Take care

September 22, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

We often tells ourselves that it’s a waste to live one’s life in fear. And it’s true. It’s such a waste to feel that any moment may be our last because what sort of living is that? Perhaps a better approach would be to enjoy what is given and savor it for all it’s worth, so that when the time comes you can go forth bravely, feeling like you did all that you could.

But sometimes you are not granted this wish. You leave this world with such terror and pain and very much alone. Last week two British tourists were brutally murdered in Koh Tao, a popular island destination in Thailand. They were probably doing all the same things that we did when we were 24 years old, having some drinks and feeling like the time and place could not be more perfect. David Miller and Hannah Witheridge’s lives ended that night, which they thought would like be any other night, and it ended so violently. And it impacts me because I feel for their families, their friends and all those who will miss them the most. They make me see so many others I met in my travels and they make me see myself.

Here’s the thing. You could be walking down the street at home and be hit by a car. You do not need to be abroad to be in danger and robbed at gunpoint. I love Thailand, I love the people and I love the place. One cannot and should not fear what is to come because I think it would be missing the point. There is also the case of Tomoko Kawashita, whose life ended at a Buddhist temple at 9 o’clock in the morning. How could anyone ever predict there would be danger in visiting a religious site at the height of Loy Kratong, which is a major celebration each year in Southeast asia? In the daylight?

It is only respectful and vigilant to remember that violence against women is possible at anytime. There is a reason why Stieg Larsson’s “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” was originally named “Men who hate women.” Because it is this hatred against our body, towards our mind, towards our very existence that gets us subjugated and brutalized. It’s not just us they hate, they hate themselves. So for these young victims and all victims of violence I truly hope that you are at peace. And for all women traveling alone please take care.

Help!

September 12, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

My grandmother always said that your relatives are forced to love you but you want to make the job as easy as possible. I suppose it is true that there is a social code that encourages for family members to be supportive, forgiving and tolerant of flaws. But is blood really thicker than water? I’m not quite sure and this belief is put into even more question when you move somewhere else.

One of the realities that comes with relocating to a new city is that you have fewer people to count on. Of course you make friends and meet your neighbours but they probably don’t want to drive you to the airport at 6am or pick you up medication on their way home from work. Nor should they have to. I think we all prepare for this before the moving vans are packed because we don’t want to be shocked upon arrival. You expect to cocoon into each other, make a party of three and lean in. What is not spoken about enough are all the ways that people do help you, the various times they go out of their way to make life easier.

Most of our belongings are traveling by land in a truck, stowed away in boxes or bubble wrap. These possessions are all that we carry and they bumble along the road of life much like we do. It takes time to cross the US-Canada border and days pass before the miles are traversed and these reminders and memories land at your doorstep. So you plan and prepare your suitcase to last a few days, in our case it will be closer to two weeks. The positives about moving to a neighbouring country are that the culture and currency are similar and the language is the same. So you buy all those objects to start a home, to survive and eventually thrive. Now, what you travel with as a single or even a couple is very different from boarding a plane with a toddler. Extra baggage in the form of car seats and fold-out cots are essential along with a carry-on suitcase of toys. This is when it gets heavy and tricky. What surprises you most in these situations is the kindness of others: the stranger on the airport shuttle who helps you unload your bags, the other passengers who don’t roll their eyes at your fussy child and the rental car agent who leaves his desk and carries your suitcases right to your car.

When you begin a new job you know that your first connections will be with your colleagues. This will be one of your circles, maybe not an inner one but an important one nonetheless. So when they host a barbecue to welcome you on your first weekend in the state and serve you lobster tail, scallops and shrimps, basically the best that New England has to offer, your heart aches a little, and not in a bad way. But you do get a bit teary when they buy your son organic animal crackers, juice boxes from Whole Foods and crayons galore. When from the start they treat you with a warmth and genuine care that you only expect from your relatives and those who know you most, you are surprised and humbled.

