Big questions on a big day

'Be the change that you wish to see in the world.' - Gandhi 

Today is International Women’s Day.

As a woman, a sister to a sister and a brother, a daughter to a mother and a father, a feminist, an advocate for women’s rights and someone who loves women and men, today is very important to me.

I feel incredible joy that I have had the opportunity to receive an education in two previously male-dominated fields, business and now public policy. I’ve had access to meaningful work and volunteer opportunities. I spent most of my twenties living in places where I could walk or bike around at any hour of the day or night safely.

I’ve enjoyed living and traveling alone and doing pretty much whatever I darn-well-please. 

My parents don’t care if I choose to have a partner or bear them grandchildren.

I don’t even consider my gender when getting into the driver’s seat of a car or casting a ballot.

A lot of the world doesn’t live this way. 

Even my grandmothers didn’t enjoy all of the freedoms that I do today.

I’m not saying that these privileges aren’t also things that every woman deserves or that I have never faced gender discrimination.

What I am saying is that I feel grateful for these privileges in light of our global context.

Now on to what this means for me today, on International Women’s Day. I believe that today is important, not just as a day on it’s own, but as a time to start reflecting and dialoguing on where we have come from, where we are and where we hope to go.

I say ‘we’ both in the collective sense and in the sense that ‘we’ are a world full of individuals. I believe that we too often make the marginalization of women and girls something that ‘someone else' does without first critically examining the role that each of us individually plays in a global system of gendered inequality.

 

Like many people living in South Africa, I have been thinking a lot about gender-based violence these past weeks. There have been two very high-profile femicide cases this month in South Africa. One involved a famous South African Olympic Athlete fatally shooting his girlfriend. The other was a gruesome gang-rape murder of a 17 year-old girl.

These two murders have pushed the issue of gender based violence in South Africa to the front of every newspaper, to the ‘breaking news’ on every newscast, and onto everyone’s lips – talk show hosts, university professors, discussion groups, the President in his State of the Nation Address… you get the picture.

Despite recent attention, gender based violence is not a new issue in South Africa. Every 6 seconds a rape is reported and every day, 3 women are murdered by her intimate partner. (South African Medical Research Council, 2012)

Despite being constantly on my mind, I have been hesitant to write about gender issues in a country where I am a foreigner.

I struggle with how gender inequality in the developing world is often portrayed and wonder if we often lose sight of the crux of the issue?

Patriarchy somehow becomes something that exists somewhere else, gender-based violence something that happens ‘over there’ and by ‘someone else’.  We don’t often critically examine how we interact with these systems in our own lives.

Here is an excerpt from a recent article in the Toronto star. While rightly covering an important and serious issue, I wonder what the writer was attempting with her sensationalism and finger-pointing.

‘As a woman in South Africa, you worry when you leave your house and you worry when you get home. You are never safe.

It is a violent, macho, testosterone-fuelled place. I visited for two weeks eight years ago and don’t want to go back. One bed-and-breakfast host pulled out a gun and another pulled out a giant knife. The hair on the back of my neck was in constant electric shock- mode. I felt safer in Pakistan.

What’s most worrying about South Africa’s violence to women is the general acceptance of it. Men are not ashamed of beating and raping women. Most husbands think that’s their right. And many women agree.’

Either way, Steenkamp’s gruesome story fits into the country’s damning narrative of men killing women. And in the court of social conscience, it provides yet another opportunity for South Africans to examine their misogyny.’

Not to diminish the writer’s experience, but does a 2-week visit to a country give an outsider the expertise to boil an issue down in the ‘court of social conscience’ to a country being full of misogynists?

I agree that gender based violence is a major issue that requires significant attention, but wonder what the international portrayal of a place as scary and woman-hating aims to accomplish?

Every day, week and month I spend here unveils more complexity in what previously seemed straight-forward issues to me.

Instead of focusing on gender based violence and the marginalization of women and girls as something that happens ‘in Africa’, ‘in THAT neighbourhood’ or ‘next door’, I think we need to take a deeper look at the issue instead of ‘other-izing’ it.

Protest against GBV at UCT

A few weeks ago I attended a protest at the University of Cape Town. Thousands of people attended, classes were cancelled and the vice-chancellor, professors and students took to the podium.

The vice chancellor caught me off guard.

