I don't think anyone reads blog posts anymore, which may well be for the best. But the words needed out of my head, so here they are.
I've stepped back a bit from the body positivity/fat activism fight over the last few years. There are a few reasons, I suspect. Fatigue, imposter syndrome from being a smaller fat, and getting myself involved in a community that has barely started down the body diversity path. I've been trying to ignore the body shame, trying to pretend I'm not affected by this stuff, possibly trying to pass as a thin person (self delusion FTW!). But a few things over recent months have reminded me that I am indeed seen as fat (duh!), and that fat is always seen as less than.
Fat shaming is endemic in the burner community. It's a community well endowed with conventionally beautiful people, and a strong culture of self expression through clothing, which largely reinforces conventional beauty standards. It's not a nasty community though, so most of the fat shaming is framed as self deprecation. That doesn't help. Standing next to me in your size 8 dress telling me how awful it is that your belly got ever so slightly bigger over Christmas is much more of an attack on me than it is on you. If you're disgusted by that little bump, imagine how you'd feel being me? And I am a smallfat right now, so imagine how you feel about bigger bodies? The proportion of fat folks amongst burners is significantly lower than the general population, which is no surprise given how intensely becoming a part of this community has triggered a lot of my body image issues. You've got to be pretty bullet proof to withstand both the explicit and implicit body shame, and I am not that well armoured, despite my best efforts.
The close cousin of body shame, body pity, also deserves a shout out. In a lot of ways, I am judged a "Good Fat" - I exercise regularly and eat pretty well and have generally been blessed with good health (dicky ticker aside). Therefore I get a bit of sympathy for being stuck with this inferior body. I manage to (sometimes) avoid being blamed for my body, but it certainly isn't celebrated. If the world was fair, clearly I would have a body that conformed to society's ideal. What my body can do, how well it works, how effective its immune system is - none of that means a thing, because it's all packaged in the wrong shape. That adipose tissue around my middle and at the top of my thighs renders everything else about my body irrelevant.
And that "Good Fat" thing? It's utter bullshit. I exercise because I've done the cost benefit analysis, and what I get out of it is worth what I put into it (despite it failing to make me sufficiently palatable to the conventional gaze), not because of some moral fortitude. Those whose calculations come out otherwise are not morally inferior. My (mostly) good health is (mostly) good luck. Consistent exercise has improved my immune system, but there's a fair whack of good luck in that too. Health is not a moral issue.
I've been giving in to the shame and pity for a while now, but the anger is returning. I've always said that I'm too lazy to carry on being angry for very long, and that's probably part of why I stopped for a while. I don't know how long I'll be able to sustain this round of it. But right now, the world can go fuck itself with its narrow, boring beauty standards. I've watched them hurting people I love for long enough, and one of those people is me.
There's a bunch of my identities that society disparages to a greater or lesser degree - female, queer, poly, kinky - but fat is the one that's hardest to have pride in. Where's my fatty rainbow flag? Where's my banner to fight under? 'Cos I'm ready to start fighting again.
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Wednesday, February 01, 2017
Writing round in circles
Worth comes from within Our value doesn't depend on the validation of others
Bullshit
We are social creatures We don't even really exist without the validation of others. If I am worthless to the people around me What's the point in me believing in my worth? But, I hear you say, people get it wrong! People fail to see the worth in others And it's true Not all kinds of worth are as easily seen But that doesn't mean it isn't there So we look within and try to build ourselves alone Try to pretend we're self contained and don't need those flawed eyes to reflect ourselves back to us.
Some people can do it. Some people build great towers of self worth and self belief. Their beauty shines out strong and folks all around come near to share it Or folks get angry that they've found beauty and worth they couldn't see before But either way they have defined themselves, and show the world they don't need it to tell them they matter
Some people can't do it. Some people tie themselves in knots, wondering if this is worth, or self delusion They doubt they have any beauty to shine, and maybe they're right. Folks don't even see them. Because if they mattered they'd be able to show the world, like those others do.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Happy New Year!
2016 has inspired a whole lot of "well wasn't that shit" kind of commentary, and it's pretty easy to agree. The anthropomorphic personification carrying a scythe has been busy this year. Apart from the extensively discussed famous folks, I've sadly been to the funerals of some people who left the world poorer for their departure.
As I didn't set a word for 2016, I'm going to give it one retrospectively - change. Globally, I think we're seeing the pain of change playing out. Times are changing. Our economic system is on its last legs. Our legal system is unable to reflect justice meaningfully in many areas. Our political systems have become so inbred that virtually no-one, anywhere has much faith in any of its actors. Wealth distribution is at breaking point. The environment is on a knife edge. Large swathes of people have recognised that our society is built on oppression. We need change, but change hurts. The powerful few are fighting with all their vast resources to stop it. They're exploiting our natural fear of change, and combining it with a fear of the other to create a backlash against it and protect their privilege. The backlash is dangerous, and plenty of smarter people than me have written about how history teaches us we can't ignore it and hope it will go away. Left unchecked, it could end catastrophically. Globally speaking, 2017 isn't going to be better, it's going to be a fight for the future. I am hopeful, but only if we take the threat seriously.
Personally, 2016 has also been about change. I've started the process of dealing with old, old issues that keep hijacking my brain and making me respond to situations in utterly dysfunctional ways. I've continued trying to navigate life without the heteronormative scripts of Straight and Monogamous that don't apply to me, but in lots of ways I'd been following for a long time anyway because... well I'm lazy and it's the path of least resistance. But it's not who I am, and I want my kids to grow up knowing there are lots of options. There is no One True Way to live and love. We all need to find our own. Then love brings about its own change, providing both the strength and motivation for facing the pain that comes with any change that actually matters.
At midnight tonight I won't be hoping for 2017 to be better than 2016, I'll be bracing myself for the work that's still to be done, in both the public and private spheres. But behind it there is hope that the work won't be in vain. That we complete the changes that have spooked us, and that we'll chop off the heads (figuratively speaking) of those trying to sacrifice our future for their power.
Through it all, there is the immense gratitude I feel for the people I love. You are everything, and the only reason for existence. I hope 2017 brings the rewards for the work I know more than a few of you have been doing. I hope we can be each other's strength, too.
To facing 2017 with strength and kindness!
As I didn't set a word for 2016, I'm going to give it one retrospectively - change. Globally, I think we're seeing the pain of change playing out. Times are changing. Our economic system is on its last legs. Our legal system is unable to reflect justice meaningfully in many areas. Our political systems have become so inbred that virtually no-one, anywhere has much faith in any of its actors. Wealth distribution is at breaking point. The environment is on a knife edge. Large swathes of people have recognised that our society is built on oppression. We need change, but change hurts. The powerful few are fighting with all their vast resources to stop it. They're exploiting our natural fear of change, and combining it with a fear of the other to create a backlash against it and protect their privilege. The backlash is dangerous, and plenty of smarter people than me have written about how history teaches us we can't ignore it and hope it will go away. Left unchecked, it could end catastrophically. Globally speaking, 2017 isn't going to be better, it's going to be a fight for the future. I am hopeful, but only if we take the threat seriously.
Personally, 2016 has also been about change. I've started the process of dealing with old, old issues that keep hijacking my brain and making me respond to situations in utterly dysfunctional ways. I've continued trying to navigate life without the heteronormative scripts of Straight and Monogamous that don't apply to me, but in lots of ways I'd been following for a long time anyway because... well I'm lazy and it's the path of least resistance. But it's not who I am, and I want my kids to grow up knowing there are lots of options. There is no One True Way to live and love. We all need to find our own. Then love brings about its own change, providing both the strength and motivation for facing the pain that comes with any change that actually matters.
At midnight tonight I won't be hoping for 2017 to be better than 2016, I'll be bracing myself for the work that's still to be done, in both the public and private spheres. But behind it there is hope that the work won't be in vain. That we complete the changes that have spooked us, and that we'll chop off the heads (figuratively speaking) of those trying to sacrifice our future for their power.
Through it all, there is the immense gratitude I feel for the people I love. You are everything, and the only reason for existence. I hope 2017 brings the rewards for the work I know more than a few of you have been doing. I hope we can be each other's strength, too.
To facing 2017 with strength and kindness!
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Word for 2017
I don't think I managed a word for this year. If I did, I failed to remember it. I want a word for 2017. I'm trying to fix some long standing broken bits in my brain, so having a focus seems.... helpful. I've been pondering for a while, and this evening it made itself apparent.
Kindness
Kindness directed outwards. The world is going to need every scrap of kindness it can get in the coming year, and any tiny way in which I can contribute is worth it.
Kindness directed inwards. This is... challenging. The hardest part of seeing the pshrink is being told to be kind to myself. My brain kind of goes into revolt every time she says it. I suspect that's not how it should be.
So kindness it is. And putting it here might help me actually remember it.
Kindness
Kindness directed outwards. The world is going to need every scrap of kindness it can get in the coming year, and any tiny way in which I can contribute is worth it.
Kindness directed inwards. This is... challenging. The hardest part of seeing the pshrink is being told to be kind to myself. My brain kind of goes into revolt every time she says it. I suspect that's not how it should be.
So kindness it is. And putting it here might help me actually remember it.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Desegregation of Education
Well, since I've found the blog, rearranged the furniture and repaired the electrics, I guess I may as well use it.
This article was posted on a friend's wall, with much ensuing discussion.
Been musing on it for a while.
I disagree that changing the language is going to help much, because the problem is a segregation mindset, and a system that is based entirely on segregation. I think that mindset is more tenacious than a change of language can fix (although I fully recognise the power of language).
We have a schooling model that separates out different kinds of kids according to arbitrary parameters - medical diagnosis, performance on a test, ability in some specific area at age 12, parents' income. We then train teachers to deal with only subsets of these groups. There is a total focus on categorisation, usually done pretty poorly anyway.
The problem is, attempts to move more kids into the mainstream in the past have largely been based on grand gestures, without any changes to the way schools work, the mindset of segregation, or making sure that the right resources are available for all kids. So people have become wary of "mainstreaming", but it doesn't have to be this way.
We need to change the way we view education. There needs to be more teachers in classrooms - like at least 2 in every full class of 30. Classes need to be made up based on the way the kids work together, not ability levels or random draws. And all teachers need to frame their approach to students as finding the kid where they are, and showing them how to get to where they need to be next. Sometimes that may indeed require another teacher with skills specific to this child. Sometimes it may require another teacher who isn't triggered by this particular kid's behaviour. That's why teaching needs to be collaborative, not just in the staffroom but in the classroom.
