Saturday, December 29, 2012

The loss of a living, breathing, human being. Because she was seen as less than so.

On the night of December 16, 2012 a 23 year old student made her way home with a friend. She had just left City Walk, a mall with shops like Fab India and Cinnabon and a movie theater, and was on her way home.

In Munirka  (in my old neighborhood) she boarded a private bus headed home, her friend stayed with her. It was around 9:30 pm. What happened next seemed unimaginable-- a brutal attack and gang-rape that left her friend brutally beaten and her with injuries so extreme from the rape and assault with a metal rod that she had to have the majority of her intestines removed. As the story sparked controversy and protest in India, she was flown to a hospital in Singapore. Reportedly, unable to speak, she wrote a note to her mother saying "I want to live".

On December 28, she died.

This young women has sparked something in people. Protests appear. People demand justice against the 6 perpetrators. Anger and fear over such acts of violence against women.

"This could have been your mother, your sister, or your daughter." Anyone might say.

Photo: Amrendra Tripathi
But I say no. I want to stop this line of thought right here. Her role as a daughter, sister, or potential mother are not what is important.  She was not a mother, a sister, a daughter. She was a human being. A living, breathing human being. She had dreams, aspirations, goals. She bled, she felt pain. She died. She didn't want to. She had things to do. She had a life to live.

This could have been you. Anyone of us. This young woman has become a symbol, a symbol for horrible acts against another human being that occur everyday in this world. Acts that are far too often allowed to happen. Especially to women. Our mothers, daughters, and sisters often have the finger pointed at them. Why were you there, who were you with, what were you wearing?

Maybe this young woman's horrible assault got more press because she seemed to be doing everything "right." She just went to a  mall-- she came home early-- she didn't travel home alone. She was a student, she wasn't poor alone and unprotected in a slum. Maybe this is why her plight was brought to so many people's attention. A regular young woman-- doing everything "right"-- and this was how her life ended. Brutal violence, suffering and pain. She didn't "deserve" this.

Some years back a preteen Russian tourist was sexually assaulted in Goa. A [female] government official said "She should not have been wearing a bikini."

In these cases of horrific sexual and physical violence against women we are told that men cannot control themselves-- they are not to blame. How are men to control themselves when faced with a 10 year old blond girl in a bikini, or a woman on a bus in the evening with only one male to protect her? How can we expect men NOT to viciously assault, rape, or brutalize a girl or woman (or boy or man) in such a state. Next thing you know, a woman might just be walking alone somewhere. Doesn't she know how men are? Where are her bodyguards? Her stainless steel chastity belt? Or why didn't she just stay home.

If the reason NOT to hurt this human being is because she "could be our sister, our mother, or our daughter" that means she only has WORTH in one of those roles. This paradox gives someone the right to hurt any woman not in that role-- or who does not appear to fulfill one of those roles. It says that those are THE only roles that have worth for a woman.

That is not the reason why we should not hurt women. We should not sexually assault, abuse, throw acid in the faces of, stalk, molest, grope, or kill women because they are HUMAN BEINGS. Living, breathing human beings. With goals, aspirations, and dreams. That feel pain. That bleed. That can die. Just like you. Just like me.

"Men" are not a separate brutal species that are wild and prone to violence and abuse at any moment-- lest we protect ourselves against them. The paradox is that the same cohorts also argue that these wild violent beasts known as "Men" are also wiser, smarter, and more capable to run the world. How can such wild beasts be trusted? So smart and capable yet unable to control themselves when faced with the temptation of a woman visible in the dusk of evening?

Please. It's so obvious that this is a cop out answer. Men are not a wild brutal species all their own. They represent half of the species of homo sapiens. A species capable of great and amazing things, the most important of these is thinking and reflection.

The reason such violence and abuse happens is not because "men" are incapable of self control-- but because they live in a world where they have been allowed to see women as less than human beings. Where messages come to them that they don't HAVE to control themselves-- and that a woman's life is not as valued as their own. These are the conditions that allow for such acts of violence to continue to occur.

This same reasoning doesn't just go for acts of violence against women. Think about it. Anytime societies have targets that they have abused, murdered, raped, discriminated against, starved -- it has come with the righteous understanding that "We are more human. We are more worthy than them."

And those that stand against it-- those who say "this is wrong" they have also always existed . And often act as the catalyst for change. Those who know by instinct, by insight, or by role-modeling in their world. I often think [hope] that these people are in the majority. But people feel helplessness, disillusionment, and they back down.