He challenged us to question what we were protesting and to start by examining ourselves. To start by examining how we with our thoughts, actions and words play into a system of patriarchy.

This is much more difficult to do than to raise a fist against a monstrous perpetrator.

Horrendous inequalities between men and women exist all over the globe, in different ways and with varied severities.  Marginalization of women and girls exists in the very fabric of our societies and affects us all. So why do we so rarely examine our own actions and how they perpetrate an unacceptable status quo?

For me, International Women’s day provides us with a starting point to do this.

What about my actions?

I have engaged in small talk with other women and men about how a woman is dressed ‘too’ revealingly.

I have remained silent when others use condescending language towards women, or the word ‘rape’ to describe what happens on the sports field.

I have doubted myself and other women’s thoughts and abilities and normalized behaviours that are not acceptable.

I’ve silenced other women and undermined their experiences.

Although I have a significant amount of privilege, I don’t always use my voice.

I’ve blamed others without first exploring my role.

What I have done is not ok, even if society says so.

Today, I pledge to try to be better.

I believe that perpetrators of gender based violence and femicide SHOULD be held to account.  Issues should be discussed, debated and put in the news. Movements of individuals standing up against issues affecting women are powerful and I fully support them.

Within this, lets also try to do something powerful within ourselves:

Let us consider our love for each other, our love for women, our love for ourselves. And if we do indeed have that love, as I believe is natural in humans, let’s take a look at our actions.

How might we perpetuate a system that marginalizes over half of the world’s population and how we can interrupt it?

Let’s commit to doing better for the women we love and women around the world. And let’s start with ourselves. 

Arriving in Cape Town: Broken toes, tin-can cars and how we inevitably journey forward

“Life goes on, unmindful of beginning, end…crisis or catharsis, moving forward like a slow, dusty caravan of kochis (nomads).” - Khaled Hosseini

I’ve been in Cape Town a few weeks now and have been very bad at keeping my commitment to start blogging again.

I usually choose my posts by picking a topic that has been prominent in my life, then writing about my thoughts surrounding it. This post is rather less profound and more an odds-and-ends overview of my arrival and and settling in here. 

After years of figuring out how to move here and 2 years of anticipation, to finally arrive seems like the most natural thing in the world. Things seem almost too easy after working and saving so hard for this next step. It seems as though moving forward sometimes happens with great intention and struggle. Other-times things happen so naturally that we barely notice our movement at all. 

Arriving in CT

I arrived in this stunning city, excitedly but without event or incident after travelling overland from Malawi (accompanied by my wonderful friend Ms. Bolen). What has happened since has been a natural progression in getting settled into a new life.

Beautiful Ms. Bolen at the Cape of Good Hope

One of the first things that strikes after the beauty of the city and the warm Rotary welcome, is that things are relatively easy for me here. Keep in mind that I’m living in one specific region of the Western Cape province, arguably one of the most developed areas of South Africa. I also carry a significant amount of privilege being an international student from Canada and through incredible support from Rotary. There is a lot of ease in my experience that many others in South Africa don’t have.

When I say ‘easy’, I mean that things seem to happen relatively on time and without struggle. Fuel is always available and water, power (for the most part) and internet are reliable. There is also an amazing selection of places to go and things to do, see and eat. I also haven’t encountered any language barriers.

View from the back porch

I have found a place to live for the time being. Although not ideally located near school or downtown, I walk out onto the street in the morning and look at a mountain looming in front of me. Sitting on the back porch, I have a stunning view of the ocean and the boats in the harbor. Pretty amazing!

In other news, I’ve bought a car. Although I’ve been driving for 10 years, this is the first time I own transport that is not a bicycle. 

I usually opt to bike, walk or take public transpo but this is a sprawling city and the public transport infrastructure isn’t great. After a year of nights sitting in gated compounds in Malawi or waiting on expensive taxis, I decided to bite the bullet and buy a cheap little hatchback 'tin can' to bop around town. 

Driving to the place where I’m currently sitting, I’m sure I stalled over 20 times, mostly on hills or in intersections. Driving manual takes some getting used to, but this is part of the learning process. I am keeping a little room in my budget for a new clutch :-P

Matimati (Chichewa word for 'tomato') and I :-P

I also broke my big toe a few weeks ago in a very under-dramatic fall.  Things are healing relatively well and I have learned that Cape Town and campus aren’t all that bad barefoot. In fact, I’ve noticed many able-footed bohemian types opting to go barefoot. 