Further on down the line then, segregation falls apart too. If kids sit in classrooms with kids of all types, then they get to appreciate that everyone brings their own strengths and weaknesses. When they are considering employing someone, they will consider the whole range of folks, instead of only those who they found themselves categorised with. Changing schools may not be enough in and of itself to break down segregation, but it's always a bloody good start.
This article was posted on a friend's wall, with much ensuing discussion.
Been musing on it for a while.
I disagree that changing the language is going to help much, because the problem is a segregation mindset, and a system that is based entirely on segregation. I think that mindset is more tenacious than a change of language can fix (although I fully recognise the power of language).
We have a schooling model that separates out different kinds of kids according to arbitrary parameters - medical diagnosis, performance on a test, ability in some specific area at age 12, parents' income. We then train teachers to deal with only subsets of these groups. There is a total focus on categorisation, usually done pretty poorly anyway.
The problem is, attempts to move more kids into the mainstream in the past have largely been based on grand gestures, without any changes to the way schools work, the mindset of segregation, or making sure that the right resources are available for all kids. So people have become wary of "mainstreaming", but it doesn't have to be this way.
We need to change the way we view education. There needs to be more teachers in classrooms - like at least 2 in every full class of 30. Classes need to be made up based on the way the kids work together, not ability levels or random draws. And all teachers need to frame their approach to students as finding the kid where they are, and showing them how to get to where they need to be next. Sometimes that may indeed require another teacher with skills specific to this child. Sometimes it may require another teacher who isn't triggered by this particular kid's behaviour. That's why teaching needs to be collaborative, not just in the staffroom but in the classroom.
Further on down the line then, segregation falls apart too. If kids sit in classrooms with kids of all types, then they get to appreciate that everyone brings their own strengths and weaknesses. When they are considering employing someone, they will consider the whole range of folks, instead of only those who they found themselves categorised with. Changing schools may not be enough in and of itself to break down segregation, but it's always a bloody good start.
Monday, October 17, 2016
Faces of Depression
Depression is a slippery thing. It looks different for different people. It sometimes feels to me that it's treated as a much more uniform thing than it is.
This post would probably be better as a piece of carefully written poetry, but sadly I am no poet and I suspect it would just end up sounding like some angsty teenager who's read too many badly written teen romances. So this is just a description of how depression feels for me. For no reason other than the words seem to need to get out of my head.
Depression doesn't slowly build for me, it hits me like a ton of bricks. Still, it's not triggered by only one thing. Lots of things will slowly erode my defences, and then one carefully aimed kick will just break me. It doesn't happen very often, it takes a pretty unique set of circumstances to make it happen - a bit like an airline crash.
It feels like sadness, emptiness and worthlessness.
It's listening to a poem with the lines:
And with all the emotion comes weariness. All I want to do is sleep. Often all I can do is sleep. I have obligations that need to be met, so I go out into the world to take the kids where they need to go, to do the work, but I barely manage the requisite social interactions.
I'm invisible when I'm broken. I can't be helpful or useful, so I almost cease to exist. I can be having a conversation with someone and they just sort of drift away in the middle of it, like they forgot I was there. I guess that's probably because I don't feel like I'm there.
To get back out of it, I have to fix it. Sometimes that means working out exactly what the kick was, sometimes I know what it was, and I just need to Spakfilla over the damage. But finding the motivation to do the fixing is hard. If I want to be visible again, I need to be useful and helpful again. I need the Spakfilla to set and make me strong enough to absorb the next kick and not break. But it can be hard to convince myself the world actually wants me back anyway. It carries on perfectly well without me.
Whether the world wants me back or not, eventually the need for human connection will drive me to fix myself enough to be useful enough to maybe be worthy enough of the world. It's happened every time before, and it will happen again.
In lieu of poetry, here's some Garbage lyrics.
"Fix Me Now"
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Bury me above the clouds
All the way from here
Take away the things I need
Take away my fear
Hide me in a hollow sound
Happy evermore
Everything I had to give
Gave out long before
Fix me now I wish you would (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should (Fix me now)
From hollow into light
Crashing silent broken down
Falling into night
Who gave up an who gave in
I'll go without a fight
Cut me down or cut me dead
Cut me in or out
Kiss me blind time after time
Take away my doubt
Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now I wish you would} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Kiss me blind somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into light
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Nowhere only down from here
Pick me off the floor
Take away the things I dream
One time one place one more
Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into
Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into light
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day.
This post would probably be better as a piece of carefully written poetry, but sadly I am no poet and I suspect it would just end up sounding like some angsty teenager who's read too many badly written teen romances. So this is just a description of how depression feels for me. For no reason other than the words seem to need to get out of my head.
Depression doesn't slowly build for me, it hits me like a ton of bricks. Still, it's not triggered by only one thing. Lots of things will slowly erode my defences, and then one carefully aimed kick will just break me. It doesn't happen very often, it takes a pretty unique set of circumstances to make it happen - a bit like an airline crash.
It feels like sadness, emptiness and worthlessness.
It's listening to a poem with the lines:
Am I enough?and tearing up because I'm pretty sure I know what the answer is.
Am I enough?
Am I enough?
And with all the emotion comes weariness. All I want to do is sleep. Often all I can do is sleep. I have obligations that need to be met, so I go out into the world to take the kids where they need to go, to do the work, but I barely manage the requisite social interactions.
I'm invisible when I'm broken. I can't be helpful or useful, so I almost cease to exist. I can be having a conversation with someone and they just sort of drift away in the middle of it, like they forgot I was there. I guess that's probably because I don't feel like I'm there.
To get back out of it, I have to fix it. Sometimes that means working out exactly what the kick was, sometimes I know what it was, and I just need to Spakfilla over the damage. But finding the motivation to do the fixing is hard. If I want to be visible again, I need to be useful and helpful again. I need the Spakfilla to set and make me strong enough to absorb the next kick and not break. But it can be hard to convince myself the world actually wants me back anyway. It carries on perfectly well without me.
Whether the world wants me back or not, eventually the need for human connection will drive me to fix myself enough to be useful enough to maybe be worthy enough of the world. It's happened every time before, and it will happen again.
In lieu of poetry, here's some Garbage lyrics.
"Fix Me Now"
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Bury me above the clouds
All the way from here
Take away the things I need
Take away my fear
Hide me in a hollow sound
Happy evermore
Everything I had to give
Gave out long before
Fix me now I wish you would (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should (Fix me now)
From hollow into light
Crashing silent broken down
Falling into night
Who gave up an who gave in
I'll go without a fight
Cut me down or cut me dead
Cut me in or out
Kiss me blind time after time
Take away my doubt
Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now I wish you would} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Kiss me blind somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into light
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Nowhere only down from here
Pick me off the floor
Take away the things I dream
One time one place one more
Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into
Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into light
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Things don't have to be this way
Catch me on a better day.
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
Comparative Review: Shangri-La Fijian vs Sheraton Denarau
We've just come back from a much needed "Stop the world, I want to get off" holiday in Fiji. It was awesome, and we've all returned with a therapeutic infusion of bliss which should get us through the next few months at least. This is ipa long winded review for the edification and amusement of anyone with sufficient stamina considering a Fiji holiday, and also for my own reference in 3 or 4 years' time when we can afford another tropical holiday and I'm trying to decide where to go.
We stayed at the Shangri-la Fijian, on the Coral Coast, about an hour south of Nadi for 9 nights. In 2011, we stayed at the Sheraton Villas Denarau, about 20mins from Nadi airport for the same length of time. They both have their pros & cons which I'm going to ramble on about.
Location
The Fijian wins this hands down. Yanuca Island is beautiful. Full water views from pretty much every room - either of the reef and the ocean or of the lagoon between the island and the mainland. All of it is fabulous blue & turquoise, no muddy swamps. (There are muddy swamps cleaning the water, but they are not near the rooms.)
The island is big enough that it doesn't feel crowded. I ran every second day, and could find space to run where I only passed a few staff each time. There is snorkelling right off the beach - not spectacular coral or anything, but a peaceful lagoon with reef rocks, plants and fish. Not great for little kids though, because there's quite a current. It's more disconcerting than dangerous, but it's not like snorkelling off an island further off the coast.
is dark green with a muddy/sandy bottom. It's been around long enough that the gardens are established, and very well looked after, but there's no snorkelling there and the pools are much more attractive swimming options than the beach. It also feels a lot more crowded, with lots of resorts all in a line, all pretty full most of the time. The two advantages it has are its proximity to Nadi airport & access to reef islands. It's nice not to have travel too far once you've waited in the interminable immigration queue (and possibly had to play hide & seek for your luggage) and finally arrived in Fiji proper. The island day cruises all leave from the marina on Denarau, so if you want to do one of those from the coral coast, you'll have an hour bus trip at both ends of the day.
Rooms
This one goes to the Sheraton in spades. The Villas were built comparatively recently, and the adjoining rooms are spacious and sensibly arranged. You get a minimalist kitchen and quite big lounge room in one room, with a huge bedroom with king bed and acceptable bathroom (but without a bath tub). The other room has twin doubles and its own bathroom. The beds are super comfortable.There is also an antechamber with a locked door that accesses both rooms, so you only need one key to get in. You can also lock the inner doors, so you can lock your kids out if you want to! There are ceiling fans, and quiet air conditioners. Each room has its own TV with a DVD player. They are light and airy rooms and feel fresh and well maintained.
The Fijian is an old resort, opened in the 70s. It's been renovated, but it's still an old school resort. Adjoining rooms have interconnecting doors, but separate keys that only open one of the two rooms. We got locked out once because the cleaners closed the interconnecting door into the kids' room (which can only be opened from the kids' room) and we had only taken keys to our room. It took an hour to get someone to come and open the door. No ceiling fans, and the air conditioners are old and noisy (although it was possible to muck around with the fan settings to alleviate that a bit - they weren't too bad, but clearly worse than the Sheraton ones). If you book adjoining rooms, they must both have the same bed configuration. You either get two rooms with twin beds, or two rooms with king beds, which is ridiculous. The beds are ok, but not as comfy as the Villas. The bathrooms do have tubs though and are quite spacious. All the rooms have balconies. There are no DVD players, which stunned me for what is billed as a family resort. However, the TVs have HDMI inputs, so if you take a laptop and the appropriate cable, that's a solvable issue.
