entered a classroom in École Polytechnique in Montreal with a rifle, ordered the men to leave, and shot all of the women in the room, claiming that he was "fighting feminism". In total, he killed fourteen women, one of the most tragic massacres that peaceful Canada has ever known. Since then in Canada, December 6 has been the National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women.

Internationally, November 25 to December 10 also marks the "16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence" Campaign. People all over the world have been taking part in this campaign in all sorts of ways, including Namibia's own Lize Ehlers, who dedicates part of her new album "African Cleavage" to the issue.

"and for those women like myself,
who get carried on the hands
who get flowers and respect
all we can do is fight for those
who have never felt some tenderness
sing for those who have always been oppressed
and who will never be strong enough alone
to walk on out of their bad situation
women who think that they will always need someone
to make them feel slightly valid
women who think thin is more important than health
women who just exist..."
-Lize Ehlers

At work, I've lately been working a lot on the topic of violence against women while helping to finalize our report on the Combating of Domestic Violence Act. One of my tasks involved going through boxes and boxes of court files containing applications for protection orders against abusers, and reading the affidavits of hundreds of women who have been suffering abuse for years at the hands of their partners. You can only imagine how heart-breaking it could be to read some of the stories. What's even more frustrating is the sheer number of files that only have interim (temporary) protection orders and no final protection orders. I have to wonder what happened in those cases? Did the woman go back to her husband? Did he promise to not to hurt her anymore? Did anything change?

This is the thing: gender-based violence is real. Not just in Namibia, not just in Africa, but in Europe, in North America, in your own neighbourhoods. Chances are you know somebody who has silently experienced an abusive relationship at some point in her life. Chances are that many women in your life are survivors of sexual violence, even if we don't tell you about it. And the effects of violence on its victims are devastating and long lasting: even if they manage to keep up a strong face and never show their pain in public, they still struggle with the pain, the fear, and the memories for the rest of their lives.

It's a very sobering and depressing thought, but the thing is not to dwell on the tragedy of it to the point of feeling hopeless or numb, but to use your sadness and outrage to fuel your motivation to fight the issue. Really, it's all we can do, right?

So let's do it. Let's save the next generation from these scars of ours. Moms and dads, let's raise our kids to learn that we can work things out and express ourselves without being violent. Educators and politicians, let's recognize the fact that the more gender equality there is in a society, the less violence there is, and let's put that idea into practice. Men, wear those lovely white ribbons and be proud that you are enough of a man that you would never feel like you need to hurt a woman. Go out and set a shining example to younger boys. Let's all be examples of respect. And to the survivors: sisters, stay strong. You're not as alone as you feel you are.

So in remembrance of this day, I'm posting a song about violence against women that I wrote and recorded in my parents' basement when I was a teenager (so i apologize for the recording quality):



...one day i’ll leave you for someone that loves me
and he won’t rip me up and tear me down inside
one day i’ll leave

i spent the night with the bailiff
he keeps me warm at least
but in the morning he was gone
he always, always leaves
what a wound he left me
i could barely breathe
they say girl you need to find a better way to sleep

one day i’ll leave you for someone that loves me
and he won’t beat me while i sleep and leave me sore
in the morning, i’ll leave...

*****

I finish this entry by naming the fourteen victims of the École Polytechnique Massacre. This is usually done in remembrance ceremonies across Canada. Since I'm in Namibia, I can't take part in these ceremonies, so I'll participate in spirit.

Geneviève Bergeron
Hélène Colgan
Nathalie Croteau
Barbara Daigneault
Anne-Marie Edward
Maud Haviernick
Maryse Laganière
Maryse Leclair
Anne-Marie Lemay
Sonia Pelletier
Michèle Richard
Annie St-Arneault
Annie Turcotte
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz

reflections on the european toilet

Simone DeBeauvoir dedicates at least a chapter of her famous feminist piece Le Deuxieme Sexe to the theory that women derive their sense of inferiority to men due to the deeply rooted resentment at the male ability to urinate while standing. or maybe i'm making this up. at any rate, the quote "No teapot without a spout felt so forlorn" is a phrase that constantly reverberates in my mind.

i thought perhaps this age-old resentment might finally be resolved with the introduction of the female urinal - which exists at my school, as i've discovered on one of my trips to the school cafeteria bathrooms. no, i did not accidentally walk into the men's room. yes, i decided today to give it a try. no, it did not revolutionize my world. it was surprisingly unremarkable. what's the big deal? what is so different about female urinals that they don't require locks (stockings still go down, right?)? what's the point when you still need to use T.P.? what do the other Dutch girls think when they swing into the bathroom and find the female urinals actually in use ("oh, those nature-loving Canadians...")? and how come the Universiteit of Amsterdam decided to modernize their bathrooms when the lecture halls still don't have enough electrical outlets?

i have much to say about the ways European toilets perplex me, but i fear they are not proper things for a lady to publicly comment on. let me just say that in the conflict between conserving water in order to save the environment, and having enough water in your toilet bowl to feel properly comfortable and civilized, i would shoot a seal* and opt for the latter.





*with a camera! with a camera! put that megaphone down, Greenpeace...