Classes began a few weeks ago after a pretty intensive but uneventful registration process. Sitting in the first few lectures, I quite frequently felt my heart brimming over with joy.

We are talking about uncontrollable, eyes-welled-up type of joy here!

I am ecstatic to be back to school and in Cape Town. What a fascinating place and time to be studying. Looking around the classroom, I often get the feeling that some of my classmates will take on leadership roles and be part of the futures of their respective countries. 

Having been out of school for 6 years and having only studied business, this is all a bit intimidating. I’m worried about keeping up but am excited for new challenges, lots of learning and hopefully some growth thrown into the mix.  

Signing off broken-toed and happy!

Moving to South Africa - My 'What', 'Why' and 'How'

One day, a few years back, I was chatting with my Aunt’s partner during a family visit. I was researching places to study outside of Canada and we discussed Cape Town at length (he is originally from South Africa). As we parted ways, he clapped his warm, heavy hand on my shoulder, smiled and said ‘Girl, you’ve gotta get yourself to Cape Town!’

This was the moment I first knew I would go to South Africa. I have been asked many versions of the ‘why are doing what you’re doing?’ question so I thought I would dedicate a post to the story of how it started and how and why I’ve come to move to Cape Town.   

University of Cape Town Middle/Upper Campus

I began working full time when I was 21 and would dread receiving my annual pension statement. A pension is a very privileged thing to have, but when you have been working for 5 years and still have 30 to go, it can be a bit daunting. Despite this, I was fascinated by the workings of government and loved working in both strategy and international relations.

It never crossed my mind that I would want to go back to school after finishing my bachelor degree. I had studied business because I thought it would be practical – not because I was particularly excited by the topic. After a couple of years of working, I began to feel an increasing urge to study something that fascinated me.  

At the same time, I was volunteering at the city’s local AIDS Service Organization and was exposed to social justice advocacy. I was excited to see passionate people working to benefit their communities and it felt great to get involved with an issue that I thought to be fundamentally important. At the same time, I was appalled to learn that there is oftentimes a link between HIV and marginalization. I became curious about if this link exists in other regions, especially ones where HIV is endemic. I wanted to get involved further with development and social development initiatives.

Enter Rotary International.

I grew up hearing about Rotary from my parent’s close friends, Bob and Mary Jean. I loved the concept of ‘Service above self’ and the goal of the Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship program, which funds students to study in different parts of the world with an aim to promote world peace through intercultural understanding.

I applied unsuccessfully 2 years in a row for the scholarship. The second year, the Rotary Club of Ottawa provided me with two mentors and sent me to the district finals. Although I wasn’t selected, the mentorship provided me with clarity in terms of the direction I wanted to take.

Through working for the government, I knew that I wanted to study public policy and administration. My passion for HIV work made me want to study public policy through a health and social justice lens. After researching schools and locations, I went to Cape Town on a volunteer project to see what the city was like and to check out the University.

This time was arguably the best five weeks of my life and I knew I wanted to return. It is a beautiful, diverse country with a degree of complexity that I can't begin to understand. I am fascinated with this place and find myself reflecting on myself and country of origin in the context of what I learn here. Cape Town also happens to be one of the most stunning cities I have ever seen with a fantastic University.

Cape Town 

I started saving vigorously and was accepted into the University of Cape Town to study public policy and administration. When my mentors recommended that I apply a third time to be an Ambassadorial Scholar, I had nothing to lose. This time, I was fortunate enough to get the scholarship and get placed at the University of Cape Town!

Since I had a year before the scholarship year started, I deferred by studies and moved to Malawi to volunteer for the year. While there, I became more passionate about issues of social justice, health and marginalization and even more excited about the Ambassadorial scholar program.

The Scholarship has a number of requirements that are completely in line with things that I love doing anyways. Scholars are required to (in addition to school, of course) visit Rotary Clubs and give presentations, get involved with community service projects, and share about their experiences when they return home. The idea is that scholars should serve as ‘Ambassadors of Goodwill’ from the Rotary Club, District and region that they are coming from. In my case, I’m coming from the Rotary Club of Ottawa, in District 7040 which includes parts of Canada and the United States.