It's important to note that I am really only talking about the Sheraton Villas here, the main Sheraton resort has rooms not entirely dissimilar to the Fijian, although they are bigger. I'm not discussing that one in detail though, because we stayed there in 2001, and I don't remember the details and it could have changed anyway. However, most of the rest of the info is relevant to both places, because it is all regarded as one resort from the guest's perspective and you can use the facilities from both of them (and another one as well).
Food
Another pretty clear category, the Fijian's food was generally a class well above that of the Sheraton. Food in Fiji is perhaps not as sophisticated as in other places that have Sheraton and Shangri-La resorts, so you'll see a lot of complaining about the food on travel websites for both places. However, I found the food at the Fijian to be consistently what I expected and at the very least at the level of top quality pub food. The Sheraton, however, was pretty ordinary unless you go to one of the super expensive restaurants. For example, the poached eggs at the breakfast buffet were pretty much inedible. The Japanese place was really good, but pricey. I should note, though, that on Denarau there are some non-resort places to eat that are fine, and cheaper than the resort.
The one exception is the booze. The Sheraton has a wider variety available, and different bars & restaurants have some different options. The Fijian has one limited list which is available everywhere, except for the places where even less is available. There is nowhere on Yanuca Island to buy your own, whereas on Denarau there is a general store that sells a good range at only moderately inflated prices. Cocktails are much more expensive than they used to be, because of a tax imposed only on resorts, which is something of the order of FJ$6.00 per drink, or possibly per nip? I can't remember the details and can't find anything online to tell me, but it was announced in the budget that was brought down when we were there in 2011.
Facilities & Service
This one is all a bit murky. Generally speaking, the Sheraton probably wins it, but it really depends on what you care about. The overall feel of the place is better at the Sheraton. As Mr11 put it, there's something about it that feels really special which isn't quite there at the Fijian. It's probably about the gardens and general presentation, but I can't quite put my finger on it either. There are 4 very different swimming pools the kids can use at the Sheraton, which is all of them - they don't have an adults only pool. There are only 2 pools the kids can use at the Fijian, plus a pretty dull adults' pool. There is no swim up bar at the Fijian, and there is one or two at the Sheraton. All of the pools at the Sheraton are better than all of the pools at the Fijian. There is also pool-side service at the Sheraton, but not at the Fijian - you have to get up off your arse and go wait at the bar. For me, that mostly meant I spent a lot less on alcohol, so it's possibly a questionable business decision.
On the other hand, games in and out of the pool are organised by staff morning and afternoon at the Fijian and nothing much like that happens at the Sheraton. Lots of kids and adults join in, including my sport averse family. We played the pool basketball (run every day), but there was also beach volleyball, and softball, soccer and cricket on the grass. It's all extremely relaxed, with minimal rules and generally run in the spirit of everyone having a good time.
The kids' club at the Sheraton is abysmal, and my kids refused to attend. Apparently the one at the Fijian is much better (as reported by other kids to my kids), but scarred by their experience at the Sheraton, they weren't prepared to risk it. This is definitely a win for the Fijian if you have kids of the appropriate age who are prepared to chance it.
Both places have kayaks and hobie cats, but it's easier to work out how to hire them at the Sheraton. The location is probably better for kayaks at the Fijian, but sailing is definitely better at the Sheraton. Bring your own snorkelling gear to the Fijian.
Information is one of the most frustrating aspects of the Fijian. The in-room info is really limited. There are no menus for the restaurants, or daily activities lists, or even accurate information on how to access phone messages. There's good snorkelling right next to the swimming area, that requires only a very short swim, but there is only one sign that tells you this, by way of saying "snorkelling area" on a map. I didn't find this sign for 5 days. I felt like I finally worked out how the place worked the night before we left. I don't remember how the information worked at the Sheraton, but I definitely didn't spend the entire time bewildered.
The spa at the Fijian is breathtakingly beautiful, and not too insanely priced. I didn't use the one at the Sheraton because I choked on the prices.
There is a games room at the Fijian which has air hockey and various arcade games, but most of them don't work. It would really be better if they just pulled it out, because the kids are keen and are then left disappointed, but they really wouldn't miss it if it wasn't there at all.
The Fijian has a Polynesian Night that is really very expensive but presents extremely good (if fairly short) fire dancing and pretty unimpressive fire walking. The Sheraton has fire dancing regularly outside one of the restaurants at around 7pm for free. It's not as amazing as that at the Fijian, but it's also free.
Internet
This gets its own category because it's such a big deal for us. Since we run a business, we simply can't go somewhere without internet access. Both the Sheraton and the Fijian say they have internet, but all interwebs were not created equal. The Sheraton provides wireless in the rooms, which was slow but usable. I can't remember exactly what the issue was we had - something about the number of devices we could connect and I think they helped us a little by allowing one more device, but we still had to kind of take it in turns.
The Fijian was much more of an adventure. The first rooms we were given had no internet, the whole block was down (and had been for weeks/months). It still took them 2 hours to tell us this. It took 3 days to get rooms with internet, but when we finally moved, it didn't work there either. However, it was a much easier fix - the cable was clearly unplugged from the switch. Only 3 hours to fix that. Then the same thing happened the next day. This time the IT manager finally spoke to us and explained they were unplugging everyone trying to chase someone stealing their internet. About 3/4 day to fix it. Then the DHCP server locked up. About 2 hours to fix that. Then on the second last day, unplugged from the switch again. A speedy 1.5hrs this time. The internet in the rooms is wired, so only one laptop at a time, but it is pretty quick most of the time, although even when it's working, it's fairly inconsistent.
I know this doesn't matter to lots of people, but if it's critical to you as it is for us, make sure you include the necessity on your booking so you have a better place to argue from. Also, as with all complaints at any hotel in Fiji, if you really want it fixed, ask to speak to a manager immediately, otherwise it seems to be about a 50/50 chance whether your problem is passed on to anyone who can fix it.
Costs & Billing
This is really, really complicated. At the basic level, the rooms cost more at the Sheraton Villas. There are meal packages for the Fijian, but not the Sheraton, but the meal packages are far from all-inclusive. When we went to the Sheraton, we paid for a Starwood card (about $300 in 2011) that gave us a free meal with every adult meal purchased, which meant we didn't end up spending that much on meals. Both places generally have "kids eat free" deals, and while they sometimes claim this applies only to 2 kids, we've always had all 3 kids covered by it. At the Sheraton, the kids eat free whenever they dine with their parents, at most restaurants, when they eat from the kids' menu. At the Fijian, kids eat free with or without their parents, but only at the buffet.
We bought the full meal plan at the Fijian, but it just gives you an allowance for each meal, which is equivalent to the cost of the buffet (but not the seafood buffet on Friday nights which is more). The prepayment costs about FJ$12 (~10%) per day less than it's worth per person, so you only have to miss a couple of meals before it isn't worth it.
I think, in the end, the Fijian is cheaper, but not by a whole lot, so if the pros outweigh the cons for the Sheraton for you, cost is probably not going to be a deciding factor (at least based on the prices I was comparing for this holiday).
The billing itself is a drama at the Fijian. Opening a tab to buy a few drinks at a bar often confuses the staff, and only some of them seem to get it. However, if you sign off each drink, you're also likely to be scolded by the staff who do know how to run a tab. It's not a big deal, but it's kinda frustrating. There is no running tally on the TV, or anywhere else, to check that it looks ok as you go, and when you finally get the bill, they randomly add separate bills together, and separate out some of the taxes, which makes reconciling your receipts with the bill just about impossible. The bills at the Sheraton are clear and easy to check.
In the end though, it's all about chilling out in a country that values its slow pace, and with sunsets like these, all my whinging seems kind of pathetic.
We stayed at the Shangri-la Fijian, on the Coral Coast, about an hour south of Nadi for 9 nights. In 2011, we stayed at the Sheraton Villas Denarau, about 20mins from Nadi airport for the same length of time. They both have their pros & cons which I'm going to ramble on about.
Location
 |
| The view from my room |
The island is big enough that it doesn't feel crowded. I ran every second day, and could find space to run where I only passed a few staff each time. There is snorkelling right off the beach - not spectacular coral or anything, but a peaceful lagoon with reef rocks, plants and fish. Not great for little kids though, because there's quite a current. It's more disconcerting than dangerous, but it's not like snorkelling off an island further off the coast.
 |
| Some of the wee fishies I saw - the snake photo was sadly not in focus |
The Sheraton, on the other hand, is built on reclaimed land from a swamp. The water you're looking at
 |
| Denarau beach - not ugly, but not Yanuca either. |
Rooms
This one goes to the Sheraton in spades. The Villas were built comparatively recently, and the adjoining rooms are spacious and sensibly arranged. You get a minimalist kitchen and quite big lounge room in one room, with a huge bedroom with king bed and acceptable bathroom (but without a bath tub). The other room has twin doubles and its own bathroom. The beds are super comfortable.There is also an antechamber with a locked door that accesses both rooms, so you only need one key to get in. You can also lock the inner doors, so you can lock your kids out if you want to! There are ceiling fans, and quiet air conditioners. Each room has its own TV with a DVD player. They are light and airy rooms and feel fresh and well maintained.
The Fijian is an old resort, opened in the 70s. It's been renovated, but it's still an old school resort. Adjoining rooms have interconnecting doors, but separate keys that only open one of the two rooms. We got locked out once because the cleaners closed the interconnecting door into the kids' room (which can only be opened from the kids' room) and we had only taken keys to our room. It took an hour to get someone to come and open the door. No ceiling fans, and the air conditioners are old and noisy (although it was possible to muck around with the fan settings to alleviate that a bit - they weren't too bad, but clearly worse than the Sheraton ones). If you book adjoining rooms, they must both have the same bed configuration. You either get two rooms with twin beds, or two rooms with king beds, which is ridiculous. The beds are ok, but not as comfy as the Villas. The bathrooms do have tubs though and are quite spacious. All the rooms have balconies. There are no DVD players, which stunned me for what is billed as a family resort. However, the TVs have HDMI inputs, so if you take a laptop and the appropriate cable, that's a solvable issue.
It's important to note that I am really only talking about the Sheraton Villas here, the main Sheraton resort has rooms not entirely dissimilar to the Fijian, although they are bigger. I'm not discussing that one in detail though, because we stayed there in 2001, and I don't remember the details and it could have changed anyway. However, most of the rest of the info is relevant to both places, because it is all regarded as one resort from the guest's perspective and you can use the facilities from both of them (and another one as well).