Letting a world built on a shoddy foundation of "men can't help it-- the burden lies on women." continue to thrive, continue to see women as less valuable and less worthy of protection-- less worthy of hopes, dreams, aspirations. Less worthy of life.

And so we come back to this 23 year old young woman who died yesterday. Her life cut short by people who saw her as an object onto which to commit their brutal acts-- even while she bled, screamed, and cried in front of their eyes, they did not see, or did not want to see, or felt too 'empowered' to be able to see, or were willing not to see...

She was the same as them.

She is not the only one. But she is a catalyst, even in death.

No more excuses. We all have hopes, dreams,  and aspirations. We all feel pain, bleed, die.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

오래간만이애요! it's been a long time

It really has. A lot has happened. A lot has changed. A new city. A new job. Yet in many ways things remain the same. Different but the same. 

In the past few years, a lot has changed in my life. I have been working hard towards my goal, towards my career. Now I have my first job in that field- nursing. I moved to a new city, close to where I grew up, but still not a familiar place to me. 

So much has happened over the past couple of years. I don't really want to rehash it all. Maybe a summary. I got sick. Really sick. I have an autoimmune disorder. I got some meds. I am feeling a lot better. Hope it stays that way.

My dog got diagnosed with cancer. For awhile I wasn't sure what would happen. How long he would live. If he would feel ok and be happy. A specialist saw him. He is on a med now that basically shrank his cancer to almost nothing. He is feeling happy and healthy. I am happy he is able to enjoy his dog life still, and glad I get to have my little companion with me. I don't know how long the meds will keep it at bay. Hopefully a long time.

Those are the big things. The stressful things. Finished grad school in nursing. Now I am working per diem on a postpartum unit. Which I really love. It can be nerve-wracking. Some days I come home feeling so proud of what I was able to accomplish-- other days I feel like I need 500 more years of practice. I love it though. I will keep working hard to be the best I can.

In my new city I got the chance to move in with an old friend from high school. It is great to get a chance to spend more time with her! We ended up making remarkably interestingly similar choices and having similar interests-- so it is fun to get to hang out together again.

On the side of hardness-- in this new place I don't really know anyone else. I haven't really made any friends at work per say. So when I am not at work I am not quite sure what to do with myself. I do have a lot of things I am planning on getting involved with. One of the cool things about nursing is that you can schedule it to have time for other interests too-- so your life includes your awesome job, but that's not all it is. Other things I am getting involved with/trying to get involved with:

  • Working with refugee community members- starting this in mid January
  • Getting in shape-- I started going to a personal trainer to get my butt properly whipped into shape (and the rest of me). Even before I started that I started exercising more regularly and trying to eat well. I'm feeling a lot better and starting to look like "myself" again. Huzzah. 
  • Dance- I really miss my Kathak dance class I took in Boston. It was so great and I really liked being part of the community. I didn't find any Kathak classes here (sniffle) so I am considering doing some other kind of adult dance class--- something like hiphop/jazz sort of modern upbeat dancing.
  • Learning Korean- as you may have guessed-- I am still thoroughly absorbed in learning Korean/about Korean culture, etc. Don't worry-- I still love India-- I just caught a Korean-interest bug too. There is always room for more cultures in my heart. ^^ I have been slowly (and inefficiently) learning Korean on my own-- but I really want to take a class.  
I also have hope that maybe I will meet some interesting potential friends while doing any of the above!! It's weird being in a place where you don't really know anyone (I know my roommate of course, but she is very busy at work most of the time-- she is a very hard worker!). 

This poor blog only gets comments from spammers these days due to my sad neglect. With my revival of artistic and emo-esque feelings, I hope to revive something out of it's cold cold ashes. 나는 행보가이애요. 감사합니다 for reading! 


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Slavic "eye pockets"?


So I have been watching a lot of Korean T.V. dramas lately. They are quite addictive. Because of this I also have starting learning Korean. All the Hallyu shows have inspired me for some unknown reason. I always just seem to like learning languages that are very different than English and also very interesting. So far, it is going well-- and with all the kdramas and Korean language films I have been watching, it is easier to pick up the new vocabulary as well.

