Protest Signs: Pro-seal hunt demonstration by Nunavut Sivuniksavut

Last March 17, rather than spending St. Patrick's Day drinking green beer like other students, the students of Nunavut Sivuniksavut held a demonstration on Parliament Hill to show support for Inuit right to hunt seal.

The students wanted to raise awareness about the importance of the seal hunt to Indigenous communities. Even many animal rights activists who argue for a ban on the seal hunt often indicate that they are willing to make an exception for Indigenous subsistence hunting and mainly want to focus on commercial seal hunters. However, it's important to know that the majority of the commercial seal hunt is actually done by Inuit hunters, whose main source of income is the commercial seal hunt, including income to buy the gas, ammunition and other hunting equipment to get the seal meat to feed their families. It's not so easy to separate the two notions, and the seal hunt bans have had a huge devastating effect on the local economies of Inuit communities, even with a supposed Indigenous exception.

You don't need to take my word for it; there's a thought-provoking film by Nunavut filmmaker Alethea Arnaquq-Baril called Angry Inuk which does a thorough job of looking at the issue in an informative yet interesting way. It's definitely worth checking out, no matter what your thoughts on the subject are. There's also a great essay analyzing the colonialist aspects of the issues (although, like I said, you gotta watch the movie!)

The rally involved demonstrations of traditional Inuit throat singing, dancing, and even a sealskin fashion show.  I'm always impressed by Nunavut Sivuniksavut students' strong political engagement and eagerness to share their cultural pride with the rest of the world.

Traditional dancing with drums and singing

Acting out a typical seal hunt, including preparing the sled

Sealskin fashion show

Protest signs: Islamophobia counter rally

Checked out the counter protest to the Concerned Coalition of Concerned Citizens' March for Freedom, Liberty & Justice that was supposedly planned today. Saw only one guy turn up for the original March; the rest of the crowd seemed to be rallying against Islamophobia.

Iqaluit Composting and Zero Waste

I've been working on a really cool art project lately with Ottawa-based artist Mailyne Briggs, who has been documenting her fascinating journey through the Zero Waste philosphy. The idea is to try to reduce one's garbage output to almost zero. It involves significant lifestyle changes (like not buying things that come in disposable plastic wrapping), but if we all became a little more conscious about waste reduction, you can only imagine the significant impact it would have on our landfills and the environment in general.

This Sunday, at Winston Square in Westboro, we're going to be doing a very unique art installation where Mailyne will be creating a work of art out of all of the garbage she's produced since she adopted the Zero Waste concept in February - apparently she can fit it all in a jar. While she's doing this, I'll be performing music to accompany her, using my synths and my loop pedal to create a soundscape.

I'll also be wearing this dress, custom-designed for me for this event by Ottawa fashion designer Brandi Tweed of Sabrina Jade Modeling.

The music I'll be playing are pieces that I composed for this event, all along the theme of waste reduction. One of the tracks features an interview I did with Iqaluit resident Jim Little, who has been running one of the only composting programs in Nunavut for years. Finding True North wrote a great feature about him a while back, and setting his interview to dance music was a lot of fun.

You can check out some of the tracks I'll be playing here:

Anyway, if this interests you and you're in Ottawa, come see this cool performance!

Winston Square Live Painting Art Performance

Sunday, July 12, 2015 from 1-2PM

Winstone Avenue, Ottawa, ON

Event details

The magic is gone: I can no longer listen to the Flaming Lips the same way

These are my reflections in response to recent news about The Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne's decision to fire their drummer over allegations of anti-Native American racism, as well as Mr. Coyne's other actions, including the decision to post a picture of a dog wearing a Native American headdress.

Dear Mr. Coyne,

When I was in my first year of law school, I visited my friend Mike who was working at a recording studio in Scarborough. He had just finished setting up what he described "the perfect sound system". "You've got to listen to try it out," he urged me, and sat me down in the most acoustically perfect spot in the room. He leaned over to press play on the computer and the most wonderful music flowed out of the speaker. I had never heard music presented in such a manner before. I closed my eyes and let the music caress the space between my ears the way a lover would. It was one of the most memorable music experiences I've ever had, where the moment was defined and made special by absolutely nothing other than the music itself.

That song was "The Spark That Bled" by your band, the Flaming Lips. Mike explained to me that he liked using that song to test out his sound system, because he liked it so much.

  I stood up and I said yeah: A fan video of "The Spark That Bled"
I'd been listening to your band long before that perfect music moment. One of my best friends in high school at the time, Bill, was really into the Flaming Lips and he urged me to listen to this "really weird, really awesome" band he discovered. His music taste was pretty good, and I liked what I heard. But I never got fell in love until I listened to those words, "the softest bullet ever shot". After that, I was a convert. I was excited to see you play at Ottawa's Bluesfest, where you arose like a god and seemed to float above the crowd in a giant bubble. Your show was a party, an escape into my childhood's fantasy worlds. Everything was magical. Your music was magical. The experience of listening to you and seeing you in concert was magical. I've now since started my own band and have been trying to re-create that sort of perfect magical musical moment myself.