This isn’t the first time that I’ve experienced this form of support or friendship. During my fieldwork in Thailand so many individuals offered such great advice, help and camaraderie that can make a place less daunting and lonely. I remember when my colleague and friend V picked me up from the Chiang Mai airport because I had never lived alone in a foreign country before. She got me home, gave me water, and turned on the fan, basically the first things you need when you’re a bit intimidated and unsure. I also cannot say enough of my friend M who drove me to the mall to get a cellphone and to grocery stores countless times to get good cheese and chocolate. My roommates L and K allowed me to hitch so many rides to jazz bars and cinemas because I could not operate a motorbike. Well, I could but not without severely compromising my personal safety and the safety of others.

All of these experiences with such giving and generous friends makes you want to be better. You hope for opportunities to help someone out and pay it forward because you were so lucky to find what and who you need, when you needed it the most.

From my heart, thank you.

Entitlement

September 10, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

“For the first time in my life there is no logical next step and it’s fucking amazing.” That was supposed to be the first sentence of this blog post. I had meant to finish it weeks ago but never got around to it. Perspectives shift when you’re actually in the middle of it. I guess that’s why they call it lived experience. Along with the “fucking amazing” there is a more grounded sense of unease, but it’s not fear. It’s not like the feeling before the drop on a roller coaster, it’s more like you’re a kid on the first day of school. Nothing is worn, the pencils are fresh and there is the potential for something new. I’m not just standing on a conveyor belt. I’m actually thinking about what it is I want.

The last time I did this was when I was failing miserably at a science undergrad and basically felt like a big fat loser. I use the word “fat” because it was when I was the heaviest. I’m an emotional eater so I also seem to gain a few pounds when things aren’t at its finest. What was worse though was losing my confidence and questioning my level of intelligence. This was precisely the turning point when I needed to put on the boots and sludge through something I hated or work towards a goal I loved. Both paths required the Wellies and hate to say it but some shit to walk through. So I chose for it to be meaningful and close to my heart, even if that meant not having a B.Sc but god forbid a B.A and feeling the weight of my parents’ disappointment for close to a year. In a family with a long line of physicians a Bachelor of Arts degree probably seems like I majored in basket weaving. For me personally, it was far more valuable than knowing the table of elements and quantitative formulas. It provided me with critical thinking skills and a political frame. It woke me right up.

I’m at a similar crossroad now since I’m close to finishing my doctoral degree. Graduate school is a process, a negotiation and it’s far from linear. It requires you be resilient, to work hard and be open to always improve. These are lessons and skills that are easily translated into various fields, the issue is that I don’t quite know what that “field” currently will be or what that “job” will look like. There are ideas, concepts and dreams that just need to coalesce into something more solid and less abstract. One of my major faults has been to follow along with societal and familial expectations. Always having been such a “good” girl I’ve never wanted to disappoint. Thankfully as you age Shakespeare’s words about “to thine own self be true” becomes more of a life mantra than a high school English essay. At the end of the day you are only accountable to yourself so what sort of things do you devote your time to? Making yourself miserable for the pay cheque no longer cuts it. As much as I am thankful for all of the opportunities that grad school has offered, I’m also ready to leave. I believe a workplace and a career should surround you with inspiration, should ignite your passion, and it should not be a chore. Am I asking for too much? Every few months the New York Times or Slate will publish an article about my “generation.” We as the Sesame Street cohort has apparently been told all our lives that we’re “special” so we have unrealistic expectations about our present and future, that we are too entitled. In my humble opinion, there is nothing wrong with working at it till you get it right. Till you are good and satisfied.

Label maker

August 8, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / 2 Comments

There are times when I feel like my husband is a robot and I’ll have to change his batteries ever so often. Whenever I’m in a huff he tells me not take it personally. This is when I look at him, Mr. heterosexual, tall, white male and raise my eyebrows. I remind him that for some of us it is sometimes personal. When you are a racialized female with a small stature, your reality is not always so black and white. It’s not particularly shocking. He grew up in an affluent neighbourhood in Toronto, participated in athletics, played hockey and attended some of the best schools in the country. It’s not his fault that life has been pretty easy and that the world is sometimes his oyster.