Food
Another pretty clear category, the Fijian's food was generally a class well above that of the Sheraton. Food in Fiji is perhaps not as sophisticated as in other places that have Sheraton and Shangri-La resorts, so you'll see a lot of complaining about the food on travel websites for both places. However, I found the food at the Fijian to be consistently what I expected and at the very least at the level of top quality pub food. The Sheraton, however, was pretty ordinary unless you go to one of the super expensive restaurants. For example, the poached eggs at the breakfast buffet were pretty much inedible. The Japanese place was really good, but pricey. I should note, though, that on Denarau there are some non-resort places to eat that are fine, and cheaper than the resort.
The one exception is the booze. The Sheraton has a wider variety available, and different bars & restaurants have some different options. The Fijian has one limited list which is available everywhere, except for the places where even less is available. There is nowhere on Yanuca Island to buy your own, whereas on Denarau there is a general store that sells a good range at only moderately inflated prices. Cocktails are much more expensive than they used to be, because of a tax imposed only on resorts, which is something of the order of FJ$6.00 per drink, or possibly per nip? I can't remember the details and can't find anything online to tell me, but it was announced in the budget that was brought down when we were there in 2011.
Facilities & Service
This one is all a bit murky. Generally speaking, the Sheraton probably wins it, but it really depends on what you care about. The overall feel of the place is better at the Sheraton. As Mr11 put it, there's something about it that feels really special which isn't quite there at the Fijian. It's probably about the gardens and general presentation, but I can't quite put my finger on it either. There are 4 very different swimming pools the kids can use at the Sheraton, which is all of them - they don't have an adults only pool. There are only 2 pools the kids can use at the Fijian, plus a pretty dull adults' pool. There is no swim up bar at the Fijian, and there is one or two at the Sheraton. All of the pools at the Sheraton are better than all of the pools at the Fijian. There is also pool-side service at the Sheraton, but not at the Fijian - you have to get up off your arse and go wait at the bar. For me, that mostly meant I spent a lot less on alcohol, so it's possibly a questionable business decision.
On the other hand, games in and out of the pool are organised by staff morning and afternoon at the Fijian and nothing much like that happens at the Sheraton. Lots of kids and adults join in, including my sport averse family. We played the pool basketball (run every day), but there was also beach volleyball, and softball, soccer and cricket on the grass. It's all extremely relaxed, with minimal rules and generally run in the spirit of everyone having a good time.
The kids' club at the Sheraton is abysmal, and my kids refused to attend. Apparently the one at the Fijian is much better (as reported by other kids to my kids), but scarred by their experience at the Sheraton, they weren't prepared to risk it. This is definitely a win for the Fijian if you have kids of the appropriate age who are prepared to chance it.
Both places have kayaks and hobie cats, but it's easier to work out how to hire them at the Sheraton. The location is probably better for kayaks at the Fijian, but sailing is definitely better at the Sheraton. Bring your own snorkelling gear to the Fijian.
Information is one of the most frustrating aspects of the Fijian. The in-room info is really limited. There are no menus for the restaurants, or daily activities lists, or even accurate information on how to access phone messages. There's good snorkelling right next to the swimming area, that requires only a very short swim, but there is only one sign that tells you this, by way of saying "snorkelling area" on a map. I didn't find this sign for 5 days. I felt like I finally worked out how the place worked the night before we left. I don't remember how the information worked at the Sheraton, but I definitely didn't spend the entire time bewildered.
The spa at the Fijian is breathtakingly beautiful, and not too insanely priced. I didn't use the one at the Sheraton because I choked on the prices.
 |
| The view from the waiting area at the spa, where herbal tea is served. |
The Fijian has a Polynesian Night that is really very expensive but presents extremely good (if fairly short) fire dancing and pretty unimpressive fire walking. The Sheraton has fire dancing regularly outside one of the restaurants at around 7pm for free. It's not as amazing as that at the Fijian, but it's also free.
Internet
This gets its own category because it's such a big deal for us. Since we run a business, we simply can't go somewhere without internet access. Both the Sheraton and the Fijian say they have internet, but all interwebs were not created equal. The Sheraton provides wireless in the rooms, which was slow but usable. I can't remember exactly what the issue was we had - something about the number of devices we could connect and I think they helped us a little by allowing one more device, but we still had to kind of take it in turns.
The Fijian was much more of an adventure. The first rooms we were given had no internet, the whole block was down (and had been for weeks/months). It still took them 2 hours to tell us this. It took 3 days to get rooms with internet, but when we finally moved, it didn't work there either. However, it was a much easier fix - the cable was clearly unplugged from the switch. Only 3 hours to fix that. Then the same thing happened the next day. This time the IT manager finally spoke to us and explained they were unplugging everyone trying to chase someone stealing their internet. About 3/4 day to fix it. Then the DHCP server locked up. About 2 hours to fix that. Then on the second last day, unplugged from the switch again. A speedy 1.5hrs this time. The internet in the rooms is wired, so only one laptop at a time, but it is pretty quick most of the time, although even when it's working, it's fairly inconsistent.
I know this doesn't matter to lots of people, but if it's critical to you as it is for us, make sure you include the necessity on your booking so you have a better place to argue from. Also, as with all complaints at any hotel in Fiji, if you really want it fixed, ask to speak to a manager immediately, otherwise it seems to be about a 50/50 chance whether your problem is passed on to anyone who can fix it.
Costs & Billing
This is really, really complicated. At the basic level, the rooms cost more at the Sheraton Villas. There are meal packages for the Fijian, but not the Sheraton, but the meal packages are far from all-inclusive. When we went to the Sheraton, we paid for a Starwood card (about $300 in 2011) that gave us a free meal with every adult meal purchased, which meant we didn't end up spending that much on meals. Both places generally have "kids eat free" deals, and while they sometimes claim this applies only to 2 kids, we've always had all 3 kids covered by it. At the Sheraton, the kids eat free whenever they dine with their parents, at most restaurants, when they eat from the kids' menu. At the Fijian, kids eat free with or without their parents, but only at the buffet.
We bought the full meal plan at the Fijian, but it just gives you an allowance for each meal, which is equivalent to the cost of the buffet (but not the seafood buffet on Friday nights which is more). The prepayment costs about FJ$12 (~10%) per day less than it's worth per person, so you only have to miss a couple of meals before it isn't worth it.
I think, in the end, the Fijian is cheaper, but not by a whole lot, so if the pros outweigh the cons for the Sheraton for you, cost is probably not going to be a deciding factor (at least based on the prices I was comparing for this holiday).
The billing itself is a drama at the Fijian. Opening a tab to buy a few drinks at a bar often confuses the staff, and only some of them seem to get it. However, if you sign off each drink, you're also likely to be scolded by the staff who do know how to run a tab. It's not a big deal, but it's kinda frustrating. There is no running tally on the TV, or anywhere else, to check that it looks ok as you go, and when you finally get the bill, they randomly add separate bills together, and separate out some of the taxes, which makes reconciling your receipts with the bill just about impossible. The bills at the Sheraton are clear and easy to check.
In the end though, it's all about chilling out in a country that values its slow pace, and with sunsets like these, all my whinging seems kind of pathetic.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Musings on Radical Inclusion
In October, I'm throwing myself way out of my comfort zone and going to Burning Seed - a week long festival that is the regional incarnation of the massive Burning Man festival in Nevada. This is not a festival that is created by organisers for the entertainment of participants, it is created by the participants themselves. There are ten principles which guide the festivals, but it's the principle of radical inclusion that's got me pondering.
The idea of radical inclusion seems both wonderful and deeply problematic to me. On the one hand, this principle is probably 90% of the reason I decided to go. It's very clear that I don't have to already be part of the community to welcomed by it. That's awesome. But when I start to think about the implications of being truly radically inclusive, that pesky "other hand" gives me trouble. To be inclusive, and to welcome people, implies that the space is safe and accessible for those people. To be inclusive and welcoming to everyone implies a space is safe and accessible to everyone, and I'm not entirely sure that such a space can actually exist, even in theory.
For example, another principle is radical self-expression:
Another example is the physical location. Burning Seed is held in a remote location, with minimal mobile coverage and a general discouragement from using phones and other connections to the outside world. This is designed to improve inclusiveness, to help people feel safe from having their image or anything else shared with the wider world. That makes a lot of sense, isolation brings a certain security that some people may not be willing to participate without. It also provides the mental space for people to truly participate, to properly engage with the people and space around them. But it was a definite stumbling block for me - not being able to connect with outside world for a whole week could potentially threaten my livelihood. I decided the risk was manageable, but for someone else, it might exclude them completely.
And this is not just about how people make a living. It's also about people's coping methods. For my middle son, who Does Not Cope Well With Change, attending something like this would be very challenging. To be a safe space for him, he would need to be able to access his coping methods, and for him, that's largely online. But a location that provided excellent digital connection would probably then become unsafe for others, for myriad reasons.
This is hardly an exhaustive list, just couple of illustrative examples that came readily to mind.
From a broader perspective, everyone should have access to safe, inclusive spaces, and making an effort to consider that is really important. But I'm not sure it's possible to achieve that in one space, simply because of conflicting and competing needs. Managing that, for a community that wants to be as inclusive as possible, is going to be really tricky, and yet a very valuable pursuit.
I'm really looking forward to seeing how people who've put real thought and energy into this idea have put it into practice. However, I have to accept it may be that the decisions they make on competing needs mean that I, or someone I know, or someone else again, is not actually included in their community, and that's just unavoidable.
Radical InclusionAnyone may be a part of Burning Man. We welcome and respect the stranger. No prerequisites exist for participation in our community.Since I have yet to go to this festival, I have no idea what this looks like at Burning Seed, and my musings here are in no way intended to reflect on it. I'm really looking forward to seeing how they (we) try to realise this principle in a state forest near Wagga. This post is purely theoretical and speculative.
The idea of radical inclusion seems both wonderful and deeply problematic to me. On the one hand, this principle is probably 90% of the reason I decided to go. It's very clear that I don't have to already be part of the community to welcomed by it. That's awesome. But when I start to think about the implications of being truly radically inclusive, that pesky "other hand" gives me trouble. To be inclusive, and to welcome people, implies that the space is safe and accessible for those people. To be inclusive and welcoming to everyone implies a space is safe and accessible to everyone, and I'm not entirely sure that such a space can actually exist, even in theory.
