No reference to tupperware parties here. Yesterday I attended my first “kitchen party”. A Tanzanian tradition, its closest Western equivalent is the bridal shower but, this comparison is nowhere near adequate.
The name, I deduced, derives from the fact that it is at this occasion that the bride is presented with gifts that predominantly consist of kitchen utensils and appliances. An entire corner of the garden in which the party took place was dedicated to showcasing these, complete with refridgerator, stove, and table set to mimick a dining scene. I found particularly interesting the interpretation of the wedding gift registry concept. Guests were not presented with the details of things they could go off and buy and then gift-wrap – no pretense of intrigue and surprise here. Instead, weeks before the event, guests contributed what money they desired and the wedding committee then bought items the bride requested. So in fact, the kitchen party is an opportunity to show the guests how their money has been spent.
To me, all this is superfluous (although great for brides; give me a blender rather than a thong any day!) – the real draw of the kitchen party is the ‘teachings’. To my disappointment, I was pre-warned that this particular party would be tame, “modern” (aka conservative). It would not illustrate what I’d heard about kitchen parties where s
“specialists” in the area of how to treat/keep/satisfy your husband, in full uncensored glory, would share their wisdom with the crowd. Instead, each table was asked to write advice to the bride and/or ask questions to the designated experts. Thankfully, there were some interesting, non-conservative questions including ones about sex and “small houses” (i.e. mistresses). What really impressed me was our “teachers” progressive, feminist attitude (and note that they belong to my parent’s generation in a culture where several women accept a subservient role). Answers to questions about what to do if your man wants sex a certain way were refreshingly about sexual liberation and assertiveness. The answer to the question “should you wash his underwear?”, was an opportunity to plead to the older generations to encourage their sons to participate in “matters of the home”, sharing those duties equally and; to the younger generations to accept no less.
And we danced, from beginning to end, in the light and in the dark. To religious songs, to old school and new music, and to naughty taarab songs – showing off how well we could wine our waists. With 150 women, covering at least 3 generations, it was a true “girl power” session!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The body betrays the truth
Last week I learned something very scary – I actually have a physical limit as to how busy I can be. People have often commented, in various degrees of wonder, at how many things I’m involved in, how much I take advantage of happenings in this exciting city and how much work I’m capable of undertaking. To me, it’s not a case of a demonstration of capability but simply that I’m interested in so many different things and want to lap it all up. And so far, in my 26 years, it’s been relatively manageable. I am occasionally exhausted but, nothing that a quiet afternoon and some good sleep can’t take care of.
I went to a talk a few weeks ago where Alain de Botton talked about his new book: The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work. He made a suggestion about the Sabbath actually serving to prevent megalomania. By forcing those who observe it to stop – to cease all but the most basic and involuntary endeavour – the Sabbath acted as a reminder that we cannot do it all.
Being somebody who observes the weekend as an opportunity to do work (not the kind that pays my bills but that which nurtures my curiosity and my soul), my “Sabbath” came in a different form. Conscious, and concerned that I had been working above a sustainable level since January (and possibly before), and unable to fully communicate the seriousness of the implications of this to my colleagues, I woke up on Thursday morning, unable to get out of bed. Not the ‘I really don’t feel like going to work today’ inertia, but something that was a combination of a physical reaction and one that had to do with my will giving up on me. If ever there was a wake-up call that could not be delayed by snoozing, this is it.
Is it a question of balance?
Like many, I often feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day. In addition to keeping up with friends and family and nurturing those relationships (which at the moment too is a struggle), there is so much I want to do that isn’t within my job description and thus achievable during work. However, by the time I get home, after preparing food and unwinding, I find I have very little time to get stuck into exploring, learning, practicing, developing or attending to any of my interests or “extra-curricular” commitments. The frustration comes when I look at the bigger picture and add up how much of my life I will spend doing my job rather than doing my work (my “life’s work”). Yet, in my particular situation, there is such strong resonance between the two. The undertaking of one is quite directly beneficial to the other. But it’s like unrequited love – the potential is there but what’s lacking is the time to give both the attention each requires and the space to start forming and strengthening the inevitable links.
Like a fool, I can now admit, I have tried to force this time and space where there is none. The conclusion my body has drawn is that, it’s not possible. So, how is this work-life balance thing achieved? BusinessWeek took advantage of that great communication platform, Twitter, to collect suggestions for achieving work-life balance (I’ve interspersed screengrabs of the tweets from that article here).
Or is it a question of doing away with false barriers?
There seems to be some consensus that the separation itself, between “work” and “life”, may be the fundamental obstacle in finding balance between them. For me, work should be the reason you get up in the morning. Work should be something that creates meaning. For many, the ‘work’ they do in their jobs is furthest from bringing any kind of meaning to their lives! What if ‘work’ was not confined to the space you spend most of your waking hours in order that you may pay for shelter and food. This is not to say that you should be doing your job outside of ‘working hours’ but that the definition of work should be revisited. Work as our greater purpose and our jobs merely facilitating this. Some people have jobs doing what they love – doing their “life’s work” Some people do jobs that enable them to do what they love (by providing the necessary resources, usually money but also transferable training, skills and knowledge).
If you don’t like your life you can change it
I am often encouraged by the fact that flexible-working and working from home are more and more being embraced by business because I think it MIGHT be a step closer to helping us integrate the different tasks we carry out in our lives so that there is less of a distinct barrier between ‘work’ and ‘life’.
However, it’s very easy to carry the same obstacles from the office block to the home office. In some cases, people end up doing more work when working at home because they feel they need to prove to their managers that they’re not slacking. It seems to me then, that what needs to change is attitudes towards where and how ‘work’ is done. We need to do away with a culture where you feel guilty calling in sick when you’re bed-ridden by the flu. We need to do away with a culture that gives employees no time for personal development because of obsessions with meeting targets when in actuality, giving employees that time and space will yield greater creativity and improve their work.
With the current economic situation and a lot of people being forced out of work, I’ve witnessed a lot of positively life-changing stories. People no longer have the dream-inhibiting excuse of being too busy at or exhausted from work. They are forced to stare their life and dreams in the eye and take action. They have lost the luxury of inertia enabled by employment.
And those of us who managed to hold on to our jobs? Well, we’re having to cope with even more work than we had before. We’re perhaps accumulating even more excuses to stray from the path that will lead us closer to embracing our “life’s work”. The garnish is increased stress, unhappiness and resentment – but at least we have a job, right?
I’m not so sure that the latter is worth all that comes with it. And my body is pushing me to question that. I remember coming across a poster in the London underground, probably sometime last year. Amidst the throngs of zombie-like bodies on auto-pilot during rush hour stood this shining light simply stating: “If you don’t like your life you can change it”. It’s such an obvious fact, so simple yet, something that’s so easy to forget. So easy to challenge with poor reasoning that gets you out of having to face the clear truth.
(Artist: Mark Titchner)
I’m deciding to walk on the side of truth. The saga will continue …
I went to a talk a few weeks ago where Alain de Botton talked about his new book: The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work. He made a suggestion about the Sabbath actually serving to prevent megalomania. By forcing those who observe it to stop – to cease all but the most basic and involuntary endeavour – the Sabbath acted as a reminder that we cannot do it all.
Being somebody who observes the weekend as an opportunity to do work (not the kind that pays my bills but that which nurtures my curiosity and my soul), my “Sabbath” came in a different form. Conscious, and concerned that I had been working above a sustainable level since January (and possibly before), and unable to fully communicate the seriousness of the implications of this to my colleagues, I woke up on Thursday morning, unable to get out of bed. Not the ‘I really don’t feel like going to work today’ inertia, but something that was a combination of a physical reaction and one that had to do with my will giving up on me. If ever there was a wake-up call that could not be delayed by snoozing, this is it.
Is it a question of balance?
Like many, I often feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day. In addition to keeping up with friends and family and nurturing those relationships (which at the moment too is a struggle), there is so much I want to do that isn’t within my job description and thus achievable during work. However, by the time I get home, after preparing food and unwinding, I find I have very little time to get stuck into exploring, learning, practicing, developing or attending to any of my interests or “extra-curricular” commitments. The frustration comes when I look at the bigger picture and add up how much of my life I will spend doing my job rather than doing my work (my “life’s work”). Yet, in my particular situation, there is such strong resonance between the two. The undertaking of one is quite directly beneficial to the other. But it’s like unrequited love – the potential is there but what’s lacking is the time to give both the attention each requires and the space to start forming and strengthening the inevitable links.
Like a fool, I can now admit, I have tried to force this time and space where there is none. The conclusion my body has drawn is that, it’s not possible. So, how is this work-life balance thing achieved? BusinessWeek took advantage of that great communication platform, Twitter, to collect suggestions for achieving work-life balance (I’ve interspersed screengrabs of the tweets from that article here).
Or is it a question of doing away with false barriers?