In addition, it has made me pay more attention to eyes. Naturally, all the lovely actors on the kdramas have a variety of eye shapes that are less familiar to me, and because of this, I started looking more at different eye shapes and being interested in the beauty and variety of different eyes from around the world. I have always been a fan of my own uniquely shaped eyes. I have what has always been described as "eye-pockets" on my maternal side-- this side is originally from Croatia and I have always been told that said eye-pockets are a Slavic trait. (That side also has English, French, and a mystery). Looking more closely at my own eyes, I realized my eye-pockets are even more pockety (hehe) than my mom's. Other family members are too far away to compare, so I got curious and began searching around about different eye shapes and different regions and peoples.
A photo of my mom from back in the day clearly shows her "eye pockets"
My eye pockets (with flash)


I started by searching "eye pockets" being such a common term in my family, I was surprised to discover no such mention of eye pockets or anyone using it as a describing word for eyes like mine. I began searching around more, comparing eyes from various regions-- and didn't find any photos of eyes that look like mine. So naturally, I became more curious. I found all these strange message boards of people comparing their eye-shapes based on what I think (?) are outdated and strange terms for grouping people by races (i.e. mongoloid eye shape). I thought it was weird that so many people were pouring over eye-shapes using these old school and non PC terms-- and of course it didn't lead me any closer to finding my 'eye pockets' any where out there in the world. Most people seem most interested in the "European" eye shape versus the "Asian" eye shape (in quotes since it is sort of obvious in real life that there is so much variation in both).

But rather than go by regions, it seems like eye shapes vary a lot based on the shape of your skull (i.e. the shape of your eye sockets and your nasal bridge). I think the nasal bridge is also associated with main thing that people can visually see as different to me in eye shapes-- the epicanthic fold-- typically associated with people's eyes from East Asia regions-- but it is also present in many other places too-- including Europeans (though we don't really realize this a lot).

So as I read all of this interesting info, I became even more confused about my "eye pockets".... What are they? Are they really common among Slavic people? If so, is there a specific reason. I think my eye pockets sort of have traits of an epicanthic fold-- they are a fold, and in the same area-- except they are up higher and don't cover the inner corner (medial canthus) of my eye.

So I decided to take some pictures of my possibly unique eye pockets, and share them with internet-land. I would love to know if anyone else has "eye pockets" like mine-- or if they know any better more widely used terms for these eye shapes.
My right eye shows the eye "pocket" more clearly
My left eye from an angle so you can see the 'fold' of my eye pocket
A picture from the front without a flash-- enlarge to see up close.



Sunday, July 31, 2011

Being Othered

I wrote the following as a comment to the blog post "On Being Othered in an Elevator" at Sepia Mutiny, and wanted to share my response here as well. I think this is a very important topic that needs to be considered and discussed more.

I grew up in Maine. No one that I encountered on a regular basis was anything but white. In elementary school I had a few friends who may not have been white, but actually I have no idea where their families were from, and I didn't label them by race at that age. I grew up never once discussing anything related to appearance with someone who wasn't white. I moved to the city to go to college. At some point I started dating a guy. His family was from India. He grew up in the U.S. When we first started dating, we were holding hands, our hands laced together, and he mentioned the cover for the film Jungle Fever. I didn't know what he was talking about, so he said "The cover shows a White woman's hand and Black guy's hand, with fingered interlaced-- just like us." My response? Relaxed and comfortable I said "But you're not black, you're brown!"

At that moment, my cheeks began to burn. I wondered in my head "Did I just say something terrible? Something stupid? Something ignorant? Did I insult him terribly?" It was the first time I mentioned skin tone when talking to a non-white person. Growing up, we would discuss our skin tone among friends-- who was darker, who tanned easily, who burned, who had freckles, my many "Croatian" moles. Among my white friends, I had the darkest skin. I liked my skin. I was proud of it's olive tone. Growing up, we could discuss these things. It was not awkward, or worrisome about insult. It was just discussions-- like about how to perk up my very straight hair, or calm down my friends curly hair.

I don't remember how my boyfriend at the time responded to my comment- except that he didn't get upset or offended. I remembered thinking "Oh my God. I must sound so stupid and awkward." I remember being relieved that I hadn't made him upset in my observation on his skin tone (which was what it was meant to be-- but also sounded like a pronouncement of which "category" he should identify himself as). I also remember this as a symbol of how awkward I was at 21. How much my world has changed since then.

When "Possibly" says that people don't need to mention race or skin color at all-- that we should be blinded by equality, I absolutely disagree. Why? Because it's not how we normally act. I know I grew up comparing skin tones, talking about hair types and our appearances with my friends-- not in a who's better way-- just chatting, comparing, etc. I have no doubt that other children, regardless of race, also grew up doing this.