For example, another principle is radical self-expression:
Radical Self-expressionRadical self-expression arises from the unique gifts of the individual. No one other than the individual or a collaborating group can determine its content. It is offered as a gift to others. In this spirit, the giver should respect the rights and liberties of the recipient.This description hints at the idea that one person's self-expression may impact on another. A person may well find a form of self-expression which is incredibly healing and cathartic for themselves, but is simultaneously horrendously triggering to another person who happens to see it. And yet another person may have avoided seeing it, if they'd been forewarned, but actually finds it surprisingly empowering, and desensitising instead of triggering. How do you allow for inclusion of all three people?
Another example is the physical location. Burning Seed is held in a remote location, with minimal mobile coverage and a general discouragement from using phones and other connections to the outside world. This is designed to improve inclusiveness, to help people feel safe from having their image or anything else shared with the wider world. That makes a lot of sense, isolation brings a certain security that some people may not be willing to participate without. It also provides the mental space for people to truly participate, to properly engage with the people and space around them. But it was a definite stumbling block for me - not being able to connect with outside world for a whole week could potentially threaten my livelihood. I decided the risk was manageable, but for someone else, it might exclude them completely.
And this is not just about how people make a living. It's also about people's coping methods. For my middle son, who Does Not Cope Well With Change, attending something like this would be very challenging. To be a safe space for him, he would need to be able to access his coping methods, and for him, that's largely online. But a location that provided excellent digital connection would probably then become unsafe for others, for myriad reasons.
This is hardly an exhaustive list, just couple of illustrative examples that came readily to mind.
From a broader perspective, everyone should have access to safe, inclusive spaces, and making an effort to consider that is really important. But I'm not sure it's possible to achieve that in one space, simply because of conflicting and competing needs. Managing that, for a community that wants to be as inclusive as possible, is going to be really tricky, and yet a very valuable pursuit.
I'm really looking forward to seeing how people who've put real thought and energy into this idea have put it into practice. However, I have to accept it may be that the decisions they make on competing needs mean that I, or someone I know, or someone else again, is not actually included in their community, and that's just unavoidable.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Cloaking device
[Cross posted at Hoyden About Town]
Any number of authors and TV shows have utilised the human capacity to ignore what their brains tell them makes no sense, but this week I got to see that in action. Cisco Live! (formerly, and probably forever known as Networkers) had 4,400-odd delegates at the Melbourne Exhibition & Convention centre. 400 of them were women, and I'm guessing exhibitor staff and press people were somewhat over-represented in that number.
The moment I arrived, unbeknownst to me, my cloaking device had been deployed. I stood waiting to register, and when a position was free, the bloke on it gestured to the man who had arrived after me. I just wasn't there. Some women could see through it - the woman on the merchandise stand remarked on my unlikely existence. However, a woman I approached at a cocktail meet and greet looked straight through me and turned to a man at her left.
I spoke to a guy in a long coffee queue to point out there was another, unused machine 3 feet away, and even bearing news of speedy caffeine, and wearing a bright red dress, I was apparently invisible.
A woman at a tech event, unaccompanied by any men, is just too unlikely to be believed. I knew one person at the event, but we had very different missions there, so our paths didn't cross much. However, when I was with him, I was back in the land of the plausible. People looked to me expecting to be introduced.
The only exception to the slightly bizarre week was a lunch for networking women. Suddenly I was solid again. I'm pleased Cisco have decided to support women and their connections with each other, because I've never been so clearly reminded how necessary it is. A fairfax journo asked the panel of 4 women, led by Jane Caro, if they were in favour of quotas for women on boards. Janet Ramey, VP of technical services for Cisco, responded first, discussing the importance of supporting girls and young women into tech areas, but ultimately talking about meritocracy and the best candidate for the job. I suppose while representing your company at one of their largest regional events, you can't say "Yeah, the current system is completely unfair"*. However, the other three panelists all supported quotas, or at least hard targets.
When women are so rare, they are invisible. Quotas may be what is required to remove the cloaking devices and give women any chance of competing fairly in male dominated industries.
*I should point out that Cisco is not as bad as many in the gender equality department, heaps of the women I saw there were actually Cisco staff, and they have more senior executive women than many other companies. But still, 400 out of 4,400.
Any number of authors and TV shows have utilised the human capacity to ignore what their brains tell them makes no sense, but this week I got to see that in action. Cisco Live! (formerly, and probably forever known as Networkers) had 4,400-odd delegates at the Melbourne Exhibition & Convention centre. 400 of them were women, and I'm guessing exhibitor staff and press people were somewhat over-represented in that number.
The moment I arrived, unbeknownst to me, my cloaking device had been deployed. I stood waiting to register, and when a position was free, the bloke on it gestured to the man who had arrived after me. I just wasn't there. Some women could see through it - the woman on the merchandise stand remarked on my unlikely existence. However, a woman I approached at a cocktail meet and greet looked straight through me and turned to a man at her left.
I spoke to a guy in a long coffee queue to point out there was another, unused machine 3 feet away, and even bearing news of speedy caffeine, and wearing a bright red dress, I was apparently invisible.
A woman at a tech event, unaccompanied by any men, is just too unlikely to be believed. I knew one person at the event, but we had very different missions there, so our paths didn't cross much. However, when I was with him, I was back in the land of the plausible. People looked to me expecting to be introduced.
The only exception to the slightly bizarre week was a lunch for networking women. Suddenly I was solid again. I'm pleased Cisco have decided to support women and their connections with each other, because I've never been so clearly reminded how necessary it is. A fairfax journo asked the panel of 4 women, led by Jane Caro, if they were in favour of quotas for women on boards. Janet Ramey, VP of technical services for Cisco, responded first, discussing the importance of supporting girls and young women into tech areas, but ultimately talking about meritocracy and the best candidate for the job. I suppose while representing your company at one of their largest regional events, you can't say "Yeah, the current system is completely unfair"*. However, the other three panelists all supported quotas, or at least hard targets.
When women are so rare, they are invisible. Quotas may be what is required to remove the cloaking devices and give women any chance of competing fairly in male dominated industries.
*I should point out that Cisco is not as bad as many in the gender equality department, heaps of the women I saw there were actually Cisco staff, and they have more senior executive women than many other companies. But still, 400 out of 4,400.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Horrible People
I've been reading on the internet about Horrible People. It's good to know that there are so many people out there who have never screwed up (either genuinely, or perceived as such), hold no problematic views or ideas and always take public criticism with grace, remorse and eloquently expressed newfound understanding. Because otherwise, how would we know who to dismiss entirely as human beings?
(Yes, this is a sub-blog. Take your pick as to which Horrible People it may be referring to. You'll probably be right.)
(Yes, this is a sub-blog. Take your pick as to which Horrible People it may be referring to. You'll probably be right.)
Sunday, January 05, 2014
2014
With the assistance of wonderful friends, a metric shit-tonne of seafood and way more bottles of booze than the hangovers would suggest, 2013 turned into 2014. For several years now I've had a word to focus on and consider, rather than a resolution, and this year it's taken quite a few days for the word to become apparent.
But here it is: kindness.
I need to be practising it more personally, and with the abhorrent, morality-free government we have now, it's going to be hard to keep it in focus at a political level too.
I hope your year is filled with kindness, and for Australians, I hope you can find the strength for kindness in between the almost constant state of outrage and disgust at what is being done to us, and in our name.
But here it is: kindness.
I need to be practising it more personally, and with the abhorrent, morality-free government we have now, it's going to be hard to keep it in focus at a political level too.
I hope your year is filled with kindness, and for Australians, I hope you can find the strength for kindness in between the almost constant state of outrage and disgust at what is being done to us, and in our name.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Christmas is fun
Christmas Day Running Sheet
7:30am Get meat out to come to room temp
Unwrap presents
8:00am Pre-heat oven & prepare pork roast
8:30am Put pork in the oven - check every 20mins for crackling
Put water on to boil for pudding
Clean up after breakfast
9:00am Start BBQ for turkey
Put the pudding in to boil - check every 30mins for water level
Make the glaze for the turkey
Baste turkey ready for cooking
Put rice on to cook for stuffing
9:30am Put turkey on to cook - check every 20mins for consistent temp & basting
Make the stuffing
Clean the punch bowl
10:00am Peel & cut up potatoes, pumpkin, orange sweet potato, white sweet potato, purple sweet potato & eschallots.
11:00am Start to put out nibbles
11:15am Put the potatoes in the oven
Keep putting out nibbles
11:45am Put the pumpkin, sweet potatoes, eschallots & stuffing in the oven/BBQ.
Set the table
Mid-cooking clean up
12:00pm Check meats, get them out of the oven/BBQ and cover with foil to rest
Finish setting the table.
Make the punch
12:30pm Turn all the veg
Put the water on for peas
Start carving the ham
12:45pm Start carving hot meats
Put the peas on
Make the gravy
Put the wine on the table
1:00pm Set out everything for people to serve themselves
Serve smaller kids
Eat
1:30pm Get the pudding out of the pot & unwrap it
Clear plates & set off dishwasher
1:45pm Unwrap presents with guests
Sit & chat for a bit
3:30pm Organise & serve pudding
Sit & chat for a bit
5:00pm Guests leave, start cleaning up.
9:45pm Put the last of the essential things in the fridge.
Give up & head to bed
I didn't do all of this - there were a few things I wasn't even really involved in, and lots of people did lots of stuff. Crash did most of the BBQ work, and other people did stuff as they arrived. My sister and I work well together in the kitchen to pull the last of it together to serve, and she made the punch.
Tomorrow I'll find out what the kids got for Christmas, and help with all the things they wanted help with.
Next year I'm unwrapping the presents and then going back to bed. The family can eat the left overs from the Carols.
7:30am Get meat out to come to room temp
Unwrap presents
8:00am Pre-heat oven & prepare pork roast
8:30am Put pork in the oven - check every 20mins for crackling
Put water on to boil for pudding
Clean up after breakfast
9:00am Start BBQ for turkey
Put the pudding in to boil - check every 30mins for water level
Make the glaze for the turkey
Baste turkey ready for cooking
Put rice on to cook for stuffing
9:30am Put turkey on to cook - check every 20mins for consistent temp & basting
Make the stuffing
Clean the punch bowl
10:00am Peel & cut up potatoes, pumpkin, orange sweet potato, white sweet potato, purple sweet potato & eschallots.
11:00am Start to put out nibbles
11:15am Put the potatoes in the oven
Keep putting out nibbles
11:45am Put the pumpkin, sweet potatoes, eschallots & stuffing in the oven/BBQ.
Set the table
Mid-cooking clean up
12:00pm Check meats, get them out of the oven/BBQ and cover with foil to rest
Finish setting the table.