There seems to be some consensus that the separation itself, between “work” and “life”, may be the fundamental obstacle in finding balance between them. For me, work should be the reason you get up in the morning. Work should be something that creates meaning. For many, the ‘work’ they do in their jobs is furthest from bringing any kind of meaning to their lives! What if ‘work’ was not confined to the space you spend most of your waking hours in order that you may pay for shelter and food. This is not to say that you should be doing your job outside of ‘working hours’ but that the definition of work should be revisited. Work as our greater purpose and our jobs merely facilitating this. Some people have jobs doing what they love – doing their “life’s work” Some people do jobs that enable them to do what they love (by providing the necessary resources, usually money but also transferable training, skills and knowledge).
If you don’t like your life you can change it
I am often encouraged by the fact that flexible-working and working from home are more and more being embraced by business because I think it MIGHT be a step closer to helping us integrate the different tasks we carry out in our lives so that there is less of a distinct barrier between ‘work’ and ‘life’.
However, it’s very easy to carry the same obstacles from the office block to the home office. In some cases, people end up doing more work when working at home because they feel they need to prove to their managers that they’re not slacking. It seems to me then, that what needs to change is attitudes towards where and how ‘work’ is done. We need to do away with a culture where you feel guilty calling in sick when you’re bed-ridden by the flu. We need to do away with a culture that gives employees no time for personal development because of obsessions with meeting targets when in actuality, giving employees that time and space will yield greater creativity and improve their work.
With the current economic situation and a lot of people being forced out of work, I’ve witnessed a lot of positively life-changing stories. People no longer have the dream-inhibiting excuse of being too busy at or exhausted from work. They are forced to stare their life and dreams in the eye and take action. They have lost the luxury of inertia enabled by employment.
And those of us who managed to hold on to our jobs? Well, we’re having to cope with even more work than we had before. We’re perhaps accumulating even more excuses to stray from the path that will lead us closer to embracing our “life’s work”. The garnish is increased stress, unhappiness and resentment – but at least we have a job, right?
I’m not so sure that the latter is worth all that comes with it. And my body is pushing me to question that. I remember coming across a poster in the London underground, probably sometime last year. Amidst the throngs of zombie-like bodies on auto-pilot during rush hour stood this shining light simply stating: “If you don’t like your life you can change it”. It’s such an obvious fact, so simple yet, something that’s so easy to forget. So easy to challenge with poor reasoning that gets you out of having to face the clear truth.
(Artist: Mark Titchner)
I’m deciding to walk on the side of truth. The saga will continue …
Friday, April 10, 2009
Work and the democratisation of art
Tags:
art
Connecting art, class, work and happiness
(image courtesy of Indigo Arts Gallery)
"I cannot ever forget, nor should I, that I come from a blue collar, in fact in some cases no collar, background. By no collar, I mean slaves. Craft and handiwork were a form of communication for slaves, and are also traditionally African: within those communities there were no artistic echelons. Everybody was engaged in some kind of art activity, whether they were musicians, singers, dancers or visual artists, as a normal aspect of their everyday life. Artists per se were not separated from the rest of their community. I didn't want to forget my heritage, I wanted to extend it. My mother's grandfather was a basket maker and a blacksmith; he made brooms and sweet grass baskets. Both of my grandmothers were quilt makers. My father's father was a woodworker who made decorated canoes. I'm very specifically proletariat in the sense that I know that I'm engaged in this same activity. You have to consistently look at what I do and challenge your own ideas about what is 'visual' art and what is 'fine' art. I think that there is something strange about the idea that it's not as aesthetically profound for someone to make a cup as it is for someone to make a painting of a cup."
— Joyce Scott, artist
Earlier this week I went to hear Alain de Botton talk about his new book, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work (more about that later). Afterwards, in the bathroom, I overheard an intriguing snippet of a conversation between two, relatively young girls: "…condescending middle class conversations…". It's quite mysterious – were they referring to the Q&A with the author? Judging purely from observation, the auditorium did seem to have been filled with a middle-class, mostly caucasian, Guardian-reader audience. And indeed a lot of the conversation was about the shift from work being regarded as punishment to a point where for people to do their best work, they often need to take some level of enjoyment from it. This idea of doing work you love, is often seen as a luxury for the privileged – the poor are seen to prioritise feeding their families, facilitated by any work necessary.
However, I'd like to challenge this assumption and go back to Joyce Scott's point. To go back and, in this instance, put artistic endeavour back into the picture of the everyday (and design is a part of that). People who are not necessarily engaged in explicitly "artistic work", still incorporate art and/or design in their daily practice – through how they eat, how they entertain themselves and others, how they interact, what they wear, their working environments. I mean, look at the barber shops and hair salons in deprived African neighbourhoods – these are sites of work! And love is often visible in the products of blue collar work – often even more conspicuous than in the products of white collar work!
So maybe the middle class white collar elk has got it all wrong and their (our?) empathy has been distorted by a certain megalomania. Does the magic – and the reason why so many white collar workers seem to be unhappy with their jobs – lie in the fact that blue collar work tends to be rooted in the present moment? Is the blue collar's attention to the everyday, as opposed to an automatic dismissal of it because of its perceived mundaneness and triviality, what makes her/his everyday richer (and happier)?
(image courtesy of Indigo Arts Gallery)
"I cannot ever forget, nor should I, that I come from a blue collar, in fact in some cases no collar, background. By no collar, I mean slaves. Craft and handiwork were a form of communication for slaves, and are also traditionally African: within those communities there were no artistic echelons. Everybody was engaged in some kind of art activity, whether they were musicians, singers, dancers or visual artists, as a normal aspect of their everyday life. Artists per se were not separated from the rest of their community. I didn't want to forget my heritage, I wanted to extend it. My mother's grandfather was a basket maker and a blacksmith; he made brooms and sweet grass baskets. Both of my grandmothers were quilt makers. My father's father was a woodworker who made decorated canoes. I'm very specifically proletariat in the sense that I know that I'm engaged in this same activity. You have to consistently look at what I do and challenge your own ideas about what is 'visual' art and what is 'fine' art. I think that there is something strange about the idea that it's not as aesthetically profound for someone to make a cup as it is for someone to make a painting of a cup."
— Joyce Scott, artist
Earlier this week I went to hear Alain de Botton talk about his new book, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work (more about that later). Afterwards, in the bathroom, I overheard an intriguing snippet of a conversation between two, relatively young girls: "…condescending middle class conversations…". It's quite mysterious – were they referring to the Q&A with the author? Judging purely from observation, the auditorium did seem to have been filled with a middle-class, mostly caucasian, Guardian-reader audience. And indeed a lot of the conversation was about the shift from work being regarded as punishment to a point where for people to do their best work, they often need to take some level of enjoyment from it. This idea of doing work you love, is often seen as a luxury for the privileged – the poor are seen to prioritise feeding their families, facilitated by any work necessary.
However, I'd like to challenge this assumption and go back to Joyce Scott's point. To go back and, in this instance, put artistic endeavour back into the picture of the everyday (and design is a part of that). People who are not necessarily engaged in explicitly "artistic work", still incorporate art and/or design in their daily practice – through how they eat, how they entertain themselves and others, how they interact, what they wear, their working environments. I mean, look at the barber shops and hair salons in deprived African neighbourhoods – these are sites of work! And love is often visible in the products of blue collar work – often even more conspicuous than in the products of white collar work!
So maybe the middle class white collar elk has got it all wrong and their (our?) empathy has been distorted by a certain megalomania. Does the magic – and the reason why so many white collar workers seem to be unhappy with their jobs – lie in the fact that blue collar work tends to be rooted in the present moment? Is the blue collar's attention to the everyday, as opposed to an automatic dismissal of it because of its perceived mundaneness and triviality, what makes her/his everyday richer (and happier)?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
On Stupid weekends and winning
This weekend, The Age Of Stupid will be screened at theatres across the UK, posing a crucial question to moviegoers: “why didn’t we save ourselves?” I’m not going to delve into what the film is about because, and Mayor Ken agrees, it’s a film that should be compulsory viewing for all 6.7 billion of us! But I will ask: why aren’t we saving ourselves? Is it that we don’t believe we are worth saving?
It’s an interesting time of resonance. Earlier this week, the Affluenza exhibition opened, a project that looks at how consumer values are affecting our emotional health. Consumerism, which as suggested in The Age of Stupid, is the most successful movement in the ranks with democracy and religion. We buy this and that to look ‘better’ and feel ‘better’; we aspire to be like this and that person because they are ‘better’ and we settle for the acquisition of the trappings that constitute their lifestyle. Our consumption facilitates carbon emissions, contributing to our superficial sense of contentment and to climate change!
What if we didn’t look outside ourselves?
What if we valued ourselves enough so that we valued each other? What if by doing so we took away the power of people who play on our differences? Differences that when articulated, amplified and embellished are often the basis of conflict. Conflict that is exacerbated by climate change with devastating results.
Take our beautiful continent Africa. Rare in that it contains all that humankind could want: oil, minerals, fertile land etc. Yet present: gross underdevelopment, famine, disease and war. There is little need for me to shout about obvious connections. The continent’s beauty derives from its diversity and yet, this same diversity is manipulated to exploit and encourage blindness, silence and complicity. Complicity on all sides, people on all sides essentially not valuing themselves and what they have and own.