But with you, that magic is gone now, and I miss it.

I was so sad to read about the latest events. How your friend Christina Fallin posed in a Native American headdress, and astounded by the anger that the photo produced, responded to the people protesting her concert by performing a fake war dance and flipping them off from the stage. And that you were seen pointing and laughing at the protesters. And that you had also responded to the criticism of racism by posting more photos of people and a dog in a headdress. And that you fired your drummer over this issue. I hoped that it wasn't true, and that the journalists had gotten it wrong somehow.

Disappointing when an artist you respected turns out to be a misinformed racist. @waynecoyne of the Flaming Lips,why? pic.twitter.com/sbvkewNLE7
— Deejay NDN (@deejayndn) April 29, 2014

There's an Ontario campaign that asks people where they would draw the line for a political issue. "Your favourite singer assaulted his singer," the campaign asks. "Do you download his latest single?" To be honest, all this time I always thought that it would depend. I thought maybe there would be a way to acknowledge that you disagree with an admired celebrity's personal life while still enjoying their art. But when asked the question: "Your favourite artist disrespects indigenous people. Do you still feel the magic in his music?" the truth is, Mr. Coyne, the magic that I used to feel from your music is now gone, and it has been replaced by a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of sadness. 

From Draw The Line:  we have to ask ourselves where we draw the line when it comes to our favourite artists' actions.
I am not Aboriginal, and I do not pretend to speak for indigenous people. I don't pretend that I will ever completely understand their experiences, because their history of oppression is unique and different from mine. But as a woman of Asian descent, I know a thing or two about cultural appropriation, when people show up to Halloween parties labelling your culture as a costume, reducing a rich and beautiful world that you grew up in to a ridiculous stereotype. When they say something stupid like, "Your people are very beautiful, and you are very good at math" and are astounded that you aren't falling over flattered. I have experienced being laughed at by people when I tried to stick up for myself against racism. I have had my outrage dismissed as hyper-sensitivity. Do you know what those people were? They were bullies.

Now when I listen to your music, no matter how much I close my eyes and try to conjure up that perfect first moment, all I see are the faces of all those people that laughed at me for being a weird Asian kid, and for some reason - perhaps irrationally, I know - I see your face there too.

Do you at any point take a step back, look at where you are and what you are doing, and wonder, "How did I get to be here, on the side of things where I am laughing at people that have been historically oppressed for centuries? Supporting people who flip them off? How did I get to be that guy?" I hope you are reflecting on this rather than just reacting. I would have liked to have thought that you'd be an ally rather than a bully, but there's nothing that can be done now to bring that magic back. I can no longer listen to your music with the same wonder.

Arctic Air was the conversation we needed to hear.

Even before the CBC announced the devastating cuts last Thursday resulting in the loss of over 600 permanent positions, fans of the TV show Arctic Air were disappointed to find out that CBC was cancelling the show.

For those of you who haven't watched the show, Arctic Air is a CBC television show set in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, following the adventures of a fictional northern airline company. The main character of the show is Bobby Martin (portrayed by Adam Beach), a young Dene man who is part owner of the company.

I think I understand why Arctic Air was cut.  It's an expensive show to produce.  Even without the fiery explosions and plane crashes and other stunts, just traveling around the North to shoot scenes is expensive.  And Arctic Air lacks the consumerist sex appeal that reality TV shows have.  Still, I am disappointed to learn that it has been cancelled, because not only does the show provide glimpses of Northern life to the rest of the country, it also provides a conversation about Aboriginal people that Canada so badly needs to begin having.

I am a person of colour, but I am not of Aboriginal descent.  I do not pretend to speak on behalf of Aboriginal peoples, nor do I claim to know everything about an indigenous person's experience.  What I do know is that there is so much more to Aboriginal cultures than is currently being represented on television. I know there is more to it than the cheesy stereotypes we grew up with. They are people, like any other group of people, with a rich diversity of stories, but their stories are not being told.

I'm not saying that Arctic Air flawlessly represents Aboriginal people all the time.  What I do enjoy is about the show, though, is that at least folks are there, on screen, playing a variety of roles.
Arctic Air tries to tell us stories about people's lives in a manner that does not fetishize them or exoticize them as the Other.

There is no claim that any one of the Dene characters speak for all of them, or even that there is a single unified Dene viewpoint; instead, each character is allowed to have their quirks and flaws and epiphanies, without heavily relying on tired tropes. We get to hear multiple perspectives on the issues they face, such as whether Loreen's great-great-grandfather should have a Christian burial or be laid to rest according to Dene tradition, or how to deal with the smuggling of alcohol into dry communities.  It's not the first time that television has portrayed an Aboriginal person's drinking problem; what I find novel about the show is the fact that we get to hear people talking about it amongst themselves, and what needs to be done about it.