Make the punch
12:30pm Turn all the veg
Put the water on for peas
Start carving the ham
12:45pm Start carving hot meats
Put the peas on
Make the gravy
Put the wine on the table
1:00pm Set out everything for people to serve themselves
Serve smaller kids
Eat
1:30pm Get the pudding out of the pot & unwrap it
Clear plates & set off dishwasher
1:45pm Unwrap presents with guests
Sit & chat for a bit
3:30pm Organise & serve pudding
Sit & chat for a bit
5:00pm Guests leave, start cleaning up.
9:45pm Put the last of the essential things in the fridge.
Give up & head to bed
I didn't do all of this - there were a few things I wasn't even really involved in, and lots of people did lots of stuff. Crash did most of the BBQ work, and other people did stuff as they arrived. My sister and I work well together in the kitchen to pull the last of it together to serve, and she made the punch.
Tomorrow I'll find out what the kids got for Christmas, and help with all the things they wanted help with.
Next year I'm unwrapping the presents and then going back to bed. The family can eat the left overs from the Carols.
Thursday, November 07, 2013
Marking the occasion
16 years today, and I spent the night listening to 70s music. There wasn't a song I didn't recognise, and only a handful I didn't know the words to. I may have no musical talent, but my love for music has everything to do with you, Dad. There'll be tears before bedtime.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Living as the default
That article by Julian Burnside really triggered some light bulbs for me. Not so much the stuff about asylum seekers - that's no surprise - but the stuff about alienation and not feeling heard.
As a white middle class straight man, the standard discourse is about you. However, since you are the default, it doesn't mention you explicitly. Most of the voices you hear, day in day out, represent you. But since you hear them day in day out, you don't hear them at all any more. This is also true for white middle class women like me, on issues other than women's issues (and even then - women's issues are framed largely from my perspective).
As the default, you are defined by what you're not. You don't belong to any interesting culture (because you are surrounded by your culture - it's forced down everyone's throats, but you just don't see it). You're not gay (or bi, or trans*, or queer). You're not disabled. You're not a woman. All those people get a mention all the time. "Indigenous councils", "gay minister", "female politician", "disability advocates". Unless you are taught to see it, it never occurs to you that "marriage" means "straight marriage", that "politician" means "male politician", that "social values" means "white social values", that "employee" means "able bodied employee". Because you are the default. When no descriptor is added, we assume white, male, straight, cis, able bodied (and probably some other things too).
The strange result is that people whose voices are heard the most feel like they are not heard at all. I've felt it, and it's taken me years to recognise the bullshit that it is. The insight I gained from Burnside's article is the deep psychological effects of feeling unheard. Even though it's complete nonsense, the sense of feeling unheard is real. Part of the discourse needs to be to help people see how they are already heard (by other members of the default - this is not the job of the already unheard). To see the default they are soaking in. To say "Yes, you are being heard. Stop and listen, your voice is everywhere. It's not that your voice is invalid, or irrelevant, it's just that it's saturated the market." I've spent a lot of time dismissing people who yell like this, but that's only reinforcing their feelings of being unheard. I think perhaps I need to put more energy into listening to people, and showing them how much they are already heard. To help them see their visibility (as well as acknowledging any ways they, personally, might genuinely be invisible).
A large part of the reason this blog has been so neglected lately is that I've spent far more time online listening to other voices. A lot of what I've been interested in has been about race and LGBTQI issues (for no particular reason, it's just been where my readings have taken me), and I don't have much to say on most of it - it's all said much better by the people affected by the way the default treats them. It's frustrating to watch them being shouted down, and I don't mean this post to be some kind of apologetic to absolve those living as the default. There's still no excuse for not recognising the advantages you have in this world. However, it gives me a different way of thinking about approaching those people (of whom I have often been one), and I think that's helpful.
But there are many people in our society who have, at least in their own minds, disappeared. ... The more they complain, the more they are ignored; the more they are ignored, the louder they complain.Burnside talks about people in specific circumstances feeling like they are not heard, but the interwebs are full of middle class white men (and women) yelling loudly, behaving very much like the people Burnside describes as having mental health issues, or problems not recognised by the law. However, the MRA people, the "Fuck off we're full" people, and many of the other "What about me???" folks don't have mental health issues or specific circumstances of the type Burnside describes. I think they may be suffering from living life as the default.
As a white middle class straight man, the standard discourse is about you. However, since you are the default, it doesn't mention you explicitly. Most of the voices you hear, day in day out, represent you. But since you hear them day in day out, you don't hear them at all any more. This is also true for white middle class women like me, on issues other than women's issues (and even then - women's issues are framed largely from my perspective).
As the default, you are defined by what you're not. You don't belong to any interesting culture (because you are surrounded by your culture - it's forced down everyone's throats, but you just don't see it). You're not gay (or bi, or trans*, or queer). You're not disabled. You're not a woman. All those people get a mention all the time. "Indigenous councils", "gay minister", "female politician", "disability advocates". Unless you are taught to see it, it never occurs to you that "marriage" means "straight marriage", that "politician" means "male politician", that "social values" means "white social values", that "employee" means "able bodied employee". Because you are the default. When no descriptor is added, we assume white, male, straight, cis, able bodied (and probably some other things too).
The strange result is that people whose voices are heard the most feel like they are not heard at all. I've felt it, and it's taken me years to recognise the bullshit that it is. The insight I gained from Burnside's article is the deep psychological effects of feeling unheard. Even though it's complete nonsense, the sense of feeling unheard is real. Part of the discourse needs to be to help people see how they are already heard (by other members of the default - this is not the job of the already unheard). To see the default they are soaking in. To say "Yes, you are being heard. Stop and listen, your voice is everywhere. It's not that your voice is invalid, or irrelevant, it's just that it's saturated the market." I've spent a lot of time dismissing people who yell like this, but that's only reinforcing their feelings of being unheard. I think perhaps I need to put more energy into listening to people, and showing them how much they are already heard. To help them see their visibility (as well as acknowledging any ways they, personally, might genuinely be invisible).
A large part of the reason this blog has been so neglected lately is that I've spent far more time online listening to other voices. A lot of what I've been interested in has been about race and LGBTQI issues (for no particular reason, it's just been where my readings have taken me), and I don't have much to say on most of it - it's all said much better by the people affected by the way the default treats them. It's frustrating to watch them being shouted down, and I don't mean this post to be some kind of apologetic to absolve those living as the default. There's still no excuse for not recognising the advantages you have in this world. However, it gives me a different way of thinking about approaching those people (of whom I have often been one), and I think that's helpful.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Rant
You have been warned.....
I'm tired of stupid people. I'm tired of politicians who can't see past the results of the focus group. I'm tired of a mainstream media so blatantly pushing its own agenda that gossip is passed off as news, and discussion of the gossip as analysis. I'm tired of CEOs interested only in their bonuses before they bugger off to destroy another company, or more employees' lives. I'm tired of shareholders who don't even know what the companies whose shares they hold do. I'm tired of people so afraid that their lives might alter in the smallest way, that they're sticking their fingers in their ears and refusing to address climate change. I'm tired of men who think women are inferior. I'm particularly tired of men who think women are inferior but claim constantly not to, and blame women for accusing them. I'm tired of people who can't see that we can't address the gap (choose your own gap, it doesn't matter which) without asking the people on the other side of that gap what they need, and then actually providing it - and not out of charity, but because my world is better when your world is better. I'm tired of people claiming to wanti to save the world, when what they really want is to make the whole world like them. I'm tired of money and power and the desire to be on the guest list dominating the governance of countries. I'm tired of victims being held to account for not reacting the right way, or not fleeing via the correct mode of transport, or wearing the wrong clothes. I'm tired of waiting for this mess to implode, needing it to implode and being terrified of what will happen when it does.
I'm not tired of people who are listening, and learning and still fucking up. I'm not tired of people who say terrible things without realising it, and then learn and stop. I'm not tired of people who take a while to do that. I'm not tired of people asking me to explain why what something someone said was terrible (at least not the first five times). I'm not tired of educating myself, although it's a never-ending task. And I'm not tired of my kids' incredulity when they discover another one of the things I am tired of. I'm not tired of the hope that brings.
But I'm really fucking tired of the dark. The solstice can't come soon enough.
I'm tired of stupid people. I'm tired of politicians who can't see past the results of the focus group. I'm tired of a mainstream media so blatantly pushing its own agenda that gossip is passed off as news, and discussion of the gossip as analysis. I'm tired of CEOs interested only in their bonuses before they bugger off to destroy another company, or more employees' lives. I'm tired of shareholders who don't even know what the companies whose shares they hold do. I'm tired of people so afraid that their lives might alter in the smallest way, that they're sticking their fingers in their ears and refusing to address climate change. I'm tired of men who think women are inferior. I'm particularly tired of men who think women are inferior but claim constantly not to, and blame women for accusing them. I'm tired of people who can't see that we can't address the gap (choose your own gap, it doesn't matter which) without asking the people on the other side of that gap what they need, and then actually providing it - and not out of charity, but because my world is better when your world is better. I'm tired of people claiming to wanti to save the world, when what they really want is to make the whole world like them. I'm tired of money and power and the desire to be on the guest list dominating the governance of countries. I'm tired of victims being held to account for not reacting the right way, or not fleeing via the correct mode of transport, or wearing the wrong clothes. I'm tired of waiting for this mess to implode, needing it to implode and being terrified of what will happen when it does.
I'm not tired of people who are listening, and learning and still fucking up. I'm not tired of people who say terrible things without realising it, and then learn and stop. I'm not tired of people who take a while to do that. I'm not tired of people asking me to explain why what something someone said was terrible (at least not the first five times). I'm not tired of educating myself, although it's a never-ending task. And I'm not tired of my kids' incredulity when they discover another one of the things I am tired of. I'm not tired of the hope that brings.
But I'm really fucking tired of the dark. The solstice can't come soon enough.
Friday, February 15, 2013
My Body My Rules
A long time ago, when I first started reading blogs, I came across the idea of bodily autonomy for children. The idea that children should never feel that they are not in control of what happens to their body, even as babies. My immediate reaction was that this was a great theory, but doomed to failure in practice. When I expressed this thought on blogs* I got various responses, but mostly variations around the idea that you teach kids what they need to know about looking after themselves and they mostly make sensible decisions. Also, most responses came with the caveat that in circumstances where the child was choosing to make completely inappropriate decisions about their body (like the 18 month old who is refusing to have the pooey nappy changed), the best way was to give them a choice between agreeing voluntarily or being forced. I can see that this is better than just forcing them, but it reminds me strongly of being told as a kid "Wipe that smile off your face or I'll wipe it off for you".