What if we valued ourselves enough so that we valued the environment? What if we did not bite the earth that feeds? Surely if we valued ourselves enough, we would not want to live in an environmentally deteriorating or devastated world? What if we didn’t choose to hide behind self-satisfaction and claims that our backyards were taken care of and that it was those other places that would suffer? Ultimately, all of us, around the world, are connected through the products we buy and sell, the places we visit, the decisions we make and the actions we take and so on. Despite distance and circumstance, there are often way fewer than six degrees of separation. If we’re not feeling the negative impacts today, we are not exempt, merely asleep.
A, b, c, none of the above
All of this is irrelevant, unsubstantiated and ludicrous! Life continues as normal. We’re all going to die eventually anyway so I might as well enjoy myself as much as I can.
Shit! This is serious. I would like to do something but what can I do? Can anything I do make a difference? Probably not. I better enjoy myself as much as I can and numb the guilt feelings.
Shit. This is serious. I need to find out what I can do to make a difference so that I can really enjoy myself and feel good about doing so.
Could we be winning?
…And improve my quality of life in the process! Many complain about the breakdown of society, of family values, of ‘tradition’. Of people becoming more selfish and individualistic and losing a sense of the greater good and of community. Across history, common adversaries have united the most hostile of folk. Here is a common enemy for us to fight and in the act of doing so, possibly rebuild our fragmented societies and nations.
Indeed, what if we didn’t look outside ourselves, and instead practiced a constructive selfishness? What if we undertook every activity with a view towards truly increasing our individual wellbeing? Not a vision of wellbeing that we’d bought or been co-opted into but one that we honestly delineated for ourselves. An introspective view that would allow a clearer lens for looking out!
One of my uncles has a favourite greeting that takes the place of the rather vague and uninterested “how are you?” He asks, “Are you winning?” Interpret as you will but I see it as a great prompt to focus on a more aspirational way of looking at your life. No more numbness and “fine” – instead: drive and resolution. Ultimately: affirmation!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Tip: Human Rights Watch International Film Festival, London
Tags:
film,
human rights
Human Rights Watch gives voice to the oppressed by bringing international attention to violations of thteir rights so what better way to solicit this attention than through that ever-powerful and -pervasive medium – film!
The 13th Human Rights Watch International Film Festival began yesterday in London and runs until the 27th of March. Including a truly international selection of stories covering everything from immigration and the often treacherous search for a home, to the potency of women organising to liberate their country from civil war; from indigenous people battling one of fthe world's largest oil producers, to friendships tested by border lines.
Tip: Affluenza exhibition begins in London
Tags:
art,
consumption,
emotional wellbeing
What do consumer values and emotional wellbeing have in common?
The Affluenza exhibition begins in London today (in brief).
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
It's just the women
International Women’s Day (IWD) was this past Sunday (8th March). I know I’ve been extremely busy lately but I don’t believe I live in that inacessible a hole as to not have come across any IWD communications! Correction: the hints I did receive were due to a subscription to a mailing list on HIV/AIDS and following Reuters Women on twitter. Why is it that a day that is relevant to HALF of the world’s population, should not have had more widespread coverage? Why weren’t there events taking place in every locality, making it impossible to ignore? One would have even expected the capitalist engine to be running on full blast, promoting this or that consumable in the same way that Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and Christmas encourage. Is the attention given to IWD, symbolic of the vast amount of progress yet to be made in actualising gender equality?
Here are a few snippets and food for thought! Please share voices from around the world!
“Feminists across Europe demand a different approach than patch it up and go on with “business-as-usual.” A gendered analysis of our economies as based on both productive and reproductive work, and how this can and must be coupled with issues of equality, should together with sustainable development perspectives become center stage at a moment where we look for new models for the financial and economic systems.”
Brigitte Triems – president of the European Women’s Lobby
Check out their campaign: 50/50: No Modern European Democracy Without Gender Equality
**
“I believe that International Women’s Day is an important reminder of the work that still needs to be done and it is certainly a powerful moment of solidarity across time and space … I want to reclaim the day. Reclaim it back from the hands of empty ritual and rhetoric and from those that treat it like another public relations opportunity.
As tax payers in the U.S. are aghast at upwards of $700 billion dollars going to “bail out” the financial system, little is said of the fact that this figure is also the approximate annual military budget of the U.S. Global military spending currently exceeds $1,204 billion dollars annually at 2006 prices. The combined budgets of the United Nations entities working on women’s issues amounts to approximately 0.005 percent of that.
The World Bank estimates the cost of interventions to promote gender equality under Millennium Development Goal 3 (universal access to education) to be $7-$13 per capita. The world’s military expenditure in 2006? $184 per capita. This is the financial crisis. That investing in weapons and war and creating human insecurity is prioritized over investing in peace, development and gender equality. This is what we should be questioning and working to change as we stand together on International Women’s Day. And if the governments and corporations of the world really want to show their support for this day, then ending militarism would be a good place to start.”
Sam Cook – director of the PeaceWomen Project
**
“In Christian theology, it is axiomatic that God is neither male nor female. Yet persistently over history God has been normalised as male, and men have therefore been seen as closer to God than women.”
Reverend Dr. Miranda Threlfall-Holmes
(Image by Miranda Bergman)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Change is Beautiful
I chanced upon a 3 minute Wonder on Channel 4 the other night.
Lemn Sissay (and friends) delivers music, poetry, spoken word, commentary on climate change, capitalism, global inequity, greed, chaos theory, mysticism, Darwin – it’s got something for everybody (and all in 3 mins!)
Also coming out soon is the film "Age of Stupid" – I'm telling everybody I know to go see it if it's the last film they see this year! It should be compulsory viewing for all … and the filmmakers are making it very difficult for it not to be seen. The "People's Premiere" is planned for the launch date on 15th March – a "100% eco-friendly" tented screening extravaganza, bang in Leicester Square, London. And if you can't get to that or the several other screenings across the UK, it will be available for all to watch online.
One thing that comes strongly across in these films, short and long, is that we have agency. Of course, there are plenty of excuses to be made … Sometimes I truly wonder why we human beings can appreciate and create such beauty on the one hand, and totally oppose it through our actions on the other. And we've all been quilty at some time! Age of Stupid illustrates these contradictions so well (it's half fiction/prediction and half documentary).
I think it's wonderful that an issue as urgent as climate change, that affects all of us so directly (though we may realise this or not), finds such rich creative expression. If artists are the custodians of a society's consciousness, surely their works canwake us and inspire us to wonder and to dream? And in being reminded to dream, will we not want to keep the dreaming plane alive for ourselves and others?
It's affirming what I passionately believe to be true: the arts are an incredibly powerful conduit for positive change. I see these examples as explicitly addressing climate change in a way that is entertaining, accessible and inclusive; potentially changing our perceptions of change away from something that's a negative disruption to something that might actually improve our lives; and slightly more implicitly, rousing us to change for good.
Lemn Sissay (and friends) delivers music, poetry, spoken word, commentary on climate change, capitalism, global inequity, greed, chaos theory, mysticism, Darwin – it’s got something for everybody (and all in 3 mins!)
Also coming out soon is the film "Age of Stupid" – I'm telling everybody I know to go see it if it's the last film they see this year! It should be compulsory viewing for all … and the filmmakers are making it very difficult for it not to be seen. The "People's Premiere" is planned for the launch date on 15th March – a "100% eco-friendly" tented screening extravaganza, bang in Leicester Square, London. And if you can't get to that or the several other screenings across the UK, it will be available for all to watch online.
One thing that comes strongly across in these films, short and long, is that we have agency. Of course, there are plenty of excuses to be made … Sometimes I truly wonder why we human beings can appreciate and create such beauty on the one hand, and totally oppose it through our actions on the other. And we've all been quilty at some time! Age of Stupid illustrates these contradictions so well (it's half fiction/prediction and half documentary).
I think it's wonderful that an issue as urgent as climate change, that affects all of us so directly (though we may realise this or not), finds such rich creative expression. If artists are the custodians of a society's consciousness, surely their works canwake us and inspire us to wonder and to dream? And in being reminded to dream, will we not want to keep the dreaming plane alive for ourselves and others?
It's affirming what I passionately believe to be true: the arts are an incredibly powerful conduit for positive change. I see these examples as explicitly addressing climate change in a way that is entertaining, accessible and inclusive; potentially changing our perceptions of change away from something that's a negative disruption to something that might actually improve our lives; and slightly more implicitly, rousing us to change for good.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Designer Rant: The Mac doesn’t make the (wo)man
In one of my lives I am a designer. I like to be as vague as that because it is too easy for people to package you into small compartments of their understanding and never again recognise that as a human being, you are dynamic and multi-faceted. I’m a designer. I use design thinking to create solutions, usually (but not always), of the communications variety.
What is design thinking? There are many views and conversations. Victor Lombardi’s take is quite perfectly on point.