In Season 3, episode 9, titled "Rites of Passage", Bobby tries to have a conversation with his son Connor - after having fallen through the ice and while fighting to stay alive while stranded in the wilderness (this happens a lot in the show). Connor is struggling with his identity, after having an unpleasant experience from a racist store-owner, and is resisting his father's urge to embrace the part of him that is Dene.

Connor: "I'm not an Indian!"
Bobby: "Not an Indian? What's that supposed to mean?"
Connor: "My mom's half white, half Filipino. And my real dad, he's white."
Bobby: "David was the one who was there.  It doesn't matter who raised you; it's in your blood."
Connor: "I'm not like them."
Bobby: "Like who?"
Connor: "Those kids who sniff gasoline? Those losers who stagger around town? Drunk?"
Bobby: "Do you see me doing that? Or Loreen or Caitlin? Maybe it's because we know who we are. You can't know who you are unless you know where you come from. That's what my dad used to tell me. And that's why he always took me out on the land every chance he got."
Connor: "Yeah, you're so proud of being an Indian."
Bobby: "Yeah, I am!"
Connor: "So why'd you leave all those years? Go down south, to be a white guy?"
Bobby: "I was still Dene when I was in Vancouver. I mean, sure, I was wearing the expensive suits, but I still got called chief. Look, I know what it feels like to be followed around in a store, because the colour of your skin. Or being called Tonto or Toboggan in school. I get it, okay? But I had two parents who were proud of who they were. I'm sorry I wasn't there to share that with you. I'm trying to do that now."

Where else have we heard this conversation on mainstream television?

Some criticize the show as being unrealistic.  There are airplane mechanical malfunctions in almost every episode, for example, but having lived in the North for over a year now and having flown many times, I'm starting to realize that it's not that unrealistic. But maybe the plot does often take a ridiculous turn (every episode is a life-threatening adventure), and maybe the show portrays Yellowknife as being much more eventful and dramatic than it might actually be, in the same way that the Republic Of Doyle makes St John's seem like Los Angeles.  And maybe the TV show's portrayal of Aboriginal persons is not entirely accurate either. But the reality is that Arctic Air was at least allowing these conversations to happen, and I'm not hearing these conversations anywhere else on air.

Arctic Air was the conversation we needed to hear.  And now it will no longer be heard.  Thank you, Arctic Air, for all of the entertainment you have provided us over the years with your hard work.  Hopefully there will be another show soon to resume these conversations.

my #sealfie from Cambridge Bay

Here's my #sealfie to support the Inuit hunters who feed their communities with the game they catch, including seal, as well as the skilled artists who make beautiful (and very warm!) clothes and accessories with the fur.

with my sealskin hair pin, my sealskin bowtie, and my husband's sealskin mitts

For the record, it was -51 degrees with the windchill outside when I took this photo. I almost got frostbite again in the few minutes I stood outside!

What's a sealfie?

Well, as you can read in this CBC article, Ellen Degeneres caused an uproar when her selfie at the Oscars became the most retweeted photo ever. The company Samsung offered to donate millions of dollars to a charity of her choice, and Ellen chose the Humane Society of the United States, which is against seal hunting. She then put out a statement on her website calling seal hunting "one of the most atrocious and inhumane acts against animals allowed by any government."

The statement stung many Inuit folks, who have depended on the hunt to live for centuries. One woman, Alethea, wrote an in-depth statement which you can read here. A bunch of people in Nunavut have responded by posting "sealfies", photos of themselves wearing sealskin, on Twitter.


look at more sealfies here!
It's particularly timely when you consider the report  recently released confirming that people in Nunavut have the highest food insecurity rate for any indigenous population in a developed country at 68 per cent. The CBC article reporting on it also noted that 76 per cent of Inuit preschoolers skip meals, while 60 per cent have gone a day without eating. Also, the average cost of groceries for a family of four in Nunavut is $19,760 per year while almost half of Inuit adults earn less than $20,000 annually. We've all seen people, even children, going hungry in town here.  Being able to go out on the land and hunt country food has been one way that people have been able to survive.

On a light note, you have to watch this great music video about the seal hunt from Nunavut band The Jerry Cans:



They also have a biting song called "Dear PETA":



And finally: I hope you're still voting every day for my band Scary Bear Soundtrack for CBC Music's Searchlight contest for Canada's Best New Artist! Even if I haven't written a song about seal hunting. Yet.

My Letter to the Minister of Foreign Affairs

In 2011, I participated in the International Youth Internships Program managed by CIDA in partnership with the Canadian Bar Association to work in human rights law in Namibia. Since then, the program has been postponed and is now under review, where the Department of Foreign Affairs, Trade and Development must decide whether to continue funding the program. I wrote this letter in support of the program.


The Honourable John Baird, P.C., M.P.
Minister of Foreign Affairs
House of Commons, Ottawa, ON
K1A 0A6

Dear Minister Baird,

My name is Gloria and I live in Cambridge Bay, Nunavut.