Anyway, as my kids grew up, I found the idea actually worked very well, especially with my eldest. He listened to advice and, apart from needing to be reminded about it, mostly followed it. I've helped him defend his right to wear his hair however he likes and other such things. He needs to be supported in asserting himself and this philosophy has worked very well. I'd almost completely forgotten my initial misgivings.
Then along came Second Born. I spent a lot more time defending other people's bodily autonomy from him than worrying about his bodily autonomy when he was little. In fact, we're still working on that. Then last year he was introduced to the phrase "My body, my rules" through the child protection stuff they did at school. It seems like such a sensible meme. But Charlie has an Aspergers brain, and therefore an amazing capacity for taking things literally - especially if it works in his favour. So now Charlie is using "My body, my rules" to justify not cleaning his teeth, not sleeping, not going to school, pretty much not doing anything he doesn't want to do at that moment. Or rather, he's trying to.
Reasoning with him doesn't work. If I explain these things are in his best interest, he claims he's thought it through, and decided the benefits are not worth it. His body, his rules. When they told him that, they didn't put any caveats on it. They didn't point out that his parents have a legal responsibility to ensure his health, education and so on. They didn't say that at some point his choices may be reduced to "do it by choice or be forced to do it." Because from a child protection point of view, that would completely undermine the whole thing. Unfortunately, from a Charlie point of view, he's been handed the ultimate pass. Or at least he thinks he has.
So in the end, I'm almost back where I started. Respecting children's bodily autonomy is definitely a good theory. I'm surprised to find that it works better in practice than I thought, with some children. Other children, however, have more than enough understanding of their own autonomy and need to be reminded that they are not yet adults, and as such need to have some decisions made for them. It all depends whether you have a child who will clean their teeth once they understand its importance, or you have a child who will refuse to clean their teeth just because they can.
*I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to all the bloggers on whose corners of the web I said ignorant things and asked stupid questions. I would also like to thank all those who responded with patience that was above and beyond.
Anyway, as my kids grew up, I found the idea actually worked very well, especially with my eldest. He listened to advice and, apart from needing to be reminded about it, mostly followed it. I've helped him defend his right to wear his hair however he likes and other such things. He needs to be supported in asserting himself and this philosophy has worked very well. I'd almost completely forgotten my initial misgivings.
Then along came Second Born. I spent a lot more time defending other people's bodily autonomy from him than worrying about his bodily autonomy when he was little. In fact, we're still working on that. Then last year he was introduced to the phrase "My body, my rules" through the child protection stuff they did at school. It seems like such a sensible meme. But Charlie has an Aspergers brain, and therefore an amazing capacity for taking things literally - especially if it works in his favour. So now Charlie is using "My body, my rules" to justify not cleaning his teeth, not sleeping, not going to school, pretty much not doing anything he doesn't want to do at that moment. Or rather, he's trying to.
Reasoning with him doesn't work. If I explain these things are in his best interest, he claims he's thought it through, and decided the benefits are not worth it. His body, his rules. When they told him that, they didn't put any caveats on it. They didn't point out that his parents have a legal responsibility to ensure his health, education and so on. They didn't say that at some point his choices may be reduced to "do it by choice or be forced to do it." Because from a child protection point of view, that would completely undermine the whole thing. Unfortunately, from a Charlie point of view, he's been handed the ultimate pass. Or at least he thinks he has.
So in the end, I'm almost back where I started. Respecting children's bodily autonomy is definitely a good theory. I'm surprised to find that it works better in practice than I thought, with some children. Other children, however, have more than enough understanding of their own autonomy and need to be reminded that they are not yet adults, and as such need to have some decisions made for them. It all depends whether you have a child who will clean their teeth once they understand its importance, or you have a child who will refuse to clean their teeth just because they can.
*I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to all the bloggers on whose corners of the web I said ignorant things and asked stupid questions. I would also like to thank all those who responded with patience that was above and beyond.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Missing You
People pretty commonly say they miss someone every day, even many years after they've died. I think I've said it myself, but for me it's not true. I don't miss Dad every day, and it's a good thing too. When I do miss him, my chest starts to implode, my throat tightens and I sob hopelessly. After the tears is the inevitable headache. It's exactly like I'm back in that Thursday in November fifteen years ago. If I missed him every day, I'd be of no use to anyone.
Time hasn't softened or mellowed the pain, it's just allowed me to put it away most of the time. For some reason, though, I've been missing him a lot lately. Maybe it's because he's got four grandchildren now. The youngest is starting to talk. It's such a cool thing to watch language happen. The eldest is shaping up to be a pretty good musician. Dad would have been so proud, and probably claimed the credit somehow. The next oldest, I think, would have adored him. Their senses of humour would have connected and I suspect Charlie would have just been comfortable in his company. Grandchild number three is starting school and the journey to being a real person. They all have to do it without him. I think this is the bit where I shout "It's not fair!" and shake my fist at the universe.
Maybe also, it's because the kids are getting older. I don't need to be constantly alert to where they all are and what they're doing, so I have more brainspace for thoughts not entirely connected to keeping all the balls in the air. I'm not sure I've got the emotional reserves to keep this up though.
It's not that I can't think of him or talk about him, it's that I can't miss him. Not too often. I want to just wish him back into our lives. Granted, Mum & David (her partner) might find adjusting to a poly relationship a little tricky, but while I'm wishing people back from the dead, I think this is a minor detail.
Dad, I'm missing you, and it hurts.
Time hasn't softened or mellowed the pain, it's just allowed me to put it away most of the time. For some reason, though, I've been missing him a lot lately. Maybe it's because he's got four grandchildren now. The youngest is starting to talk. It's such a cool thing to watch language happen. The eldest is shaping up to be a pretty good musician. Dad would have been so proud, and probably claimed the credit somehow. The next oldest, I think, would have adored him. Their senses of humour would have connected and I suspect Charlie would have just been comfortable in his company. Grandchild number three is starting school and the journey to being a real person. They all have to do it without him. I think this is the bit where I shout "It's not fair!" and shake my fist at the universe.
Maybe also, it's because the kids are getting older. I don't need to be constantly alert to where they all are and what they're doing, so I have more brainspace for thoughts not entirely connected to keeping all the balls in the air. I'm not sure I've got the emotional reserves to keep this up though.
It's not that I can't think of him or talk about him, it's that I can't miss him. Not too often. I want to just wish him back into our lives. Granted, Mum & David (her partner) might find adjusting to a poly relationship a little tricky, but while I'm wishing people back from the dead, I think this is a minor detail.
Dad, I'm missing you, and it hurts.
Wednesday, January 02, 2013
Cultural diversity vs feminism
[Cross posted at Hoyden About Town]
The global coverage of the horrific death of a woman from Delhi has certainly shone the light on the difficulties of navigating universal women's rights in a world where cultures are not all the same, and are certainly not equal in power. As usual the Oz has lead the way in how not to discuss women's rights in cultures other than one's own.
Where are the beacons of truth and light to save Aboriginal women? Why do Aboriginal spokespeople persist in the same policies that have failed to civilise Aboriginal violence? (Like India, we must end misogyny - behind the paywall, but Googlable)
It's tricky ground. On the one hand, if the white, Western world speaks up to condemn the violence (and by implication, the aspects of the culture that produce it), it's the voice of the cultural hegemony. On the other hand, not speaking up is implicitly condoning the appalling status quo. I quite firmly believe that it's not anyone's job to force change on other cultures, but it is our job to enable the changes that are being called for from within. This is a rather grand and delightfully vague statement of position, I realise. It needs some practicality about it. The first step is one that people from all minorities have been asking for for the longest time - to listen. To hear the voices of the women oppressed, and when appropriate, repeat and amplify them, but not editorialise them. Not a big ask, but apparently one that Gary Johns from the Australian has grasped. In answer to your question, Mr John, the "beacons of truth and light to save Aboriginal women" are right in front of you. They are Aboriginal women. The rest of Australia's job is to empower them to save themselves.
Which brings me to the point of this post - I've been meaning to write about this for years. That empowering thing is also very vague, and it requires a lot more than listening. I doubt there is one approach that will work everywhere, but I'm sure it doesn't come from policies. People always resist change imposed from more powerful groups - whether it's from a dominant culture or government that has little daily relevance to the cultures it governs. However, that doesn't mean that external cultures and governments can't assist change. One model for this sort of change comes from Monique Deveaux. In a paper she wrote in 2003[1], she outlines a deliberative democratic approach to helping cultures change themselves. The rest of the world only helps provide the framework, not the agenda.
One of the most significant issues in interculture relations is whose voices are heard. A government may attempt to enable multiculturalism by granting or denying cultures specific rights, but Deveaux argues (fairly uncontroversially I would have thought) that this can’t be democratically legitimate unless cultural group members are involved in the decision making process. Further, acknowledging the importance of intragroup relationships, representative members of all sub-groups must also be involved. Deveaux offers a complex model, in which pragmatism is more important than idealism. Representatives must argue on the basis of their own stakes rather than for the common good, to ensure that motives aren't hidden. As a result, compromise and bargaining are encouraged over moral consensus.
One of the most significant issues in interculture relations is whose voices are heard. A government may attempt to enable multiculturalism by granting or denying cultures specific rights, but Deveaux argues (fairly uncontroversially I would have thought) that this can’t be democratically legitimate unless cultural group members are involved in the decision making process. Further, acknowledging the importance of intragroup relationships, representative members of all sub-groups must also be involved. Deveaux offers a complex model, in which pragmatism is more important than idealism. Representatives must argue on the basis of their own stakes rather than for the common good, to ensure that motives aren't hidden. As a result, compromise and bargaining are encouraged over moral consensus.
This approach addresses a number of issues. With each party coming to the debate with a personal position, rather than a moral one, there is less chance of oppressed minorities perceiving the negotiations as a threat to their moral identity. With each sub- group personally represented, the decisions about cultural practices will be made on the basis of the “lived form of these practices” rather than that represented by group spokespersons or majority members. It also allows for each group to determine their own idea of gender equity - so there are no pointless arguments about whether an item of clothing is oppressive, for example.
I'd suggest this kind of approach could work very well within Aboriginal communities - the women know what they need, they just need a framework to enact change. It may work within the various subcultures in India too. It'll certainly work better than white folks tut tutting at them.