Could it be that design thinking is really just common sense thinking? What seems to make the distinction however is that designers have particular skills to augment their thinking. In my specific training and experience, this has included: drawing, light and colour theory, three-dimensional design, visual communications, graphic design, illustration, painting, photography, advertising art direction, copywriting, art history, design history, printmaking and branding (CV available upon request!). And yet at work, sitting behind a “big, shiny Mac”, people seem to see the machine and my ability as inseparable. Missing the fact that the machine is merely a tool for expression, of which there are several. And I’ve only listed the tangible ones. In addition to these, every designer draws inspiration and influence from their individual lives. This means that every single designer’s eclectic repertoire is necessarily unique.
We designers are not people who do something, we are something. The distinction between these two might not be immediately apparent but it is very important to me. A crude example: I am not defined by the computer programmes that I know how to use; using them does not fully constitute my being a designer. Take me away from a computer and I am still a designer. Even before computers, there existed designers and no, they didn’t just draw pretty pictures! Hmmm, I think my next rant just might be entitled, “Death to the ‘Pretty Picture’”…
What is design thinking? There are many views and conversations. Victor Lombardi’s take is quite perfectly on point.
Could it be that design thinking is really just common sense thinking? What seems to make the distinction however is that designers have particular skills to augment their thinking. In my specific training and experience, this has included: drawing, light and colour theory, three-dimensional design, visual communications, graphic design, illustration, painting, photography, advertising art direction, copywriting, art history, design history, printmaking and branding (CV available upon request!). And yet at work, sitting behind a “big, shiny Mac”, people seem to see the machine and my ability as inseparable. Missing the fact that the machine is merely a tool for expression, of which there are several. And I’ve only listed the tangible ones. In addition to these, every designer draws inspiration and influence from their individual lives. This means that every single designer’s eclectic repertoire is necessarily unique.
We designers are not people who do something, we are something. The distinction between these two might not be immediately apparent but it is very important to me. A crude example: I am not defined by the computer programmes that I know how to use; using them does not fully constitute my being a designer. Take me away from a computer and I am still a designer. Even before computers, there existed designers and no, they didn’t just draw pretty pictures! Hmmm, I think my next rant just might be entitled, “Death to the ‘Pretty Picture’”…
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Between Freedom and its Promise
(Between London and Plymouth, 2008)
I saw a Baobab
In the English countryside
Illuminated
Stood there in setting sun
Unabashedly out of place
Defiant
I passed a field of
Yachts anchored to mud with the
Promise of journeys
I passed an outcrop
Of feisty red rock covered
With a creeping green
Encroaching, though
Beautiful, colonising that
Soldier from the earth
And into the blanket of darkness
Varied sounds,
Tunneled to silence.
But then the sea stretched
Out to my left and for a moment
Everything changed…
Stretching out as far
As I could see! I thought then
I too can be free
I saw a Baobab
In the English countryside
Illuminated
Stood there in setting sun
Unabashedly out of place
Defiant
I passed a field of
Yachts anchored to mud with the
Promise of journeys
I passed an outcrop
Of feisty red rock covered
With a creeping green
Encroaching, though
Beautiful, colonising that
Soldier from the earth
And into the blanket of darkness
Varied sounds,
Tunneled to silence.
But then the sea stretched
Out to my left and for a moment
Everything changed…
Stretching out as far
As I could see! I thought then
I too can be free
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Why is Untouched Little Loved?
I gaze upon forest,
Thick and dense as my natural hair,
And wonder:
What richness lies there?
Copyright Lulu Kitololo
Thick and dense as my natural hair,
And wonder:
What richness lies there?
Copyright Lulu Kitololo
Monday, April 28, 2008
If Sisterhood is Imperative…
Movements often peter out when their goal is seen to be achieved. Then there are those movements that die prematurely or go into an indefinite hibernation long before serious gains are made. Is it frustration and fatigue? Is it an ingenuous illusion of success?
When I learned of the term “feminism”, it seemed to me a relic from the past rather than an ideology that was relevant to my life. Indeed there are critiques of feminism that question its relevance to millions of women . Do movements deteriorate because they fail to engage all of those who they claim to represent?
Or is it something as simple as an issue of language? Call it “feminism” and I see as something dated and distant and riddled with a questionable manner and intent. Consider it instead as “sisterhood” and it becomes a fact of life. It ceases to be a movement and becomes, as breathing is, an extension of being.
Sisterhood
Defined as… the feeling of kinship with and closeness to a group of women or ALL WOMEN
Congenial relationship or companionship among women; mutual female esteem, concern, support, etc.
An association, society, or community of women linked by a common interest, religion, or trade…
“Linked by a common interest” – like being a woman? Like often being made to feel like some man’s property? It always strikes me that in the¬ Swahili language, women are married and men marry. Men who are seen to be dictated by their wives are always taunted – is it you who married her or she who married you! Such banter is usually harmless jest but, I have always found it difficult to disregard the oppressive connotations of the concept.
On one hand there are debates with mothers. Mothers wondering why Mrs. So-and-So hasn’t yet had children. The likes of me suggesting that maybe she doesn’t want children. Mothers protesting, of course she wants children! That is what is expected of women – that is their defining role. On the other hand, some mothers insist that their daughters never get married for the sake of it and that they take advantage of all the opportunities the mothers didn’t have.
My mother sometimes laments her youth where her father invested more in the education of his sons because his daughters would no doubt get married and have husbands to provide for them, thus making the necessity for things like university degrees irrelevant. Forget about the fact that women can have careers! Ironically, these same daughters would in later life turn out to show more concern (in heart and in action) over their parent’s welfare. I think my grandfather did come to appreciate the prejudice of his ways. I remember sitting in his room when I was much younger – listening to him proudly telling me stories of his Harvard days and encouraging me to read hard and do well so that I too could one day grace the halls of that revered institution.
And all this talk was successful – I grew up believing myself free of the limits that my mothers were expected to silently accept. But I am often reminded that this is still not the norm, regardless of generation. While in Tanzania a recent while ago, a vociferous cousin of mine took it upon herself to criticize my every action as if to demonstrate (implicitly and explicitly) my lack of “womanly” domestic skills. I could have chosen to ‘behave’ in the ‘proper’ way but my stubbornness would not let me be an accomplice to my own suppression. When I was younger, my resistance was more vocal but easier to dismiss by virtue of my age! Now I am dismissed as having been influenced by foreign values and having lost touch with the way things are done. It makes me wonder why, when there is solidarity on so many levels, there are still narrow avenues where sisterhood ceases to breathe? And I wonder, can there be true solidarity before consciousness?
“Women need other women.
Men need men too but it’s not the same.”
— my friend’s high school teacher who first got her thinking about feminism.
What opportunities are there for solidarity as a catalyst to greater consciousness, collective consciousness as well as personal? Women throughout history and across geographies have found ways, often through their everyday activities and obligations, to carve out spaces for some sisterhood solidarity. They have managed, through this congregation, to taste a morsel of freedom within their servings of captivity. Take for example the ‘Quilt Code’ in 19th century North America where slave women allegedly used quilt designs to send messages about when and how to escape to freedom. Even if these stories are more legend than truth, quilting has still served to build, reassemble, restore and express. Discussing these quilts, Susan Bernick asserts that “women’s art forms can be experienced as a source of strength, joy, expression and as an affirmative badge of pride.”
Yet the struggle continues to maintain these spaces – these minutes of liberation. I am reminded of a story (legend?) I was told about some NGO activity in a village somewhere in the less economically developed world. The women in this village would walk miles everyday to go and fetch water. The NGO workers thus decided that what the village needed a well but once built were confused as to why the women were unhappy with it! They came to find, when they finally actually communicated with the women, that the women’s daily walks had been their only opportunities for release (from their husbands and domestic duties) and communion with each other. Now that the well was at their doorsteps, they no longer had an excuse to get away! The NGO workers had believed they were doing the women a favour but had not taken a moment to actually consult with the women on their needs.
So let’s talk about women’s solutions to women’s problems.
What if sisterhood was imperative?
If sisterhood were imperative, there would be greater unity among oppressed and disadvantaged people because cutting across their differences would be the common experience of being a woman and all the implications of this in our still male-dominated world. If sisterhood were mandatory this status quo would be interrogated in every second of every day. If sisterhood was compulsory, we would think before slanderous speech about each other – think about why it is so easy to do this, think about WHY we do it and come up with an alternative constructive language. If sisterhood were compulsory, we would transcend other people’s images of ourselves.
If sisterhood was the norm, men wouldn’t flinch and feel uncomfortable or threatened when reading this, or think it that has nothing to do with them.
If sisterhood were imperative we would guide each other to our self-actualisation.
Imperative for what?! Imperative for what?!
Have you (and here I’m talking exclusively to the women) ever been in the company of amazing, intelligent, funny, positive women and felt the warmth of utter resonance? Have you come to such a situation with preconceived notions, with your guard up just WAITING for someone to act in the less-than-positive way that you expect? … and it never happens? Instead, you find yourself getting to know people for who they truly are and discover that they are truly beautiful and interesting and capable of enriching your life. Have you ever ran to your sisters for solace when you thought there was nobody who could understand you or what you were going through. Have you ever communicated the world to your sister through a simple glance and when she wrapped her arms around you the silent dialogue was whole? I COULD get even more sentimental than this (and what would be the matter?). I see it quite simply:
If sisterhood IS, then sisterhood is imperative.