People forget how transparent they really are. Why do you think we take such pleasure in reading each other and ascribing characteristics? We are all walking around with invisible post-it notes with credentials, education, beauty and desirability. We just hope that people pick-up on the labels that we value most. The reality is that the signals always get crossed and everyone is interpreting those messages with their own biases. It’s a game that no one wins.

If we viewed the world so negatively I don’t think anyone would get out of bed. What would be the point? I would rather frame this process more positively. Wasn’t there a point when we were younger that we actually took pleasure in games? When you couldn’t get your coat on fast enough and recess was never long enough? If we return to this type of exuberance I think the social transactions become more open. So what if someone misinterpreted you, you probably did the same to the gentleman three persons ago. My husband is partly correct in telling me to shake it off. These slings and arrows are never going to go away so it might be best to get a thicker skin. I’m not saying become hard. I’m just saying that these inconveniences just come with the territory. If someone doesn’t like you, go talk to someone else.

By the ounce

August 6, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / 2 Comments

You will never care what others think more than when you’ve had a child. The tendency to let other people influence you is usually kept in check for most other aspects of our life. But when it comes to parenting it does not let up. You’re lucky if it becomes background music and not a blaring noise. This is one instance when you hope for the Kenny G. You know those mothers who pretend that they have it all together? They are in even more trouble than the rest of us.

So why it is that we let those opinions impact the way we behave? I have a colleague named C whose son is a similar age to mine. Entering the twos I was describing all of these strategies that I’m using to counter the potential for emotional melt downs. I explained that I have a low threshold for humiliation. She laughed and said, she doesn’t, that she’d probably be rolling around on the floor with him. I loved it. She realized that I was more afraid of the people’s stares and judgements than the actual act of picking my son off of the grocery store floor. I was afraid to be deemed a terrible mother.

But you know what, I’m not a terrible mother and neither are you. Of course there are times when we are not at our finest, when we’re tired, grumpy or slightly bored. But most of us are trying our very best with the lot that we’ve been given. As mothers you’re programmed and pressured to internalize all of the advice and criticisms thrown at you. But the bearers of this enlightenment are not the ones raising your kid so try to turn them into elevator music and choose which suggestions are constructive. I hope by the time my son is ten the racket will barely be a whisper.

It all begins in the delivery room. Birth announcements cheerfully advertise the birth weight and apparently larger numbers are the goal. That one’s worth as a parent begins with an eight pound baby. When I first saw my son’s crying face I thought he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I could not stop crying. It was only when people started to visit and worried that he was too “small” that the doubts began. He was a healthy weight considering that he was born two weeks early and the tests all demonstrated that he was in great condition. But see, you lose sight of all that as soon as society enters your hospital room. Then the doctor’s visits every three days begin and you start counting the ounces like everything depends on it. All of these measures exist to ensure the safety and well-being of the child but we’re conditioned to attribute the emotional toll as part of motherhood. That you just have to buck up. And of course supplementing your child is frowned upon. Nursing is not easy but you know what’s harder? The guilt they lay on you when you want other options to support the breastfeeding. My mother tried to reassure me and I pretended not to worry. I said that babies become men so I was fine. If only I actually believed my words. He is now a solid two year old and I feel silly for tying myself into knots before. But for any mother currently in those first few months, I just want to say, you are doing a great job. You are beautiful. Keep on keepin’ on.

Imposition

August 5, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

My relatives maintain that Andrew is the most Burmese white man I could have chosen to marry. He eats chillies like a champ and does not even bat an eye at the condition of lavatories when you’re on a road trip in Southeast Asia. In all seriousness my love for him grew when I witnessed the ease with which he negotiated the different culture and the inner workings of my family. Apparently he holds himself and presents himself to the social world in a very “Burmese” way. And that’s amazing, we all want our partners to hold in high esteem something we value so much.