At the risk of going on a tangent, I’m not a cultural minimalist. I’ve tried to be one, but ultimately I believe that circumstance, location and culture can oftentimes be factors that lead us to believe that we as human beings are separate from one another. In acknowledging this, I see immense value in programs offered by the Rotary Foundation to further intercultural understanding.  In her writings on her experience as an exchange student in Thailand, Karen Connelly says:

‘I’d like to believe – and I sometimes do – that every boundary between people can be crossed, that we are connected to each other by invisible bonds that override distance. My skin stretches over the earth.'

I think that programs such as the Ambassadorial Scholarship Program offered by the Rotary Foundation can and do build these bridges. Although not necessarily quantifiable, I believe that these bridges have immense value in our world.

After a year in Malawi and only a week into my studies, the program has already changed my life. 

A (kind of) new chapter - moving to Cape Town

Camps Bay, CT

It rained twice in the five glorious weeks that constituted my introduction to Cape Town – the day I arrived and the day I left.

It has been almost two years since I left that beautiful city - a sufficient amount of time to erode the crispness of fresh memory.

When I think of those sweet weeks of growth and exploration, Cape Town feels like a reverie of something akin to warm light. I remember sunrises and the sensation a plethora of small pistons igniting my mind and spirit.

Fish Hoek

Now I’m moving there. Sitting in the Frankfurt airport, I keep checking my passport. Page 14 displays a study visa that will allow me to live as a student in South Africa.

I’m headed first to Malawi where I lived last year. I will then travel overland to South Africa with my dear friend Andrea.

Stay tuned!

Penguins, Boulder's Bay

Returning Differently

Soon I’ll be off to a different country on a different adventure.

I have a mindset that doesn't serve me well - adventures occur when I go to places or have experiences that are different or new to me. It then logically follows that familiar places and lived experiences are somehow ‘normal’, right?

A few times I have sat anxious on a landing airplane, nervous about what I would experience when I set foot in a foreign land.

This natural spike of adrenaline coupled with the expectation of a new experience has helped me to navigate these adventures.

Operating from this framework, going back to Ontario, Canada (the most familiar place in the world for me) was surprisingly more challenging than I expected. Everything felt relatively the same - except for me.

It is one thing to be obviously foreign, an easily identifiable outsider based on language, accent and appearance. It is a complete other experience to feel foreign in the place where you’re from.

Canada was a different type of adventure - an internal one set against a familiar landscape.

Don’t get me wrong, it was wonderful to be home!  While travelling to Canada I burst into tears a number of times out of sheer excitement and a sweet feeling of familiarity.

On the flight from Frankfurt to Toronto, I heard people making announcements in my accent and was overjoyed to watch a movie in Canadian French. The man sitting beside me was from Calgary in all his plaid flannel shirt, handlebar mustache glory and went out of his way to help me with my carry on.

I adored being in a racially diverse crowd of people waiting to board the aircraft. Most of us held passports that like mine bear shiny gold letters that spell ‘CANADA’.

I was greeted by smiling parents who showered me with comfort things – cheese, chocolate, warm clothes. I enjoyed the company of many beautiful friends and family members.

Mom welcoming me home - complete with cheese platter!

Beautiful gift and meal from Elsa

Despite all this, I found myself feeling overwhelmed with a completely new and indescribable feeling. Not being able to put thoughts and feelings into words is incredibly frustrating for me. How could I understand and express that something inside of me has shifted, that I don’t know my different self at home, the very place where I’m from?

Malawi turned the world upside for me and stepping back into my motherland didn’t turn it back.

I know much less now, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

A few days after arriving home, I wrote:

‘Everything is so fast. Blazing by so quickly, I can observe the intensity but fail to capture any warmth that this rat race might emit.

Friends and family have been small oases scattered amidst this chaos. They are eager to listen to the fragments of my experience that I can muster words for.

I was worried about questions wanting neat, packaged answers. I have been lucky to have few. Instead I'm receiving patience and acceptance.  

They also allow for the silence that expresses the spaces I feel so acutely, silence more expressive than any words I can string together.’

Thanks to family and friends for all the love that was offered to me while home. 

Thanks also to those who gave me hope through their donations and interest in development initiatives in Malawi. 

Nugget getting carried in Chitenje

Friends

Friends

Dad on Christmas

Sister! Christmas Day

Brother :) Christmas Day