Saying "I don't see race" doesn't make us more equal. Saying "I don't see race." makes us ignore that racism and discrimination still exist. It also makes people like my 21 year old self afraid to make innocent (and yes, awkward) comments with someone she feels close to-- I still remember the feeling of panic: "Did I say something terrible?". I think that as humans we all naturally want to look and compare-- not to decide who is better, but to become comfortable in ourselves, to learn how our body is unique, maybe to complain a bit-- or come to terms with some part of our self that used to bother us. And let's face it-- friends of mixed backgrounds shouldn't have to live in fear of saying something related to skin tone might be The End of friendship-- because mentioning these things is equated with being a racist.

On the other hand-- I agree with Anna that this woman was inappropriate. This woman was not her friend. Not even an acquaintance. Anyone randomly and awkwardly calling your skin "interesting" on an elevator is awkward and bizarre-- but even more so if, as a minority, you have being "othered" based on your appearance growing up. It reminds you that people might see you as different, strange-- rather than how they see some other (white?) stranger in the same elevator.

I experienced this feeling for a tiny period of time when I was in high school. I grew up in Maine (as I said before) and while basically everyone was white, there were variations in hair color, skin tone, eye color, etc. People had different backgrounds and religions. As someone with very dark brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin, I didn't feel too weird (though I always got the impression that I was seen as "ethnic" in my majority irish/french catholic high school). But during one summer I was a counselor in training (CIT) at a summer camp in Virginia. I went with a friend who had gone there before.

I remember feeling awkward upon arrival. Practically everyone I met was blonde with blue eyes. People would stare at me. I felt othered-- I felt like a strange zoo specimen rather than just another CIT. To add to this-- random people I did not know would come up to me asking:

"Where are you from?" "Maine" "No, what country?" "uhhhh, the U.S.?"

"Are you French?" "No?" "Where is your accent from? Are you from Europe?" "I'm from Maine. The State." "Oh. You sound French. And you look French too. You're not French?" (confused look).

"Are you Filipino?" "No." "Oh, I just thought you were-- because Filipino people have dark dark hair and light skin-- like you." "Really? No I'm not. I'm from Maine." (I was under the impression that Filipino people were generally Asian looking). "But like, what country?" "Um, part of my family is from Croatia. My great-grandparents?"

I remember being miserable that summer. I felt very lonely. I didn't make any friends at camp. If one person had made a comment like that, it probably wouldn't have bothered me. In fact, the words they were saying themselves were not really insulting or upsetting. Sometimes I thought it was amusing. It was more the FEELING it created. The feeling of "other"ness-- the message "You don't belong here." Those comments were part of it-- but also with that was the way I was treated (or ignored). It was part of larger behavior-- behavior in which people didn't want to get to know me-- but were marginally interested in my differences.

The difference between my short stint at summer camp in Virginia and Anna's story is that I "escaped" after camp was over. I returned to Maine, were my origin was not subject to constant scrutiny. I had a place where I felt "regular"-- where I felt like a normal person doing normal stuff. I can't imagine the frustration and angst one must feel-- having this feeling of other thrust upon them for most (all?) of their life. My two weeks of being an "other" are an unpleasant memory-- but I feel like I can avoid being in such a situation again. I can imagine how frustrating it could be to have to face this every day.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Miscellany

Hello! I, alas, have not been posting everyday, but I have been taking pictures. This post will include various exciting and thrilling pictures from Delhi, in no particular order.

drum roll please....

Anoushka- the dirty dorm dog (stray) has taken a liking to me, much to Vivek's dismay (I named her, of course). She likes a good tummy rub, but I try to avoid the touching part... foot-tummy-rubs are loved as well.
Additional cuteness. Anybody want to adopt a young, cute, friendly dog? She is already spayed! :P
My sister could not believe that milk comes in plastic bags. So I got some photographic evidence, for her viewing pleasure.
I was shocked (and thrilled!) to discover that there is now offically a Cinnabon in Saket City Walk Mall in South Delhi. I know now that my mom can survive in India! :P I enjoyed a tastey cinnabon, and they do indeed taste just the same. Yum yum.
I enjoy talking pictures of subway signs from around the world. Here are some lovelies from the Delhi metro, which we have used a lot lately. It can be a bit crowded but is very nice. Many more lines are open then when I was last here.
We were able to go to the Delhi Book fair. Many different publishers and book sellers from around Delhi were there selling their wares.. I was able to get some fun books for myself and found a few Urdu storybooks for some of my kids.
दिल्ली पुस्तक मेला - Self explanatory... :P

Today I kheenched this picture of one of the many political posters adorning the J.N.U. campus.

video
Lastly, here is a video of Delhi traffic.. I thought it would be fun for those who have not been to India to get an idea of what it is like.

That's all for now--- more to come!