What surprises me more is that he often is more Ah-na dare than me. This term expresses the desire not to inconvenience or be an imposition to others and is a prevalent aspect of Burmese culture. The best example of this is, when someone asks you if you want something, you would commonly reply with “that’s okay.” Now, this would frustrate many Westerners and they would ask again, probably with some impatience, so, is it a yes or a no? Along the same vein is the fear of losing face. This phenomenon is the abhorrence of being embarrassed publicly. Trust me, you never want to cause anyone to lose face because there can be very real and often violent consequences. Apparently being shamed sometimes warrants pulling out a gun and serving a prison sentence. To an outsider these characteristics may seem backward or archaic but I think these anxieties are present but performed differently in the global North. We may avoid the incarceration but we try to rebuild our hurt pride through consumption, other markers of prestige or by putting others down. To some a hurt credit card and an imagined sense of superiority makes everything better. That’s lame.

Now there are some aspects of the cultural practice of not wanting to inconvenience others that I like and others that I can do without. Not wanting to be a burden encourages independence and self-sufficiency. These are character traits that are valued in North American society and will serve you well on the journey to your standards for success. However, being Ah-na dare can make you feel scared to ask for assistance or favours. I’m often at a loss for words how Andrew doesn’t ask for much. He will actually go out of his way not to ask questions, especially to strangers in a foreign country. Perhaps it’s because he’s a white male and things usually just appear for him. But if there is one thing I have learnt from being raised within Western society, it’s that no one owes you a thing. They will also not give you anything that you don’t ask for, especially if you’re a racialized individual. Although I am still hesitant about being brash and straightforward with those I admire the most, I’ve learned to just get over it. Really, the worst thing that anyone can say is “no.” There is not a whole lot to lose and the freedom that comes from fearlessness is worth everything.

Faith

July 14, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

Isn’t there a saying that if you want to keep friends you don’t talk about religion or politics? Well, I’m surprised that I have any friends at all if this is the case. Technically I am a Buddhist, practically my religion lies in theory and common sense.

A fortune teller once told me that I had “stolen” someone’s spouse in a last life and that’s what I’m paying for now. Firstly, I’m pretty sure that romantic entanglements require participation from both parties. Secondly, it does not surprise me in the least that I was a shit-disturber in my past life. That’s what I appreciate about Buddhism. There are consequences to your behaviour but there are also opportunities to try to be better the next time around. There isn’t forgiveness and you have to pay your dues. This is very comforting to someone with my temperament who gets into many a situation purely because of my need to know and feel. It makes me think a bit more before I act.

Buddhists precepts also promote the concept of impermanence. Inaccurate interpretations suggest that this is a way of withdrawing from the world. I disagree. I believe it’s just a tool to interact with society in a calm, balanced and composed way. Attachment and favouring your ego can cause unnecessary pain because it instills a fear of the unknown. When you give into uncertainty and reconcile with the fact that both pleasure and pain eventually subsides, everything is more bearable.

When all religions are wiped clean of all of the self-righteous excuses to define the “other” they are all beautiful. What is better than a set of codes to help cultivate kindness and be held accountable for your actions? It’s the extremists who scare the living daylights out of me. When you interpret scripture for the purposes of control and dominance you are doing no favors. You can keep your exclusive club membership because I don’t want it. I will not give you the satisfaction by admitting that I somehow need to be saved.

Religion also helps you make meaning when theory ends, when even Foucault could not help explain the causes. It helps you cope with the childhood cancers, grandparents starving five year olds, war and thirteen year old girls being raped and thrown off of moving trains. It helps you face the heavy, twisted shit that makes you cold and sick. When you are baffled how people and life can be so cruel.

I subscribe to the belief that an open heart is the most important tool for life. The Dalai Lama in “The Art of Happiness” helps to articulate this strategy. He provides examples of how different religions would approach certain predicaments. They are all valid and equal in his eyes. This type of flexibility is so needed in our present world when we are all about safeguarding countries and putting up walls. Fluidity provides more opportunities to listen, and with that at least there are more opportunities to learn.