_____
*Thanks to the sisters who shared their experiences and knowledge with me ☺
Other sisterly things…
For Coloured Girls who have Considered Suicide when the Rainbow is Enuf: a great play (‘choreopoem’ is what author Ntozake Shange calls it) I recently read that reinforces just how common many of our experiences as women actually are.
The L Word: a great TV series where men only get the occasional supporting role and as a result you don’t really think about them that much. A show that opens up a world of opportunities (in many ways)!!!
In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens – Womanist Prose: a thinking collection of essays by Alice Walker.
When I learned of the term “feminism”, it seemed to me a relic from the past rather than an ideology that was relevant to my life. Indeed there are critiques of feminism that question its relevance to millions of women . Do movements deteriorate because they fail to engage all of those who they claim to represent?
Or is it something as simple as an issue of language? Call it “feminism” and I see as something dated and distant and riddled with a questionable manner and intent. Consider it instead as “sisterhood” and it becomes a fact of life. It ceases to be a movement and becomes, as breathing is, an extension of being.
Sisterhood
Defined as… the feeling of kinship with and closeness to a group of women or ALL WOMEN
Congenial relationship or companionship among women; mutual female esteem, concern, support, etc.
An association, society, or community of women linked by a common interest, religion, or trade…
“Linked by a common interest” – like being a woman? Like often being made to feel like some man’s property? It always strikes me that in the¬ Swahili language, women are married and men marry. Men who are seen to be dictated by their wives are always taunted – is it you who married her or she who married you! Such banter is usually harmless jest but, I have always found it difficult to disregard the oppressive connotations of the concept.
On one hand there are debates with mothers. Mothers wondering why Mrs. So-and-So hasn’t yet had children. The likes of me suggesting that maybe she doesn’t want children. Mothers protesting, of course she wants children! That is what is expected of women – that is their defining role. On the other hand, some mothers insist that their daughters never get married for the sake of it and that they take advantage of all the opportunities the mothers didn’t have.
My mother sometimes laments her youth where her father invested more in the education of his sons because his daughters would no doubt get married and have husbands to provide for them, thus making the necessity for things like university degrees irrelevant. Forget about the fact that women can have careers! Ironically, these same daughters would in later life turn out to show more concern (in heart and in action) over their parent’s welfare. I think my grandfather did come to appreciate the prejudice of his ways. I remember sitting in his room when I was much younger – listening to him proudly telling me stories of his Harvard days and encouraging me to read hard and do well so that I too could one day grace the halls of that revered institution.
And all this talk was successful – I grew up believing myself free of the limits that my mothers were expected to silently accept. But I am often reminded that this is still not the norm, regardless of generation. While in Tanzania a recent while ago, a vociferous cousin of mine took it upon herself to criticize my every action as if to demonstrate (implicitly and explicitly) my lack of “womanly” domestic skills. I could have chosen to ‘behave’ in the ‘proper’ way but my stubbornness would not let me be an accomplice to my own suppression. When I was younger, my resistance was more vocal but easier to dismiss by virtue of my age! Now I am dismissed as having been influenced by foreign values and having lost touch with the way things are done. It makes me wonder why, when there is solidarity on so many levels, there are still narrow avenues where sisterhood ceases to breathe? And I wonder, can there be true solidarity before consciousness?
“Women need other women.
Men need men too but it’s not the same.”
— my friend’s high school teacher who first got her thinking about feminism.
What opportunities are there for solidarity as a catalyst to greater consciousness, collective consciousness as well as personal? Women throughout history and across geographies have found ways, often through their everyday activities and obligations, to carve out spaces for some sisterhood solidarity. They have managed, through this congregation, to taste a morsel of freedom within their servings of captivity. Take for example the ‘Quilt Code’ in 19th century North America where slave women allegedly used quilt designs to send messages about when and how to escape to freedom. Even if these stories are more legend than truth, quilting has still served to build, reassemble, restore and express. Discussing these quilts, Susan Bernick asserts that “women’s art forms can be experienced as a source of strength, joy, expression and as an affirmative badge of pride.”
Yet the struggle continues to maintain these spaces – these minutes of liberation. I am reminded of a story (legend?) I was told about some NGO activity in a village somewhere in the less economically developed world. The women in this village would walk miles everyday to go and fetch water. The NGO workers thus decided that what the village needed a well but once built were confused as to why the women were unhappy with it! They came to find, when they finally actually communicated with the women, that the women’s daily walks had been their only opportunities for release (from their husbands and domestic duties) and communion with each other. Now that the well was at their doorsteps, they no longer had an excuse to get away! The NGO workers had believed they were doing the women a favour but had not taken a moment to actually consult with the women on their needs.
So let’s talk about women’s solutions to women’s problems.
What if sisterhood was imperative?
If sisterhood were imperative, there would be greater unity among oppressed and disadvantaged people because cutting across their differences would be the common experience of being a woman and all the implications of this in our still male-dominated world. If sisterhood were mandatory this status quo would be interrogated in every second of every day. If sisterhood was compulsory, we would think before slanderous speech about each other – think about why it is so easy to do this, think about WHY we do it and come up with an alternative constructive language. If sisterhood were compulsory, we would transcend other people’s images of ourselves.
If sisterhood was the norm, men wouldn’t flinch and feel uncomfortable or threatened when reading this, or think it that has nothing to do with them.
If sisterhood were imperative we would guide each other to our self-actualisation.
Imperative for what?! Imperative for what?!
Have you (and here I’m talking exclusively to the women) ever been in the company of amazing, intelligent, funny, positive women and felt the warmth of utter resonance? Have you come to such a situation with preconceived notions, with your guard up just WAITING for someone to act in the less-than-positive way that you expect? … and it never happens? Instead, you find yourself getting to know people for who they truly are and discover that they are truly beautiful and interesting and capable of enriching your life. Have you ever ran to your sisters for solace when you thought there was nobody who could understand you or what you were going through. Have you ever communicated the world to your sister through a simple glance and when she wrapped her arms around you the silent dialogue was whole? I COULD get even more sentimental than this (and what would be the matter?). I see it quite simply:
If sisterhood IS, then sisterhood is imperative.
_____
*Thanks to the sisters who shared their experiences and knowledge with me ☺
Other sisterly things…
For Coloured Girls who have Considered Suicide when the Rainbow is Enuf: a great play (‘choreopoem’ is what author Ntozake Shange calls it) I recently read that reinforces just how common many of our experiences as women actually are.
The L Word: a great TV series where men only get the occasional supporting role and as a result you don’t really think about them that much. A show that opens up a world of opportunities (in many ways)!!!
In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens – Womanist Prose: a thinking collection of essays by Alice Walker.
Monday, April 14, 2008
People want the Earth but they Don’t Care to Feel It
He drew a circle around my feet
On the concrete with a
Piece of chalk
Thus marking the shape of his
Crime
I moved in and out of
His visibility
Remaining still, out of reach
And in the palm of his
Dreams
And then one day,
He didn’t see me dancing.
My pedestal
Was made of air!
When I tasted the earth
I found that it
– Was sweet
And gritty
– Moistened my mouth
And chipped away at my teeth
And the soil made way for
Me
Welcomed
Me
In its terminal embrace
Readjusting contours
Unchanging composition
Pushing
Me
Up
Even as I
Sank
He wants the earth
But he doesn’t care to
Feel it
Copyright Lulu Kitololo
On the concrete with a
Piece of chalk
Thus marking the shape of his
Crime
I moved in and out of
His visibility
Remaining still, out of reach
And in the palm of his
Dreams
And then one day,
He didn’t see me dancing.
My pedestal
Was made of air!
When I tasted the earth
I found that it
– Was sweet
And gritty
– Moistened my mouth
And chipped away at my teeth
And the soil made way for
Me
Welcomed
Me
In its terminal embrace
Readjusting contours
Unchanging composition
Pushing
Me
Up
Even as I
Sank
He wants the earth
But he doesn’t care to
Feel it
Copyright Lulu Kitololo
Monday, April 07, 2008
A Necessary Dose of Affirmation
I recently returned from a glorious two weeks in my mother’s land – Tanzania. The good-feeling that filled me began as a drop in a petri dish – slowly but determinedly it expanded to meet the full circumference of my being.
I cannot think of a place where I have felt so much love – both from those who “should” as well as the mutual recognition, with absolute strangers, of a common divinity. How else do you explain Dunga, the trader at the fish market in Dar es Salaam, who insisted on devoting over an hour of his day to show my friend and I all the fascinating fruits of the sea? The skeptic in me kept wondering how many shillings he’d demand in return but I realized my own deplorable (in my own opinion) capitalist configuration: when offered, he declined. The abundance of true brothersisterhood is something that warmed me yet worried me too for its conspicuous presence, in my perception, alerted me of its absence in my everyday life in the UK.
“If your granny’s your nanny, should she get paid?” the presenters on a TV breakfast show asked the other day. I thought back to childhood Decembers spent in Tanzania. The children of all my 6 aunts and uncles in my grandparents home – playing in the crisp clear stream at the bottom of the farm. The smells of fresh manure toasted in the generous sunshine mixing with the floating aroma of mangoes, oranges and passion fruit. Like a band of soldiers we’d take off on adventures through maizefields and forest, with neighbours offering us supplies on the way, in the form of fruit. After dinner – which often we made collaboratively, when our parents went on strike – we’d make up songs and dance and entertain the grown-ups with our laughter and energy. It sounds so idyllic now I often wonder if it was real and I lament the likely discontinuation of an experience that my children might never know.
All of us grandchildren, at some point in our younger days, were sent to live with our grandparents – for weeks or even months! There were varied reasons for our stays and our grandparents never saw it as an inconvenience but rather as a joyful opportunity. The bonds we formed are incomparable. Our grandparents shared their stories, wisdom and discipline, instilling in us a sense of pride and a grounding that cannot be matched. And a closeness that bolsters through and through, the meaning of family. Monetary exchange, between our parents and grandparents, was merely an issue of logistics – extra money to feed the extra mouths. Yet, as this TV show would suggest, people in today’s UK, view spending time with their grandchildren as work demanding a wage!
These are different times and this is a different place. In a country that is so expensive to live in and in the context of a system that leaves less and less opportunity for the fostering of close familial relationships (particularly those beyond the primary family unit), I can understand the roots of a demand that in many other parts of the world would be unheard of! Would be insulting to the grandparents in fact!
And yet, this the society a vast majority of us in those same distant parts of the world aspire to, often without appreciating the full social implications of this economic machine. Meanwhile a growing minority of people in the West are now seeking to ‘downgrade’ their lifestyle and move ‘back’ towards a simpler way of living that is more in tune with the environment and community – privileged by having already experienced an affluence that those outside the window can only dream. And who is to deny another of dreaming?
Today I was completely disgusted by a comment that someone made to an online newspaper article: “the only thing africa exports is bullshit moaners and Nigerian e-mail scams… africa is a pimple on the wests backside and is a bottomless pit for its aid money.”
I cannot help but take it personally when people attack the things I love. Especially when they fail to appreciate the majesty, complexity, texture, wonder, energy, beauty… of a continent. And I am affirmed by something Alice Walker once insisted:
“Please remember, especially in these times of group-think and right-on chorus, that no person is your friend (or kin) who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow and be perceived as fully blossomed as you were intended. Or who belittles in any fashion the gifts you labour so to bring into the world.”
In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens
I think this reminder is very useful in the context of the global community and especially in a decade where catchy slogans (Make Poverty History) and pop-stars are singing these choruses that seem to mirror the longevity of a sub-standard seasonal radio hit. All continents, countries, nations, people have a right to respect – and understanding is a prerequisite to that respect. Imagine what can happen with not only open, but engaged eyes and minds…
I cannot think of a place where I have felt so much love – both from those who “should” as well as the mutual recognition, with absolute strangers, of a common divinity. How else do you explain Dunga, the trader at the fish market in Dar es Salaam, who insisted on devoting over an hour of his day to show my friend and I all the fascinating fruits of the sea? The skeptic in me kept wondering how many shillings he’d demand in return but I realized my own deplorable (in my own opinion) capitalist configuration: when offered, he declined. The abundance of true brothersisterhood is something that warmed me yet worried me too for its conspicuous presence, in my perception, alerted me of its absence in my everyday life in the UK.
“If your granny’s your nanny, should she get paid?” the presenters on a TV breakfast show asked the other day. I thought back to childhood Decembers spent in Tanzania. The children of all my 6 aunts and uncles in my grandparents home – playing in the crisp clear stream at the bottom of the farm. The smells of fresh manure toasted in the generous sunshine mixing with the floating aroma of mangoes, oranges and passion fruit. Like a band of soldiers we’d take off on adventures through maizefields and forest, with neighbours offering us supplies on the way, in the form of fruit. After dinner – which often we made collaboratively, when our parents went on strike – we’d make up songs and dance and entertain the grown-ups with our laughter and energy. It sounds so idyllic now I often wonder if it was real and I lament the likely discontinuation of an experience that my children might never know.
All of us grandchildren, at some point in our younger days, were sent to live with our grandparents – for weeks or even months! There were varied reasons for our stays and our grandparents never saw it as an inconvenience but rather as a joyful opportunity. The bonds we formed are incomparable. Our grandparents shared their stories, wisdom and discipline, instilling in us a sense of pride and a grounding that cannot be matched. And a closeness that bolsters through and through, the meaning of family. Monetary exchange, between our parents and grandparents, was merely an issue of logistics – extra money to feed the extra mouths. Yet, as this TV show would suggest, people in today’s UK, view spending time with their grandchildren as work demanding a wage!
These are different times and this is a different place. In a country that is so expensive to live in and in the context of a system that leaves less and less opportunity for the fostering of close familial relationships (particularly those beyond the primary family unit), I can understand the roots of a demand that in many other parts of the world would be unheard of! Would be insulting to the grandparents in fact!
And yet, this the society a vast majority of us in those same distant parts of the world aspire to, often without appreciating the full social implications of this economic machine. Meanwhile a growing minority of people in the West are now seeking to ‘downgrade’ their lifestyle and move ‘back’ towards a simpler way of living that is more in tune with the environment and community – privileged by having already experienced an affluence that those outside the window can only dream. And who is to deny another of dreaming?
Today I was completely disgusted by a comment that someone made to an online newspaper article: “the only thing africa exports is bullshit moaners and Nigerian e-mail scams… africa is a pimple on the wests backside and is a bottomless pit for its aid money.”
I cannot help but take it personally when people attack the things I love. Especially when they fail to appreciate the majesty, complexity, texture, wonder, energy, beauty… of a continent. And I am affirmed by something Alice Walker once insisted:
“Please remember, especially in these times of group-think and right-on chorus, that no person is your friend (or kin) who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow and be perceived as fully blossomed as you were intended. Or who belittles in any fashion the gifts you labour so to bring into the world.”
In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens
I think this reminder is very useful in the context of the global community and especially in a decade where catchy slogans (Make Poverty History) and pop-stars are singing these choruses that seem to mirror the longevity of a sub-standard seasonal radio hit. All continents, countries, nations, people have a right to respect – and understanding is a prerequisite to that respect. Imagine what can happen with not only open, but engaged eyes and minds…
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Minority Report 200807
I’m beginning to become actively concerned about the future plight of minorities living in the West. Passively yes, one observes institutional racism, blatant profiling and glass ceilings thick enough to absorb the most ambitious of shocks. And yes, the occasion incident happens with you as subject but once the futility of your anger neutralizes it back down, it’s life again, as what you have now come to regard as normal. You remind yourself that you are here with a purpose in mind and the gains you patiently persevere for will annihilate memories of a senseless subjugation.
But there are 2 films I’ve watched lately that had me last night seriously considering the need for developing a continent-wide (Africa in this instance) defense strategy. (Disclaimer: obviously Africans and related Diasporans are not the only minorities in the precarious situation I’m getting to but, my mind tends to default to focusing on that glorious land mass that gave me life, in the physical and spiritual sense!) It began with Children of Men – a bleak future where those who are different are caged like animals because England, the last standing nation yet to be obliterated by war, disease etc., is consequently suffering a far graver immigration problem than the (supposed) one of the present. Then last night, I watched the gloriously anarchistic V for Vendetta where, once again we had, a future-time England where Muslims, homosexuals and ethnic minorities were outlawed and used as specimens for pharmaceutical research (as animals once were). Again, the ruling regime was totalitarian. Again, viral epidemics, nuclear fallouts and brutal wars were the government’s chosen weapons of fear to keep the masses complicit. Altogether a profoundly depressing but altogether not too surreal scenario. And that’s what scares me most. The fact that not only do these storylines appear very feasible but that elements of them are already realities. There’s a brilliant line in V that states something about artists using lies to tell the truth and politicians using lies to cover the truth!
All the disparate acts against humanity that occur worldwide fail to coalesce into an crucial urgent collective consciousness. Anyone alien studying our life and times must shake their heads in astonishment on our failure to learn from our own histories. Is the biggest tragedy of our times a superlative failure to communicate? To make connections between things – to perceive and derive patterns? Indeed poetry is truer than history. Indeed the tools that art possesses may be the most powerful implements we have to awaken ourselves to what is before our very eyes. So yes, lies, embellished truths, tales… these are like masks that the artist wears so that he can be her- or himself without unfavourable consequences. That’s the crazy irony of our existence – we need props and tricks to safely liberate ourselves. There’s something seriously wrong with that state of affairs. It’s funny then when you think that the romantic ideal situation in life is freedom. Because in actuality, the journey there is perhaps the most difficult and dangerous one we will ever undertake.
… so we keep the hope alive that the reward will be worth it.