From 2011 to 2012, as part of the International Youth Internships Program (IYIP) managed by the Canadian International Development Agency, I had the privilege to spend seven months in Windhoek, Namibia, working with the Legal Assistance Centre on a project focused on human rights. The Legal Assistance Centre is a non-profit organization that was originally founded to combat apartheid, and now continues to assist local Namibians with important legal human rights issues.

You see, in 2007 I went to law school so I could become a human rights lawyer. However, I found that it was difficult to gain experience in human rights law, as most of the opportunities were unpaid. Many law school graduates cannot afford to work for free, especially if they have student loans.

This is why I consider myself to be fortunate that the IYIP existed at the time. It was a rare and exciting opportunity to get experience as a human rights lawyer, while receiving financial support to help cover my basic day-to-day living expenses. While working with the Legal Assistance Centre as part of the IYIP in partnership with the Canadian Bar Association, I developed essential skills in human rights law while learning to adapt to life in a developing foreign country. It was a life-changing experience where I learned so much.


I am now working as a poverty lawyer in Nunavut, one of the few such lawyers resident in the entire territory. I assist my predominantly Inuit low-income clients with their legal rights, including in employment law, landlord-tenant disputes, and human rights complaints. I feel very fortunate to be working here.

I would like you to know that my employer has informed me that my experience in Africa under the IYIP was one of the reasons why they thought I was a suitable candidate for this position. They explained that my IYIP experience demonstrated my ability to adapt to and thrive in a cross-cultural context, often with limited resources. The experience that I have gained from the IYIP continues to directly help me with my job today, as my clients in Nunavut often deal with similar themes of poverty, addiction, domestic abuse, and isolation that I saw in Namibia – although in a very different environmental climate, of course.

Many of my colleagues who graduated law school with me are still struggling to find steady work.
We all know the story: in order to get a job, you need experience. But in order to get experience, you
need a job. The number of young lawyers that are out of work is particularly frustrating when
juxtaposed with the fact that there is a huge need for lawyers in remote areas such as Nunavut or
northern Ontario. But these vacant positions require some work experience in order to ensure that
clients’ needs are adequately and competently addressed.

I am very lucky that I have been able to achieve my dream of being a human rights lawyer, which
was made possible through my time with the IYIP. At the same time, I feel saddened that the next
generation of law school graduates may not have the same wonderful opportunities that I had with
the IYIP. My understanding is that your department needs to decide whether it will renew funding
for the International Youth Internship Programs. The IYIP offers exactly what new university
graduates need – paid experience. It prepares them for their future career and is an important
investment in the future of young Canadians.

As such, I am respectfully asking you to ensure the continuation of the IYIP, and to engage all
relevant stakeholders in a dialogue should you wish to review the program.

Sincerely,
Gloria


  part of a report about domestic violence I helped work on while at the Legal Assistance Centre
************
Note: You can read about my experiences in Namibia here, or starting from the beginning here

Note: You can also read the letter written by my friend Joshua Lam, who is accomplishing wonderful public interest work in Alberta with Pro Bono Law Alberta and Calgary Housing & Employment Services.

Nunavut election results

Yesterday was voting day for the territorial elections here in Nunavut. A lot of people have been busy setting up, campaigning, and making sure voters were registered to vote. You can see the results for all of the constituencies here, but here in Cambridge Bay, Keith Peterson was re-elected as MLA. He has been the MLA here for the past eight years, and rumour has it that in preparation for voting day, he personally visited the homes of every single registered voter. That's a lot of visiting.

In other constituencies, Premier Eva Aariak lost her seat in her Iqaluit riding, (source: CBC) Two of the constituencies have tied results. Former premier Paul Okalik has been re-elected. Only 6 of the 22 MLAs were re-elected.

As I've mentioned before, I wasn't eligible to vote this year, but it was very interesting to watch the electoral process. A lot of folks were enthusiastic about elections. Last week, workers were standing outside in the -20°C weather, holding signs to remind people to register to vote. You could see their breath turning into steam in the cold as they talked to each passerby. That's determination.

Most impressively, Cambridge Bay had a 101.6% voter turnout rate, which is unbelievable. It means that more people showed up to vote than were originally registered on the list. You just don't see those kinds of numbers in other elections. Can you imagine if we saw that kind of voter turnout rate in the federal elections? Or this kind of enthusiasm?

A lot of my friends weren't eligible to vote this election because they didn't meet the 12-month residency requirement or were not Canadian citizens, but they also appreciated being able to witness the process. My friend C. told me that she really enjoyed watching it all unfold. She grew up in Myanmar (Burma) when there weren't any elections. Since moving to North America, she hasn't been able to vote, but she says it's still neat to see how it happens.

Nunavut elections

Territorial elections are happening this year at the end of October, and we have three candidates running to become the next Member of the Legislative Assembly (MLA), representing Cambridge Bay. This is Nunavut's fourth election.