Work

July 2, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

Whenever I want really nice things my husband quotes a Britney Spears song: “you better work, bitch.” Expletive included. Andrew, well really no one, is allowed to speak to me this way, but for the sake of art and Britney’s meaning from the word, I allow it. I figure she’s a survivor, if anyone’s able to call me a bitch it’s Britney. Because it’s valid you know, the majority of us have to earn those dolla dolla bills to have the finer things in life. I’ve never been ashamed of loving beautiful things, in fact I’m very much inspired by them. I understand the satisfaction that is fostered from seeing your blood, sweat and tears translated into something good. My immigrant parents have always instilled in me that there is no secret formula, it’s just hard work. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love for some pale blue boxes in white bows to show up at my front door.

My best friend K and I once casually mulled over how great it would be to have an allowance from our husbands and to not have to work. Several feminists are rolling their eyes as I write these words, literally saying, “are you kidding me?” I should be more precise, Second Wave feminists are frustrated at having marched with placards on the streets for me to utter such a statement, and Third Wave feminists allow me to feel whatever the hell I want. Nonetheless, they are probably all rolling their eyes a little. But the question is, who doesn’t want to have an unlimited amount of disposable income and choose how they spend their days? Just because we would occasionally be “ladies who lunch” doesn’t mean that we are also not achieving meaningful goals. It also doesn’t diminish our degrees from those fine educational institutions. There’s always a price to pay for the allowance anyways, because every single thing has a cost. Whether it comes in the form of never seeing your investment banker husband, having to report how exactly you spent his hard-earned money or having to mitigate the consequences of something not being good enough, the debt collector just arrives on different days. That life of leisure is not valued in society. We are unpaid and reduced to doing “nothing” and that’s not right either. I’m pretty sure that choice is a fundamental aspect of the politics I signed up for.

Therefore, I kind of appreciate that my husband wants me to work. I mean that’s what I ask for when I’m demanding some form of equality right? With that employment also comes a power, however small the paycheque, that no one can take away. It’s a form of leverage in the relationship. I just want all forms of work that we women perform to be counted.

Some people buy jewelry to signify that they’ve achieved their aspirations, other invest it in real estate. I’m planning on slowly but surely putting aside a portion of my income each month to buy a Celine purse. Lets ignore the fact that the Kardashians love them because if we held everything to that standard we wouldn’t be able to purchase a thing. The Celine baggage tote is truly beautiful, so well designed and constructed. The best part is that it’s relatively accessible, well, compared to Dior or Chanel anyways. I know that my husband would kill me in my sleep if I spent 5-10 thousand dollars on an accessory, so Celine it is. When I was recently in Paris I saw one in the department store Printemps and got actual heart palpitations. Andrew asked if I was going to touch it and I said no. I don’t feel it appropriate to touch anything at that level till I am good and ready to produce my credit card shortly thereafter. Just like you don’t enter a Chanel boutique in rubber flip flops, I’m willing to wait and work for it.

#Canadiana

June 30, 2014November 13, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

Upon arrival from Paris I knew I had landed in my home, within my nation, with my people because of the apologies. You’d be surprised the number of “sorrys” you hear from the time it takes you to disembark, walk on the flat escalators, and line up at customs. It’s a common stereotype that Canadians are polite, accommodating, and accepting and thank goodness that some of it is true. I would be nowhere without your rights, privileges and political freedom. As an immigrant I just want to thank you for being gentle with me, being kind to my family and allowing me to cultivate a sense of belonging.

Being a land of people from somewhere else, it’s as if we’re all figuring it out together. I’m not sure if I’m imagining this feeling of solidarity but Canada has earned her reputation because you allow all of us to co-exist with dignity and respect. My husband always asks me if it’s cold outside and I tell him not to ask because he knows that I’m an immigrant. If it doesn’t feel like a sauna, I will be wearing a jacket. Perhaps it’s because my mother made me wear thermal underwear well into April, but I’m perpetually cold. God, she continued to buy me thermal underwear well into my twenties. She used to tuck it into my luggage after Christmas break when I was about to return to Queen’s. You see, this is just the kind of stuff that immigrants do. But I appreciate that in my country you are not considered to be strange and crazy. If it’s not thermal underwear another newcomer is probably obsessing about wool toques. There’s comfort in that.