But there are 2 films I’ve watched lately that had me last night seriously considering the need for developing a continent-wide (Africa in this instance) defense strategy. (Disclaimer: obviously Africans and related Diasporans are not the only minorities in the precarious situation I’m getting to but, my mind tends to default to focusing on that glorious land mass that gave me life, in the physical and spiritual sense!) It began with Children of Men – a bleak future where those who are different are caged like animals because England, the last standing nation yet to be obliterated by war, disease etc., is consequently suffering a far graver immigration problem than the (supposed) one of the present. Then last night, I watched the gloriously anarchistic V for Vendetta where, once again we had, a future-time England where Muslims, homosexuals and ethnic minorities were outlawed and used as specimens for pharmaceutical research (as animals once were). Again, the ruling regime was totalitarian. Again, viral epidemics, nuclear fallouts and brutal wars were the government’s chosen weapons of fear to keep the masses complicit. Altogether a profoundly depressing but altogether not too surreal scenario. And that’s what scares me most. The fact that not only do these storylines appear very feasible but that elements of them are already realities. There’s a brilliant line in V that states something about artists using lies to tell the truth and politicians using lies to cover the truth!
All the disparate acts against humanity that occur worldwide fail to coalesce into an crucial urgent collective consciousness. Anyone alien studying our life and times must shake their heads in astonishment on our failure to learn from our own histories. Is the biggest tragedy of our times a superlative failure to communicate? To make connections between things – to perceive and derive patterns? Indeed poetry is truer than history. Indeed the tools that art possesses may be the most powerful implements we have to awaken ourselves to what is before our very eyes. So yes, lies, embellished truths, tales… these are like masks that the artist wears so that he can be her- or himself without unfavourable consequences. That’s the crazy irony of our existence – we need props and tricks to safely liberate ourselves. There’s something seriously wrong with that state of affairs. It’s funny then when you think that the romantic ideal situation in life is freedom. Because in actuality, the journey there is perhaps the most difficult and dangerous one we will ever undertake.
… so we keep the hope alive that the reward will be worth it.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
A Call to Arms
Corruption, greed, inefficiency, neglect, political irresponsibility—these are African realities but we must remember that they are not all that defines the continent or its people. I observe many people who will quickly denounce their country yet hang on to identification with it. Their nationality or place of origin will come second to their name when asked who they are yet, in the same breath they will let out a condemning supercilious cry, “Africans!” What is pathetic is for us to think we stand above it all when this position itself mirrors the same denial and irresponsibility that several of our less-than-acceptable leaders exercise.
What happened to taking responsibility for what is ours? In a short opinion piece in Kenya’s Nation newspaper, Revolution Belongs to the Youth, Benjamin Mogaka Obegi puts it well: “If we complain that Kenya has failed us, we equally take the blame for failing to grasp the fragments of revolution and turning the history clock to our advantage.”
Check out Parselelo Kantai’s article “Death of the Kenya Dream?” on African Bullets and Honey.
What happened to taking responsibility for what is ours? In a short opinion piece in Kenya’s Nation newspaper, Revolution Belongs to the Youth, Benjamin Mogaka Obegi puts it well: “If we complain that Kenya has failed us, we equally take the blame for failing to grasp the fragments of revolution and turning the history clock to our advantage.”
Check out Parselelo Kantai’s article “Death of the Kenya Dream?” on African Bullets and Honey.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Stand Wherever Your Feet Take You
Interestingly enough, looking back at comments on a previous post, I came upon criticism for charity organization Stand Up For Africa.
A person who chose to remain anonymous stated:
“The other day I was reading about a group -Stand up for Africa, largely based in the UK and found it incredibly interesting to see that the whole team behind this group are based in the West!! Practice what you preach, I would advise. Return to your homelands and begin the 'stand' from there, not from your comfortable existences in the West...”
Ironically enough (and having totally forgotten about anonymous’ comment), a few weeks later I began work as a volunteer with UK based Stand Up For Africa (SUFA) and it has been a very enlightening experience. There are a wide range of criticisms that I have come across. For one, the fact that the organization includes members and volunteers who are not black or even African raises a lot of eyebrows. However, many Africans cannot bother to participate in constructive activities in aid of their own continent! And generally, people tend to be very skeptical of charities and whether money raised actually goes where it is intended. I can tell you this from first hand observation: SUFA is an independent (read no bureaucratic nonsense and vested interests to please) charity with 2 (yes, that’s correct) employees! Everyone else (there is a very wide network of volunteers) gives up time for free. SUFA’s office is very modest and it is wildly apparent that money is not leaking out anywhere. Still relatively young (3 years), SUFA currently works with grassroots organizations in Benin and Uganda with partner, SAFY and intends to expand to cover all the countries of the continent. Read more about SUFA’s current fundraising project .
The question for anonymous is, what negative is there in Africans trying to affect change for Africa from places elsewhere? Would you rather they do nothing at all? Unfortunately, as much as it might not fit into our ideal mental images (because I do share your sentiments about the value of people going home and affecting change from there), it may be more possible (or easier) to effectively mobilize resources and action from abroad. That doesn’t mean that we should forget about trying to do so from home but that we should not shut out alternatives and options. At the end of the day, Girl next door’s response sums it up well: “due to resources, access to information and funds, it can make more sense for a group to be based abroad rather than at home. It's nearly impossible to work in a messed-up system that is corrupt and inefficient.”
It is counterproductive for us to argue about what, ultimately, amount to technicalities. This is akin to politics at home where there is much talk and debate but little if any action. Caught up in ego struggles and differences, we miss the point! I shall end with the once again wise words of Girl next door: “It does not benefit us to be so divisive (kenyans abroad vs kenyans at home, well educated vs laymen...) when we have a common cause.”
PS, Look at great historical figures who had significant impacts on their homelands from bases outside them…
A person who chose to remain anonymous stated:
“The other day I was reading about a group -Stand up for Africa, largely based in the UK and found it incredibly interesting to see that the whole team behind this group are based in the West!! Practice what you preach, I would advise. Return to your homelands and begin the 'stand' from there, not from your comfortable existences in the West...”
Ironically enough (and having totally forgotten about anonymous’ comment), a few weeks later I began work as a volunteer with UK based Stand Up For Africa (SUFA) and it has been a very enlightening experience. There are a wide range of criticisms that I have come across. For one, the fact that the organization includes members and volunteers who are not black or even African raises a lot of eyebrows. However, many Africans cannot bother to participate in constructive activities in aid of their own continent! And generally, people tend to be very skeptical of charities and whether money raised actually goes where it is intended. I can tell you this from first hand observation: SUFA is an independent (read no bureaucratic nonsense and vested interests to please) charity with 2 (yes, that’s correct) employees! Everyone else (there is a very wide network of volunteers) gives up time for free. SUFA’s office is very modest and it is wildly apparent that money is not leaking out anywhere. Still relatively young (3 years), SUFA currently works with grassroots organizations in Benin and Uganda with partner, SAFY and intends to expand to cover all the countries of the continent. Read more about SUFA’s current fundraising project .
The question for anonymous is, what negative is there in Africans trying to affect change for Africa from places elsewhere? Would you rather they do nothing at all? Unfortunately, as much as it might not fit into our ideal mental images (because I do share your sentiments about the value of people going home and affecting change from there), it may be more possible (or easier) to effectively mobilize resources and action from abroad. That doesn’t mean that we should forget about trying to do so from home but that we should not shut out alternatives and options. At the end of the day, Girl next door’s response sums it up well: “due to resources, access to information and funds, it can make more sense for a group to be based abroad rather than at home. It's nearly impossible to work in a messed-up system that is corrupt and inefficient.”
It is counterproductive for us to argue about what, ultimately, amount to technicalities. This is akin to politics at home where there is much talk and debate but little if any action. Caught up in ego struggles and differences, we miss the point! I shall end with the once again wise words of Girl next door: “It does not benefit us to be so divisive (kenyans abroad vs kenyans at home, well educated vs laymen...) when we have a common cause.”
PS, Look at great historical figures who had significant impacts on their homelands from bases outside them…
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Medicine for Dying
We often take for granted that HIV and AIDS is the same thing: different versions or stages of the same disease. We take the words of scientists and researchers as bond because, after all, they are the experts! But lately, I have stumbled and been called to pay attention to some very interesting sources that have upturned a lot of things that I thought I knew.
The establishment is engaged “mass hypnosis” (see google link below) — crafting messages about HIV and AIDS that are not sanctioned by the same scientific rigours that are standard practice. HIV/AIDS education is often synonymous with terrorism in that, we are instilled with (what may indeed be mostly baseless) fear. As a result, a positive HIV diagnosis is often enough to send someone into such a state of panic that their health deteriorated swiftly from this stress alone. “It’s the HIV,” observers will say when, prior to the diagnosis, the person was obliviously living a full and healthy life. What we have working here is a billion dollar industry involving the highest echelons of Western governments. In light of such a lucrative business, a cure is surely not in the distant horizon. Indeed, how is one to find a cure when the cause itself is not so clear…
The testing and diagnostic practices involved are largely inaccurate; several are not approved by major medical authorities and; experiments to test their validity have been botched or abandoned. For example, it is very possible to get a false HIV+ result if you’re suffering from flu, parasitic diseases and even Malaria. This last one especially leads me to wonder if this has any correlation to the fact that so many Africans are being told they have HIV?