I've just finished watching the entire West Wing series, and campaigning in Nunavut does not look like American presidential campaigning, pulling up wearing a suit in a limousine and speaking from a microphone to a crowd of a thousand cheering people while a marching band plays.  Nope.  Campaigning in Nunavut means putting on your warm snow parka and wool toque and boots, and marching around on the ice, talking to local folks about whatever is on their mind at the Quick Stop.

 Campaigning in Nunavut also means putting up posters at the bulletin boards of the local Co-op grocery store:

 

Politics in a small town is interesting, because everyone knows everyone.  Everyone knows everyone's dirt. One of the most fascinating things I find about the political system in Nunavut is that it runs as a consensus government with no political parties. From what I understand, this system is done in Canada in many places where the population is aboriginal

It is really interesting to see how politics works without political parties.  From what I understand, MLAs are elected as independents, which kind of means the 22 MLAs are each their own individual party. Also, the areas are single member districts.  In order to win an election, the candidate must win the simple voter plurality. Because there are no political parties, electoral candidates must raise campaign funds on their own, such as Nunavut businesses or their own money.

The lack of political parties also mean that once the Members of the Legislative Assembly are voted in, they have to choose the next Cabinet positions as well as speaker and premier. I can only imagine that this is an interest process. According to a very reliable political sources called Wikipedia, in consensus-type governments, policies are decided by majority vote, so the government has to present policies that will please a majority of the legislature in order to be approved.

I am just two months' shy of the residency requirement to vote in this election, but I have really enjoyed having the opportunity to observe the process.  This week, there was an open forum which gave the public a chance to ask the three electoral candidates questions in order to help them decide who they want to vote for.

Some people complained about the timing of the candidates' forum, which was at the same time as bingo.  Bingo is very popular here. Despite this, there was a big turnout for the event.  People were clearly interested in talking about political issues.

 

 

filming the event

 

 I was impressed by the fact that they had an interpreter set up for simultaneous translation for the  elders that only understand Inuinnaqtun.  There have been visible efforts to make sure that the Inuinnaqtun-speaking elders are included in the political process. A mobile poll has been set up for family members who cannot get out of the house, in order to allow them to be able to vote, with the availability of assistance from the Inuinnaqtun interpreter. 

 

listening to simultaneous translation

The forum touched on a number of topics that were very important to Cambridge Bay residents, including housing, mental health, addictions, tourism, education, mining, and infrastructure development.  It seems that the big political issues tend to be local even though it's a territorial election.  People wanted to know what the candidates would do for Cambridge Bay, and what kind of support they would get from the government for Cambridge Bay.

The candidates were asked questions such as what did they think were the biggest challenges in the community, and how did they propose to deal with it? The candidates talked about substance abuse, housing, and education, and proposed different approaches.  The candidates were asked about what they would do to maximize the community benefits of the Canadian High Arctic Research Station that was being installed in the community, or preparing the community for mining development.  There was also discussion of the preservation of traditional Inuit culture, especially the language, and how to increase services for the elders in the community. The public asked the candidates for their thoughts on the community's problems of youth vandalism.  The topic of suicide was also raised, which was a sensitive subject, as one could imagine. The very mention of suicide quickly caused a number of people in the audience to be filled with tears.

The moderator

 

Candidate Clara Evalik

 

Candidate Keith Peterson, who has has been Cambridge Bay's MLA for the past two terms

Candidate Fred Pederson

I was glad that I attended the forum, even if I don't get to vote. It not only allowed me to see what the electoral process in Nunavut is like, without political parties, but it also highlighted for me what is on the community's mind.  The impression that I got was that people do care about what happens to the community.  I was impressed to see that most people stayed at the forum until the very end, even though it ended later in the night (and even though bingo was happening with a $6000 jackpot!). They wanted to see what was going to happen.

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.

an open letter of support to Wendelinus, Mr. Gay Namibia, after his attack

Dear Wendelinus,

I am sorry.

When they announced your name as the winner of the country's first beauty pageant for gay men, and as the chosen spokesperson for Namibia's LGBTI community, I felt so proud of you, even though I've only met you recently. I was so excited to see all your friends cheering for you, and to see that big smile on your face. I know it must have been a happy moment for you, and I hope it still is.

I was sorry to read in the newspapers today that you had been recently assaulted. I hope you are okay.

I am even more sorry that you can't yet live in a world where you can be who you are, without having some hate-filled ignorant individuals wanting to hurt you for it. I am sorry that you are still being denied your basic human right to love whoever you want and be whoever you are. But I am still proud of you, and I admire you for your courage. I know that you've already been persecuted in the past. You knew that it wasn't going to be easy, and that you would face intimidation in the future for being openly gay and unashamed, and yet you still did it anyway. Thank you for being so brave. You are braver than I could ever be. I hope you don't let this stop you, and that you keep on going strong, because you truly are a role model.

There is a boy in my Canadian hometown who is fourteen years old, gay, and suicidally depressed because he is constantly bullied by his classmates for being gay. There was another boy in my hometown, who was fifteen years old, gay, and suicidal from the bullying - and then, almost two months ago, he committed suicide. You see, every country has people that face problems like the problems you face. And every country has ignorant guys like the guys that attacked you. This problem is bigger than Namibia, or Africa. It's a problem all over the world. So when you stand up for your rights, you are standing up for the rights of people all over the world, even young Canadian boys on the other side of the world.

That Saturday night, when you accepted your title as a role model for the LGBTI community in Namibia, and maybe for the rest of Africa, and maybe for the rest of the world, you looked not only happy but beautiful and strong. I passed you on the streets about half an hour ago. You still looked beautiful and strong. Please, I ask you to keep on being our hope, our courage and our voice. Keep reminding people around the world like you that they are not alone. And let's work together to change the homophobic attitude of society. Because I cannot, in good conscience, tell these sad kids that "It Gets Better" if it actually doesn't. So let's make sure it does.

I know you will be all right. I know that your strong faith in a loving God will help you rise above the hate that is being directed at you right now. My own prayers are with you and the rest of the community.

Sincerely,

Gloria


PS: If you want something to cheer you up, you should check out this website which is dedicated giving worldwide encouragement to that little boy in my hometown. It's pretty touching.

picture by Chris De Villiers


here is the media release i got from the Mr Gay Namibia organisation
MEDIA RELEASE
08.12.2011 – Mr Gay Namibia assault

Wendelinus Hamutenya, Mr Gay Namibia title holder, on Sunday evening , 04 December 2011, was physically assaulted near his residence in Katutura, Windhoek, in what can be described as a brutal “mugging” with monetary gain as incentive.

Hamutenya arrived home around 22:00 from visiting with friends. He was dropped off at the corner of his street of residence and made the short walk up the road to his home, when noticing two men sitting at the further end of the road, visible by street light. As he neared his house, the men approached him and requested “the money (he) won at the Mr Gay competition”. After a short confrontation one of the perpetrators kicked Hamutenya to the ground, while the other aimed for his mobile phone and wallet. Several blows were exchanged between Hamutenya and his attackers. In the end blows from a cold drink bottle from one of the two men to Hamuntenya’s head, face, chin and ribs saw him hospitalized for observation at a Windhoek private clinic for 24 hours.

The culprits made off with approximately N$200 in cash.

Contrary to some media publications, Wendelinus reiterates that this incident and his position as title holder to Mr Gay Namibia should not be confused and used to fuel unnecessary agendas.

“Violence in various forms occurs to persons from different walks of life in our country. The relevance of this incident may have connotation to my title, perhaps they thought I had heaps of “prize money” in my pockets. Likely it was my sexual orientation that made me a target - even my political support that angered them. Or perhaps, and most likely, it was just plain and simply out of greed,” states Hamuntenya.

What remains relevant is that any person, no matter race, gender, orientation and/or ethnicity has the right to safety and should not feel threatened when walking down his/her own street of residence any time of the day.

The Mr Gay Namibia Board condemns this violent act of assault, but also reaffirms that “we are in sensitive times and we should focus on the facts. Propaganda, misinterpretation and wrong reporting on matters will not suffice – factual and mature deliberation on matters is what is needed to embrace the future.”

While a case of assault has been opened with Namibian Police on this incident, Wendelinus remains focused on his participation at the Mr Gay World event in South Africa next year, confirming that his vision and dream for a sensitized and more accepting Namibia towards human rights in terms of sexual orientation remains his core focus.

Questions and/or information relating to the above brief can be directed in writing to the Public Relations Office of the Mr Gay Namibia Board at info@mrgaynamibia.com

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

why I "kare" more about class poverty than Kim Kardashian

On Tuesday evening, I attended/crashed a party being held by Volunteer Service Overseas to celebrate 21 years of working in Namibia. VSO is kind of the rest-of-the-world version of United States’ Peace Corps, which is something that Canada doesn’t have. VSO has placed volunteers in Namibia since independence, but due to many (mostly financial) reasons is now pulling out of Namibia. I like parties, so I offered to represent my organization by manning our booth at the party.

It was held at the Playhouse Theatre again and there was a heck of a lot of free food and drinks, as well as a spectacular dance performance by the Ombetja Yehinga Organisation dance troupe, followed by a reggae show by Ras Sheehama and his band. Ras looks an awful lot like a Namibian Snoop Dogg.

What I enjoyed the most about the evening was the presentation of the work that VSO volunteers have been doing in Namibia. Their work includes rehabilitative work for TB patients, programs for abused women, kindergartens for vulnerable children, soccer camps for young girls, special education for persons with disabilities, and legal services for people who are discriminated on the basis of their HIV/AIDS status (which is what my organization does).