My parents were always strategic about my education and social circle. When we first moved to Toronto I attended a very diverse school in the downtown area where we learnt about Black History every week, not just once a year, young girls wore head scarves and we were the children of parents who worked way too hard. It is here that a teacher named Mr. Kennedy changed my life by encouraging me to write, attend enriched classes and told my parents to move to North Toronto. I still remember the moment when during a parent-teacher interview he literally wrote it down on a piece a paper: the “good” schools, having attended Lawrence Park CI himself. That’s the thing about my parents, they are the best. They packed our life into boxes, we moved to the neighbourhood and began a new phase in our life. I can never repay them for their sacrifices because these schools led me to my university, my friends, my life. That’s what makes Canada so special. It has raised a generation of people who have seen their parents create something from scarcity and difficult times. It’s not the immigrant story, many of our parents do the exact same thing.

I’m not only Canadian but a Torontoian, which in my mind is one of the best cities in the world. It’s here that there’s always something to do, people to meet, perspectives to change. So, as I leave you I just want to say, Toronto, you gave me my husband, my kid, my education. I love you and I’ll see you when I see you. Alright Boston, I’m game if you are.

Happy Canada Day.

Becoming Kate

June 18, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

I hate having such an unusual name. It’s a pain in the ass. Even at the age of 32 it is still a source of anxiety and it’s one that I can’t escape because it literally allows me to exist. This is the marker that signifies your relationship to the state through your citizenship, rights and privileges. It also impacts your personal life.

Having an identifier that is difficult to pronounce and spell has meant that I’ve never been able to graduate without whispering its correct pronunciation to the proctor. This name has further heightened the already existing tension of meeting new people and building networks. When I lived in Thailand for a year, many of the social interactions took place in bars. Most of my friends were expats but do you know how awkward it is to yell over the loud music and repeat my name for the umpteenth time? Then the questions about my background and the origins of the name begin, which yes can bring forth some great conversation, but it gets a bit old the twentieth time around.

All of these experiences influenced my decision to change it up a bit. A few years ago I was in a dressing room at Lululemon and they asked for my name to be written on the door. I replied “Kate” and with that the sales person smiled, spelt it correctly and told me to call her if I needed any assistance. There were no questions, no switching of letters, she was just on her merry way. For the first time I understood what the Jennifers of the world always get to feel. I was riding on a wave of ease and it was addictive. So I did it again. Over and over, at Starbucks, The Gap, Club Monaco, basically in any establishment which required this form of interaction.

The best way to rile up a graduate student is to bring up the word “normativity.” It is this process that people go on and on about for hundreds of pages trying to understand and challenge. We are trained to feel that there is nothing worse than to fall into the normative trap or to prescribe this existence for others. The creation of hard boundaries and characterizing individuals as deviants gets you kicked off the team. I’m just kidding, inclusivity is at the core of critical studies. You just get shamed and then kicked off the team. Obviously these theories are extremely important. I mean the world would still be unbearable without these contentions and the brave souls who are trying to slowly destabilize these systems. But you know what, it is also so incredibly appealing to be “normal.” The safety and comfort of fitting in is a situation that is hard to pull yourself out of. It’s hard to resurface. But who says everything has to be so difficult all of the time? If I’m going to fake it and pretend I might as well enjoy it. There is a threshold to all of this fun anyways because it is not possible to make this a legal reality. There would be far too many friends to tell, identification cards to change, aspects of my life to dismantle. I can never actually become Kate because I’m already someone else. That’s alright though. You can always play innocent games whenever you want.

Why the name Kate you might ask? What other name can make you think of fashionable, talented and interesting women in 5 seconds flat? Winslet, Bosworth, Mara, Middleton. They also have an air about them that is a bit reserved, calm and composed. I am not and will never be one of the Kate Hudsons of the world. You see, when I play dress-up I always use beautiful clothes.