Speaking of correlation, the HIV=AIDS hypothesis, i.e. the “truth” that HIV causes AIDS is backed up essentially by correlation. Many people with AIDS were observed to have HIV as well and thus the conclusion was jumped to. However, correlation does not prove causation. It reminds me of myths parents tell their children to prevent them for engaging in behaviour they don’t approve of. For example, your mother telling you that sweets will make you get a flu, hoping that it will discourage you from eating too many. Flu is a virus so it’s highly unlikely that sweets will cause it but, if you get the flu soon after you eat a heap of sweets… you might just believe it’s true.
According to some alternative theories, what we call HIV has existed for years and years on end. Many claim it is harmless and not infectious. The fact that HIV tests test for antibodies seems to support this claim. When infected by a disease, your body develops antibodies to fight it. So in effect, if you test positive for HIV antibodies, it should be an indication that your body has HIV under control and that the virus cells are now dormant! Many theorists go on to say that it is the drugs prescribed to HIV+ patients that then go on to destroy the immune system and thus progress to AIDS. They are several cases where the health of people taken off HIV ‘treatment’, goes on to improve whereas those on continued treatment suffer a tragic fate where their bodies literally slowly waste away. An MP Shah Hospital (Nairobi) doctor discusses losing his HIV patients not to the virus but to the side effects of their antiretroviral treatment (the article however only goes as far as attributing these losses to improper management of treatment).
2005 movie The Constant Gardner appears to have been more than merely good entertainment. AZT, the common prescription claimed to prolong the lives of people living with HIV and AIDS, kills cells indiscriminately. This poison, originally developed for cancer patients but never approved, was then resurrected under pressure for an ailment for a growing AIDS epidemic. Possible reasons why AIDS patients on AZT see improvement: once in your system, your body rapidly creates cells to fight off this offensive substance and as a result, tests on your immune system show rapid improvement. Apparently, several patients who show improvement over a few years after treatment then go on to suffer quite rapid deterioration and death.
The moral of the story seems to be that, HIV does not destroy immune systems and cause AIDS. Indeed HIV+ people live for years, healthy, unaffected, normal lives. AIDS is by definition dubious in that several, in many ways arbitrarily chosen, combinations of diseases are termed ‘AIDS’ and its known causes are subject to a lot of scrutiny. Many people are perhaps wrongly diagnosed with either and medical malpractice is going on unattended to overwhelming proportions.
I am not a professional medical expert, nor scientist but these are not just my random thoughts — many, including renowned, first-class medical experts and scientists, share them.
Below is a list of enlightening links for further investigation:
http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=-6814491427846073388&q=AIDS+conspiracy
http://www.healtoronto.com
http://www.aliveandwell.org
Be well and be wary.
The establishment is engaged “mass hypnosis” (see google link below) — crafting messages about HIV and AIDS that are not sanctioned by the same scientific rigours that are standard practice. HIV/AIDS education is often synonymous with terrorism in that, we are instilled with (what may indeed be mostly baseless) fear. As a result, a positive HIV diagnosis is often enough to send someone into such a state of panic that their health deteriorated swiftly from this stress alone. “It’s the HIV,” observers will say when, prior to the diagnosis, the person was obliviously living a full and healthy life. What we have working here is a billion dollar industry involving the highest echelons of Western governments. In light of such a lucrative business, a cure is surely not in the distant horizon. Indeed, how is one to find a cure when the cause itself is not so clear…
The testing and diagnostic practices involved are largely inaccurate; several are not approved by major medical authorities and; experiments to test their validity have been botched or abandoned. For example, it is very possible to get a false HIV+ result if you’re suffering from flu, parasitic diseases and even Malaria. This last one especially leads me to wonder if this has any correlation to the fact that so many Africans are being told they have HIV?
Speaking of correlation, the HIV=AIDS hypothesis, i.e. the “truth” that HIV causes AIDS is backed up essentially by correlation. Many people with AIDS were observed to have HIV as well and thus the conclusion was jumped to. However, correlation does not prove causation. It reminds me of myths parents tell their children to prevent them for engaging in behaviour they don’t approve of. For example, your mother telling you that sweets will make you get a flu, hoping that it will discourage you from eating too many. Flu is a virus so it’s highly unlikely that sweets will cause it but, if you get the flu soon after you eat a heap of sweets… you might just believe it’s true.
According to some alternative theories, what we call HIV has existed for years and years on end. Many claim it is harmless and not infectious. The fact that HIV tests test for antibodies seems to support this claim. When infected by a disease, your body develops antibodies to fight it. So in effect, if you test positive for HIV antibodies, it should be an indication that your body has HIV under control and that the virus cells are now dormant! Many theorists go on to say that it is the drugs prescribed to HIV+ patients that then go on to destroy the immune system and thus progress to AIDS. They are several cases where the health of people taken off HIV ‘treatment’, goes on to improve whereas those on continued treatment suffer a tragic fate where their bodies literally slowly waste away. An MP Shah Hospital (Nairobi) doctor discusses losing his HIV patients not to the virus but to the side effects of their antiretroviral treatment (the article however only goes as far as attributing these losses to improper management of treatment).
2005 movie The Constant Gardner appears to have been more than merely good entertainment. AZT, the common prescription claimed to prolong the lives of people living with HIV and AIDS, kills cells indiscriminately. This poison, originally developed for cancer patients but never approved, was then resurrected under pressure for an ailment for a growing AIDS epidemic. Possible reasons why AIDS patients on AZT see improvement: once in your system, your body rapidly creates cells to fight off this offensive substance and as a result, tests on your immune system show rapid improvement. Apparently, several patients who show improvement over a few years after treatment then go on to suffer quite rapid deterioration and death.
The moral of the story seems to be that, HIV does not destroy immune systems and cause AIDS. Indeed HIV+ people live for years, healthy, unaffected, normal lives. AIDS is by definition dubious in that several, in many ways arbitrarily chosen, combinations of diseases are termed ‘AIDS’ and its known causes are subject to a lot of scrutiny. Many people are perhaps wrongly diagnosed with either and medical malpractice is going on unattended to overwhelming proportions.
I am not a professional medical expert, nor scientist but these are not just my random thoughts — many, including renowned, first-class medical experts and scientists, share them.
Below is a list of enlightening links for further investigation:
http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=-6814491427846073388&q=AIDS+conspiracy
http://www.healtoronto.com
http://www.aliveandwell.org
Be well and be wary.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Daily Gospel Plus!
In the spirit of the educational and self-realizing power of the arts…
“Far from music-making taking a peripheral role for individuals and society — a view propagated in the kind of theoretical stance that marginalizes ‘leisure’ or ‘culture’ as somehow less than ‘work or society’ — music can equally well be seen as playing a central part not just in urban networks but also in the social structure and processes of our life today”
(Finnegan, The Hidden Music Makers)
In the interest of inspiring one another to recognize the beauty that lives around us at any and every time, ubeautiqous was born. It’s me wanting to share my experiences and observations of grace in all categories of art and design (and some that are perhaps yet to be categorized!) and inviting participation from all.
“Far from music-making taking a peripheral role for individuals and society — a view propagated in the kind of theoretical stance that marginalizes ‘leisure’ or ‘culture’ as somehow less than ‘work or society’ — music can equally well be seen as playing a central part not just in urban networks but also in the social structure and processes of our life today”
(Finnegan, The Hidden Music Makers)
In the interest of inspiring one another to recognize the beauty that lives around us at any and every time, ubeautiqous was born. It’s me wanting to share my experiences and observations of grace in all categories of art and design (and some that are perhaps yet to be categorized!) and inviting participation from all.
Monday, August 14, 2006
On Beauty
In this day and age, there is no excuse for ugliness. Now before you go off thinking that I'm promoting all kinds of bodily um… augmentation and the like, I am refering exclusively to the environments we live in and the products we use. Commodities. Good design. I chanced on an interesting site, trendwatching.com and they discuss our presence in the age of "innovation overload". Here, overdosing is a good thing. Interesting is their stress that innovation is not rocket science: it's about understanding what people want and delivering it to them. Sounds easy enough n'est-ce pas? Personally, I think that there is so much latent creativity within us that only needs to be triggered, perhaps most effectively by the belief that we possess it.
Beauty is not exclusive to the wealthy/fortunate/learned/cultured (delete misconception as appropriate)… few. It is a gift to us all. But you cannot receive with folded arms. Sometimes it would seem that to embrace innovation, one must be innovative, and perhaps getting there is simply a matter of conscientization!
Beauty is not exclusive to the wealthy/fortunate/learned/cultured (delete misconception as appropriate)… few. It is a gift to us all. But you cannot receive with folded arms. Sometimes it would seem that to embrace innovation, one must be innovative, and perhaps getting there is simply a matter of conscientization!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