It was the images of the daycares for orphans which really did me in though. Because Namibia has one of the highest prevalence rates of HIV/AIDS, there are so many kids in Namibia who are orphans because their parents have died of AIDS. Some kindergarten programs have been set up to ensure that the little kids get some care, some education, a bit of play time, and one solid meal a day. They explained to us that at first they had so little that they couldn’t even afford a building, and we saw photos of small children trying to study while crowding under what is essentially a structure with a roof and no walls (sort of like where you might have a sheltered picnic spot), and you realize that this is their classroom, even when it rains or gets cold. Eventually with some donations, walls were built, which kind of reminds me of that line from the Simpsons:

Marge: You could give the money to the orphanage. I hear they need a new wall.
Orphan: Three is not enough! (very unattractive cough)

Except that this is somebody’s reality, and not just a TV cartoon.

When presented with these facts, I just started thinking about how it takes so little to make such a big difference in one person’s life. I started thinking, how can I go back to Canada and sit in my big safe clean home and complain about how time-consuming lawn care is or how long it took to download that last episode of Desperate Housewives or how I can’t figure out the colour of my table linen for my expensive wedding? How do I go back to having the biggest concern on my mind being the fact that my public transit bus is five minutes late? How do I bring myself to care about Kim Kardashian’s recent divorce?

I had to face the fact, once again, that I don’t want to be one of those people that, when confronted with signs of terrible suffering, injustice, and inequality, deal with this uneasy anxiety by immersing myself in mind-numbing diversions (like by getting engrossed in celebrity gossip). No. It might relieve my anxiety of realizing the world is not right, but it won’t solve the problem. It seems better to deal with this anxiety by trying to do something about it, no matter how small the contribution. I have no desire to push these problems out of my mind just so I can sleep better.


At work, I read a report on a pilot study that was done regarding a proposal to introduce a Basic Income Grant in Namibia. As part of the study, they gave N$100 to every person living in one area, with no strings attached on how they should spend it, every month for two years. The report records all the incredible changes that happened in the area that had ridden with crime and poverty for years. There was a huge reduction in child malnutrition, with the number of underweight children decreasing from 42% to 10%. School attendance increased significantly because people could now afford school fees and uniforms. People could also now afford to pay the N$4 to visit the health clinic for their medical problems, which is a big deal in a country dealing with such a high prevalence rate of HIV/AIDS. With the grant, people were now able to start up their own businesses in bread baking, dressing making, brick making. There was also a huge decrease in crime. After the study, it was clear that people were using the money to make their lives a whole lot better.

You know what outrages me? N$100 is approximately CAD$14. It seemed incredible that it only took fourteen Canadian dollars per person per month to significantly improve a family’s way of life. For the cost of a grilled chicken salad, soup, and an iced tea in downtown Ottawa, kids could be going to school, patients could be getting medical attention, and people could be running their own businesses instead of resorting to crime to feed their families. It just blows my mind.

Of course, I’m not saying that the solution is to just throw money at things. Whatever we do, we always have to keep in mind dignity, not dependence (as the BIG Coalition emphasizes), and we have to empower people in a respectful culturally-sensitive manner using sustainable strategies. I am so tired of hearing about well-meaning organizations installing water pipes but not paying for their maintenance (or more importantly, not training locals on maintenance and repair), leaving these water projects completely useless after they break down.

And nobody needs or wants your help if you come in ignorance. J told me a story about how those Christmas boxes that churches spend so much time collecting were doled out in a neighbourhood in Gaborone, Botswana. I think about how all these North American churchgoers spent all this time filling up the boxes with things that they were told African children need – stickers, crayons, paper dolls, marbles, dice, a comb, cute little trinkets – and all the effort that must have been made in coordinating their transfer to Africa. Only to have them delivered to a wealthy neighourbood where very well-off kids opened these boxes, and wondered why the heck white people were sending them this cheap stuff? I mean, I think those boxes would have been really well-received and enjoyed by other children living in other regions, but someone’s well-meaning but ignorant lack of understanding made all of these other people's efforts pointless.

And so here we are. We’ve got to do something about it, but we’ve got to do it right. It means not just giving out food, but giving people the skills to earn enough money to buy their own food (or grow their own food). It means not just giving an HIV patient a month’s worth of drugs, but launching public education campaigns to educate people on how HIV is spread, to prevent other people from getting it. It means not just giving a one time donation to pay for a sex worker’s legal fees; it means lobbying the government to change the laws and policies to stop victimizing vulnerable sex workers.

And it’s not just Africa either. The yawning gap of inequality between the rich and the poor is unacceptable in North America too. I’m not saying everyone should be the same and rich people should be punished. I’m just saying there should be a minimum standard of living so that no single mom has to live in a filthy, bedbug-ridden, freezing tiny one room apartment in Parkdale, Toronto, with her four kids and no way of ensuring they’ll all be able to eat breakfast. Not to mention that improving these social issues in North America will have a global effect too. Not just as a role model, but in the sense that, hey, if university wasn’t so expensive causing student loans to be so ridiculous, maybe more people would be able to spend a couple of years working on capacity-building in developing countries, rather than being forced to seek out a high-paying Bay Street job solely for the money.



Last night after work, I volunteered at the Centre in Katutura again to help out some of the kids with their studies. I wanted to practice reading and writing skills, but in a fun way. What’s more fun than comic books? Unfortunately, I didn’t have access to a bunch of comic books that I could use – in general, resources are strained around here and we often don’t have textbooks to teach out of. Luckily, I work at the Legal Assistance Centre where we release hundreds of publications that explain to people their legal rights on various topics -in comic book form. Perfect. I grabbed a half a dozen comic books on child labour and another half a dozen comic books on child abuse, figuring that this would be more relevant to the children than the other subjects.

I have to admit, all ten children’s eyes lit up like you’d never believe when I announced to the class that we were going to be studying comics today. We took turns reading from the comic books, taking the time to pause and explain harder concepts like “minor”, and with the older children helping the younger ones out with the bigger words. They didn’t seem to mind that the comic wasn’t about superheroes but instead how old you must be to be allowed to work.

Then (and I have to say this was my favourite part), we made our own comic strips. I handed out sheets where I had printed out Charlie Brown comics but erased all the text in the speech bubbles, and told the kids to create their own dialogue in the speech bubbles as a writing exercise. The next fifteen minutes was the quietest I’d ever seen them, with them concentrating hard and only speaking to ask how to spell words like “friend”.

After they’d finished, I had them each read out their comic, interrupting them only to correct their spelling. What I found fascinating was the fact that I think most of these kids had never heard of Charlie Brown before, so they didn’t incorporate the Peanuts personalities and the usual Charlie/Lucy banter. Instead, many of them wrote themselves into the story, or me, or other African characters named Moisha, etc. Some of them made a love story, while others made had the characters bicker, or talk about how much they loved school. One of the grade sevens wrote about smoking weed and getting high, which was somewhat disturbing. But most of them were quite creative and excited to share their comics with the others, and every one of them brought their comics home.

As the kids left, I saw one of the little boys limping with a very swollen ankle and I wondered why the heck nobody at home has looked at that yet. I felt upset and anxious again about it. I had to resign myself to the fact that we all have to do our part, and even if my part is something small and silly like introducing to kids my love of reading comics, you know, it’s still better than spending my days watching TV and trying to figure out exactly who Kim Kardashian is.

swimming in the pool where freedom was fought

Eliza is leaving in several days to move back to Berlin. We’re all going to miss her very much, especially me, because I feel like she’s the least craziest of our bunch. She invited us over yesterday to go for her a swim in her pool. She lives in this giant house that is kind of typical of Luxury Hill: all you can see from the street is the high wall blocking everything, and even once you get past the gate and the barking dogs, for some optical reason, you only see part of the front of the house – it’s impossible to see how far back the whole thing extends. You walk past the trees and the glass room with the home gym, walk down some stairs, through this passageway, past a kitchen, past another kitchen (why?), down more stairs, and then all of a sudden there is a lovely large pool waiting for you. And the house still goes on, literally past the eye can see.

This is Anton Lubowsky’s pool. This is Anton Lubowsky’s house. This was where Anton Lubowsky lived. This was where Anton Lubowsky worked. This was where Anton Lubowsky fought for Namibia’s freedom, one of the only white men to openly support the South West Africa People’s Organization. This was also where Anton Lubowsky was assassinated, shot on his own property, by gunmen who to this day have never been brought to justice. That’s a lot of history to take in while cooling off in your friend’s pool.

For some reason I have been quite fascinated with Anton Lubowski these days. I feel like I keep running into his name, whether it’s swimming at his house, or through my boss, who used to work with him back at Eliza’s house and had come over the night he was shot, coworkers who knew him, or at our office library which I discovered acquired his law books after his death. I like to open these books to their front page and trace my finger over Anton Lubowski’s name neatly handwritten.



And why not? I’m always particularly impressed by folks who, despite being born into relative comfortable privilege, sacrifice it to go beyond their perspective to see how others are suffering and then selflessly dedicate their lives to defending their cause. Anton Lubowski was an anti-apartheid freedom fighter and a human rights lawyer who had been detained many times for his “radical” anti-racial segregation views. He bravely openly supported the movement despite threats and accusations of being a white traitor, and played a vital role in Namibia’s independence, and after he died, he was the first white man to be buried in the graveyard in Katutura, the black township of Windhoek. Who wouldn’t be fascinated by his ghost?




Sometimes thinking about Anton Lubowski reminds me of my great-grandfather, who fought for the underground resistance in Korea against the Japanese occupation, and was killed by the Japanese regime, or at least we assume he was, because one night he simply disappeared when my grandfather was still a young boy. I like surrounding myself with the ghosts of brave heroes. I feel less like I can complain about trivial things, like how hot it is during the day and how cold it is during the night, and more compelled to do something worthwhile and meaningful in my life.

Read more about Anton Lubowski