Deveaux specifies that three criteria must be met for the process to be valid and effective: nondomination, political equality, and revisability. Very briefly, nondomination requires that no participants are co-erced in any way, political equality means “real opportunity for all citizens to participate” and revisability means that any decisions made may be subject to revision at a later date. Revisabilty acknowledges that change generally takes place gradually, and makes compromise more possible. Political equality clearly presents the greatest difficulty in a multicultural context, as Deveaux acknowledges.
Deveaux was involved in implementing this in South Africa, where the process was used to negotiate dramatic change in customary marriage law. The process was designed primarily for the purpose of improving women's rights. In the first round, amazing change was achieved, but nobody got everything they wanted. They were able to compromise, because testing and revision is built in. Women were afforded the right to own property, to initiate divorce and violence against women in marriage was outlawed. They didn't win the right to take family law matters to the mainstream courts. Nevertheless, for a process of less than a few years, that's amazing progress.
I really like the idea that no-one gets to claim the moral high ground, and that the process recognises both ongoing identity, and evolution of culture. I'm sure it won't work in all circumstances, and needs a lot of support to work where it will - but it seems to me like a good way for external, probably dominant cultures, to assist oppressed groups within cultures improve their lives, without imposing ideas of what that improvement should look like.Who can participate in political life is, for many, culturally determined. Often it is precisely the role and status of certain subgroups – for example, whether women ought to have a political voice – that is at issue. (p.793)She proposes a range of solutions, such as state funding for cultural support groups and independent media to improve the general conditions for democratic involvement, as well as culturally specific solutions on a case by case basis. For example, in negotiations with cultural groups who specifically exclude women from political life, external women’s advocacy groups, preferably with demonstrable cultural understanding, may stand in place of the group’s women themselves. All of this seems eminently sensible, and importantly, quite achievable to me.
Deveaux was involved in implementing this in South Africa, where the process was used to negotiate dramatic change in customary marriage law. The process was designed primarily for the purpose of improving women's rights. In the first round, amazing change was achieved, but nobody got everything they wanted. They were able to compromise, because testing and revision is built in. Women were afforded the right to own property, to initiate divorce and violence against women in marriage was outlawed. They didn't win the right to take family law matters to the mainstream courts. Nevertheless, for a process of less than a few years, that's amazing progress.
I'd suggest this kind of approach could work very well within Aboriginal communities - the women know what they need, they just need a framework to enact change. It may work within the various subcultures in India too. It'll certainly work better than white folks tut tutting at them.
1. Deveaux, M. ‘A Deliberative Approach to Conflicts of Culture’, Political Theory, 31(6), 2003: 780-807
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Yesterday in politics...
... we saw the best and worst of Julia Gillard and her government. Her 15 minute speech condemning the misogyny of Tony Abbott was amazing (transcript here). She was strong and clear and there is no doubt we needed it all to be said. And we will need it to be said again and again and again if the general response we've seen is any indication. I've seen Gillard called a hypocrite for calling Abbott "that man", on the basis that people are criticised for referring to Gillard as "that woman". Honestly, if "that woman" was the worst Gillard and the rest of us had to deal with, I'd throw my own post-feminism party and invite everyone. Gillard listed many hateful, misogynist things that Abbott has said or supported, and she didn't mention being called "that woman". It really doesn't rate.
On the other hand, on the same day, the senate passed Labor's (and therefore Gillard's) changes to the single parent payment, meaning that once their youngest child turns 8, a single parent is no longer eligible for the single parent payment. Apparently children 8 and up don't need parenting - or perhaps parenting them is not regarded as valuable work, or is something that can be squeezed in between working for a corporation. This is a disgusting move, it lets down kids and it lets down people (and let's face it, by numbers, we're still talking mostly women) doing their best to raise their kids. Apparently verbal misogyny is not on, and won't be tolerated (as it certainly shouldn't be) but institutionalised misogyny is just fine - especially if it's popular with right leaning voters.
Labor and Gillard continue to lurch to the right. While I welcome and acknowledge what Gillard has achieved with the carbon price and some semblance of a mining tax, there are so many other decisions that have been all about pandering to exactly the kind of fear and ignorance peddled by talk back radio hosts and Mr Abbott. It's deeply disappointing. I'd really like to see a great deal more of the passionate, progressive woman we saw in Question Time yesterday, and a great deal less of the popular vote chasing woman that's cutting support to some of society's most vulnerable. Yesterday was the whole Gillard government encapsulated. Moments of brilliance, interspersed with horrid politicking.
On the other hand, on the same day, the senate passed Labor's (and therefore Gillard's) changes to the single parent payment, meaning that once their youngest child turns 8, a single parent is no longer eligible for the single parent payment. Apparently children 8 and up don't need parenting - or perhaps parenting them is not regarded as valuable work, or is something that can be squeezed in between working for a corporation. This is a disgusting move, it lets down kids and it lets down people (and let's face it, by numbers, we're still talking mostly women) doing their best to raise their kids. Apparently verbal misogyny is not on, and won't be tolerated (as it certainly shouldn't be) but institutionalised misogyny is just fine - especially if it's popular with right leaning voters.
Labor and Gillard continue to lurch to the right. While I welcome and acknowledge what Gillard has achieved with the carbon price and some semblance of a mining tax, there are so many other decisions that have been all about pandering to exactly the kind of fear and ignorance peddled by talk back radio hosts and Mr Abbott. It's deeply disappointing. I'd really like to see a great deal more of the passionate, progressive woman we saw in Question Time yesterday, and a great deal less of the popular vote chasing woman that's cutting support to some of society's most vulnerable. Yesterday was the whole Gillard government encapsulated. Moments of brilliance, interspersed with horrid politicking.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Torture? Really?
For days now my Twitter feed has been full of people asserting that I've tortured all of my kids. This cartoon was being retweeted all over, praising Leunig for identifying what controlled crying is all about. Since then I've seen a whole lot of commentary about how controlled crying is cruel and torturous, and about how it's used only by the ignorant or the poor victims of society. I'm sorry, but I call bullshit.
I understand that there are many ways to parent. I get that controlled crying, in any form, isn't going to work for some people. Attachment Parenting advocates, for example, are not going to find this helpful. However, we are not all AP people. AP would NEVER work for me, but it works for lots of people and produces happy, balanced kids. I've also seen AP fail badly - but that doesn't mean AP is a failure - it just means it didn't work for those people in their circumstances. It's not reasonable to condemn an approach because sometimes it doesn't work.
So WTF gives with equating controlled crying with torture, with our government's abominable treatment of asylum seekers, and with inevitable despair and hopelessness? Do any of these people seriously think those of us who used some variation of controlled crying did so by locking our kids in their rooms without support, without love, without a whole swag of strategies to teach our kids how to settle themselves and sleep? CC is one small part of how I'm living with, teaching and loving my kids. The way I used it varied considerably between each child, and at different ages for each child. I'm fairly confident none of my children are despairing, detached and hopeless.
My eldest child possibly owes his life to CC. A friend of mine told me she dealt with the endless screaming with earplugs. That's cool, but it wouldn't have worked for me. The details of his path to sleep and happiness are too tedious to go into, but I came close to losing my shit once, and I'm glad I had CC in my repertoire (along with lots of other stuff) to get through that stage. The other two were each very different kids, and I used different versions of CC with each of them. There was very little crying at all with second born, as it happens. We're now well past all that, although we're still working through teaching the youngest to deal with her nightmares on her own. I imagine we'll still be doing that for a year or two more.
I could go through all the complexities of the way sleep was managed in our family, what the benefits were for us, why those benefits matter a great deal to us, but may not matter so much for other people and so on, but ultimately, it doesn't matter. The point is, if you're condemning me for torturing my child, you are presumably not one of the people for whom CC can be a helpful tool. You are probably approaching much of your parenting from a very different angle. I salute you. I would not inflict my style of parenting on you any more than I would fuck up my family by attempting a parenting style that I would be doomed to fail with. However, if you want to pass judgement on the way other people do things, may I respectfully suggest you make sure you're not somewhere in the vicinity of the first bump in this graph? Please?
Image credit: Meanwhile In Canada
(I should point out I recognise Mount Stupid, I've climbed right to the top too many times to count, so I'm only asking people to slide on down the other side, no hard feelings.)
I understand that there are many ways to parent. I get that controlled crying, in any form, isn't going to work for some people. Attachment Parenting advocates, for example, are not going to find this helpful. However, we are not all AP people. AP would NEVER work for me, but it works for lots of people and produces happy, balanced kids. I've also seen AP fail badly - but that doesn't mean AP is a failure - it just means it didn't work for those people in their circumstances. It's not reasonable to condemn an approach because sometimes it doesn't work.
So WTF gives with equating controlled crying with torture, with our government's abominable treatment of asylum seekers, and with inevitable despair and hopelessness? Do any of these people seriously think those of us who used some variation of controlled crying did so by locking our kids in their rooms without support, without love, without a whole swag of strategies to teach our kids how to settle themselves and sleep? CC is one small part of how I'm living with, teaching and loving my kids. The way I used it varied considerably between each child, and at different ages for each child. I'm fairly confident none of my children are despairing, detached and hopeless.
My eldest child possibly owes his life to CC. A friend of mine told me she dealt with the endless screaming with earplugs. That's cool, but it wouldn't have worked for me. The details of his path to sleep and happiness are too tedious to go into, but I came close to losing my shit once, and I'm glad I had CC in my repertoire (along with lots of other stuff) to get through that stage. The other two were each very different kids, and I used different versions of CC with each of them. There was very little crying at all with second born, as it happens. We're now well past all that, although we're still working through teaching the youngest to deal with her nightmares on her own. I imagine we'll still be doing that for a year or two more.
I could go through all the complexities of the way sleep was managed in our family, what the benefits were for us, why those benefits matter a great deal to us, but may not matter so much for other people and so on, but ultimately, it doesn't matter. The point is, if you're condemning me for torturing my child, you are presumably not one of the people for whom CC can be a helpful tool. You are probably approaching much of your parenting from a very different angle. I salute you. I would not inflict my style of parenting on you any more than I would fuck up my family by attempting a parenting style that I would be doomed to fail with. However, if you want to pass judgement on the way other people do things, may I respectfully suggest you make sure you're not somewhere in the vicinity of the first bump in this graph? Please?
(I should point out I recognise Mount Stupid, I've climbed right to the top too many times to count, so I'm only asking people to slide on down the other side, no hard feelings.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments