University English

     Mandatory or Optional?

     As an undergraduate student at the University of Alberta, we are required to achieve a minimum of 6 credits in junior English. Should this be mandated or should this be optional? Had you asked me this at the beginning of my education I would have said that it was unnecessary, in fact I would have gone so far as to say it is a cash grab (as I feel so many things are) at the university. However, as I have progressed through my course work I have not only rediscovered my love of literature but have decided to make English my minor. The act of researching and connecting ideas makes me feel as though I am an explorer; it is a valuable skill to have as everything we do is expressed in language in one form or another. 

     My first university course was a Comparative Literature class. Truth be told, a large part of me enrolled in Comparative Literature because I had been wrongly informed that the courses were equivalent to a junior English class and could be used instead. I was also greatly amused with the prefix “CLit” and yes I do ask myself at times if I am 13 years old or 31. I was so new to the university that I thought the “352” portion of “CLit 352” meant the room number. I was shocked to discover that my first university class after 11 years out of high school was a 3rd year course. 

  I feel I have to justify my eleven years out of high school. During my APT, a student in my English 30-1 class asked me my age. He laughed that a 31 year old would still be in university and muttered under his breath that he never wants to be “that old”. Obviously, I must have some sort of deficiency and perhaps I do. 

  You see, I have always been restless. I want it all and I want it all right now. Not in the sense of material goods but I hunger for experiences. I want to know it all, see it all and understand it all right now. This has lead me to purchase a lot of plane tickets, move too many times and to value my portability almost to the point that I still am unsure if I am capable of staying. 

  When I did finally go back to post secondary education, it was on my own terms. I studied for two years, began and finished my apprenticeship. I am now a red seal pastry chef and because of Alberta Education's initiative to place trades people into the classrooms, I have had the honor of being 1 of 19 people in Alberta who has received an astounding grant to studying education. As a result, I have a full time teaching position next year. 

  So, what I am trying to say is that without all of these experiences I would not have been the right person to receive this grant. There is nothing I could have done to plan this outcome. All of the countries, the jobs and the training had a reason. Even though I didn’t know it at the time. They are now stories, perspectives and skills that I have of which Alberta Education would like in the classrooms. Well... maybe not the stories.   

  It is the process that is important. Even if you do not see the utility of a junior English class right now, it will be worth its weight in the future. At times we can not see the big picture until we have a chance to step away and recognize its effects. 

Rutherford

The air is still and heavy

Feet shuffling between the rows

The weight of what I haven’t thought of

stacked precariously in my arms.

I like to imagine my meager weight means anything 

to those worn marble stairs

Each step I take,

my soles cradled like familiar bodies

we have begun to understand our fit.

Is this important?

In here, everything is important.

Each step leaves its weight behind

Like the marble stairs

it adds up.

The Alarming Ratio of Boys to Girls

Well Really... What Would You Prefer? 

     Would I prefer to have a son or a daughter? I am really not sure I care very much either way. I suppose, if I am ever to have children, the question may weigh a little heavier on my psyche but for now I have concerns on both sides. For instance, if I had a son, would I connect with him in the same way I would if I had had a daughter? However, I also know that if I had a daughter I would want her to be a strong and adventurous woman. A woman who is not afraid of the world but sees it like I do. How do I see it you ask? I see the world as my oyster... that’s right... I said MY oyster not yours. 

  Perhaps there in lies the problem; I am much to selfish to have children. Surely most new parents overcome their selfish urges and so I have faith my focus will shift one day from the self-centered position I currently occupy. I am hopeful for a moment then a thought squeaks in... what if my daughter's hobbies amount to “tanning”? It would drive me mental! Bam! I am right back to being selfish.  

  As I read the selected articles and am prompted with questions concerning morality and ethics I feel myself divide in two: what I am supposed to think and what I actually do think. 

  Is it morally right to abort a child if it is a girl? I suppose it depends on whose morals set the criteria. I am unsure if “Kelly, the caucasian from Canada” is the right person to decided what is right or wrong for other people in other parts of the world. On the other hand, maybe I am as good a person as any to make that judgement call: is there not one single moral shared by humanity?

  Here in lies the struggle. The idealistic part of me believes that when you decide to have children, you accept all of the associated risks. I also know that it is not as simple as that. If I am being honest, there are a plethora of compelling reasons women and men would seek to abort a baby: developmental or physical disabilities, cases of incest or rape. However, can the sex of your child be seen as detrimental as a severe disability? 

     I can understand the disbelief and disgust which grips a large proportion of men and women; aborting babies on the sole discrepancy of sex is terrible. In fact, it would be foolish to argue any differently. However, from the comfort and anonymity of my laptop, I will say this.

  I hardly know a thing about anything. Perhaps the associated costs of having a female baby in India is equivalent to giving birth to a child with sever disabilities. Perhaps there is nothing wrong with selecting the sex of your child if it is in the greater interest of your family. Who is to say that the birthrate of females will not mirror the effects of a pendulum swinging from one extreme to another? Perhaps the decimation of a population must occur in order to renegotiate the status of women? Honestly, in the end I think it doesn’t really matter. Life creates conditions conducive to life.

This may interest some of you...

Sam Harris: Science Can Answer Moral Questions

Culture and Tradition

To Keep or Not to Keep...

     Like a majority of Canadians, I am of European decent. I can not say that my family has a specific culture as I have witnessed in other families, however, somewhere in my ancestry I have some English, German, Irish and French. At times this cultural combination can leave me feeling inclined to squeeze into lederhosen, pick a fight and Colonize a developing nation while the French part of me heavily judges my every action. 

     Joking aside, I was born and spent my childhood in Montreal, Quebec. My great grandmother and grandfather immigrated from Germany (originally Romania) to Montreal in 1921. My grandmother, Emma Pauline Yvorchuk, the eldest of the four daughters, lived with her family in the basement of a Jewish school of which her father, Ferdinand Yvorchuk (later changed to Horne) was employed as a custodian. She married my grandfather Frank Roach, a reporter for CBC News in Montreal. 

     My father was raised in a typical Roman Catholic family. My grandmother French and my grandfather (with the last name Hobbs) English. With nine children, the family struggled financially and to this day, the most direct route to my fathers heart is through his stomach. He loves to feed and care for his family. 

     The only significant cultural aspect I can think of that may have been past down was perhaps our religious background. Both my mother and father and in turn my brother and I were raised in the Roman Catholic Church. However, in my early twenties I turned to the Anglican Church on account three things: 

1. Their lower guilt to sin ratio, 

2. They had begun performing same-sex marriages and I thought    

    that was extremely forward thinking and 

3. The church was two minutes from my house and I was a 

    incredibly lonely at the time. 

     I have since moved away from the church and Catholicism in general. I respect an individuals commitment to their spirituality, however, I feel there is a difference between following ones religion and following religions followers, as it is my belief that any true God would not be vengeful. I do not see myself passing along the Roman Catholic faith specifically however I would like to pass on my beliefs that an individuals commitment to religion or spirituality can be beautiful as long as religion or spirituality does not hurt others. 

Monsoon Wedding

     Reaction to Monsoon Wedding 

     This was my first time watching Monsoon Wedding and I truly enjoyed it. The love and tenderness in each relationship: Lalit and Pimmi, Alice and P.K, Aditi and Hemant fascinated me. I am, however, now obsessed with marigolds; why do Alice and Parabatlal Kanhaiyalal (P.K. Dubey) eat them and if I start eating marigolds, will I find love?  

     I think what I loved most of all was the feelings that this movie brought back to me. I could smell the monsoon rain, feel the heaviness in the air, the anticipation. From my window, I remember watching people wade through the sudden rush of water. I remember my toes dipping into the cool water with each revolution of my bicycle's pedal. Squinting up into the rain; the overhead electrical wires bundle and hang precariously in the wind. 

     I can still feel the energy of the city. The mad and vibrant hustle that made my heart pound so hard I was always conscious of being alive. In truth, I could not sleep at night without a nip of liquid valium which I would purchase from the Chemist on the corner. I remember trying to sort out what a “chemist” shop even was. 

Chemist Shop

     I recall hanging my bag and all of my belongings from wall hooks provided in each of the little rooms I would rent. I had a system... if I had nothing on the floor and if I did not carry any food, the rats would hardly have a reason to rummage around in my (at this point meager) belongings. You see, I am a 'loser' among other things; if my belongings are not physically attached to me chances are that I will not have them for long. It would be in your best interest to never lend me anything. 

     I can feel the cramped roads, the sari shops of Old Delhi and the rituals that go along with it. Cups of chia passed around as silk saris are unfolded and presented. The ISD and STD phone booths, the shaved ice popsicles, the sugar cane and the beautiful street-food. 

Old Delhi

     I can remember the water shortages... not a drop of water from 9am till 4pm or when the power would go out and all of Delhi would be black and quiet. One by one the shops would begin to light candles and there would be peace for only a few moments. I loved those moments and in them the city would slow down, like the dark made every movement as thick as molasses... and when the generators would kick back in, the frantic nature of the city would return.

     The chaos of India has its own rhythm and eventually you begin to beat with it. It is like a song that is stuck in your head, a muscle memory subconsciously engrained; often forgetting it is even there. It just becomes a part of you.

Waiting for my laundry to dry.

The Times Of India

Liberation by Fire

The deaths of women in “kitchen fires” is unfortunately not new to India and neither are the many other forms of violence; “ranging from humiliation, harassment, and exploitation to torture” (Kumar, and Kanth 18). The newspaper The Times of India, recently reported two cases of fire related deaths; one article entitled Woman Burnt to Death, Hubby Held briefly describes the story of a Jaipur woman, 22 year-old Mumtaz who “failed to meet [her husbands] dowry demand of Rs 1.50 lakh”(The Times Of India) and was “set ablaze”, later succumbing to her brutal “80% burn injuries” (The Times Of India ). In a second article, Rape Victim Dies After Suicide Bid, highlights the story of a 15 year old girl who was raped in Kanchanpura village before committing suicide. The Karauli girl “depressed over the incident, poured kerosene over her[self] and set herself on fire” (The Times Of India).

Dr. Virendra Kumar, the author of the scholarly article Bride Burning describes this practice as a “barometer of social health” (18) which corresponds to the “slow and haphazard”(18) progression and “implementation of laws granting rights to women” (18) in India. Dr. Kumar extends an explanation, highlighting the ancient tradition of “bestowing of dowries” (Kumar, and Kanth 18). Traditionally, the “dowry” is the opposite of a “bride price” in which the bride’s parents essentially “pay” the husband and husband’s parents in the form of money, jewelry, land or other valuable goods to secure the marriage. If the “dowry demands are not met, husbands and in-laws may threaten the bride by burning her” or may use other forms of violence to pressure the bride and parents into meeting financial demands. At times, the abused bride may turn to “suicide as an escape from the brutality of their situation” (Kumar, and Kanth 18). In the case of the 15 year old Karauli girl above, rape may have brought such shame upon herself and family that she felt that she was left with no other choice. Alternatively, one could speculate that the young Karauli girl may have been both a victim of rape and homicide, as a staggering 21% of the suicide related fire deaths reported are in fact the act of “deliberate burning” (Kumar, and Kanth 18).

  It is important to note that not all kitchen fires are the result of unmet dowries or  suspicions of infidelity, as “[f]aulty kerosene stoves [are] in widespread use, especially among the poor,” (Kumar, and Kanth 18) and thousands of women and men are reportedly killed each year. One can not dismiss, however, the disproportionate number of “[s]udden, mysterious deaths of women early in married life” (Kumar, and Kanth 19). 

Dr. Virendra Kumar implies that India may see a decrease in the practice of bride burning as the slow and at times impervious movement towards gender equality is accomplished by a “number of changes” (Kumar, and Kanth 19); beginning with “an increase in the standard of education for women, which will encourage economic and emotional independence”(Kumar, and Kanth 19). In addition to this educational reform, law enforcement must practice the “proper implementation of existing laws along with new, stricter legislation to abolish dowery related crimes” (Kumar, and Kanth 19). This foundation of change, however, must be born of grassroots origin; resisting the desensitization to a practice deeply ingrained in Indian society coupled with educational reform, India is one step closer to narrowing the gender gap.

Background on Location

Jaipur, the capital city of Rajasthan is located in a dry lake bed surrounded by arid foothills. These semi-desert hilltops in the north eastern region on India, are dotted with “old forts and crenellated walls” (Singh, Saxton, Christine, Cannon, and Davis 646). Commonly called the Pink City “because of the pink-coloured buildings in its old city,” (Singh, Saxton, Christine, Cannon, and Davis 646) the stark and barren city outskirts are a complete contrast to the vibrant colour and hustle and bustle of the metropolitan capital of which Jaipur has become. 

Jaipur, India- 2000


Works Cited

Kumar, Virendra, and Sarita Kanth. "Bride Burning." Lance 
     364.18-19 (2004): n. pag. Web. 14 May 2011. 

Singh, Sarina, Phillipa Saxton, Niven Christine, Teresa Cannon, 
     and Peter Davis. "Jaipur." Lonely Planet: India. 8th. Victoria, 
     Australia: Lonely Planet Publications Pty Ltd, 1999. Print.

The Times of India

Article 1 Title: Woman Burned To Death, Hubby Held

Link: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/jaipur/Woman-burnt-to-death-hubby-held/articleshow/8309315.cms

Article 2 Title: Rape Victim Dies After Suicide Bid

Link: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/jaipur/Rape-victim-dies-after-suicide-bid/articleshow/8309318.cms

Music From Anita Desai Novel: Clear Light of Day

First Impressions

Sitting on my porch. It is a very windy day. I am watching a combination of students, healthcare employees and various others parade down my street, as I dawn my headphones. You see, my street is the sort of place that is close enough to the University to walk to but far enough for the city to not bother with parking permits. If I lived 200 meters west of where I’m currently sitting I could cross the street without having to slide over the hoods of the tightly pressed vehicles parked in a rush... but I digress.

I am listening to the songs sequentially. Smoke in Your Eyes, Don’t Fence Me In, White Christmas... BAM! O Zindagi Ke Denewale! I try to put it in order.

         A work gang chanting, a train chugging, something strangely mechanical and cold. I feel as though I am orally witnessing a prison work gang swinging pick axes in unison. The music demands my attention. Perhaps the rhythm of chanting so closely resembling the beating of a heart is the reason I find it initially mesmerizing; my emotional buy-in grows exponentially when the vocals begin. 

The voice begs and pleads in contrast to the incessant chugging. In my minds eye I see the voice as a lone person walking against the crowds. Enslaved and helpless; struggling for something that I know deeply and of which I do not know at all. The music has movement but it’s mechanical and methodical. I wonder what type of love he must by dying from.  

Background: O Zindagi Ke Denewale

The 1954 film Nagin has been described as a “primitive love fantasy” (Rajadhyaksha, and Willemen 337) in which the heroine, actress Vyjayanthimala and her male counterpart Kumar, both “play professional snake catcher[s] for different tribal groups” (Rajadhyaksha, and Willemen 337);the love of these two characters result in their “respective clans go[ing] to war” 337). In dramatic Bollywood fashion, the “snake sent to kill the hero bites the heroine instead, he then rescues her by sucking the poison out of her body” (Rajadhyaksha, and Willemen 337). Coupled with the storyline, both the music, camera angles and lighting further accentuate the dramatic flare that Bollywood films are accustomed too. 

O Zindagi Ke Denewale was originally recorded for “one of the biggest post-Independence musical hits” (Rajadhyaksha, and Willemen 113) in Bollywood. The 1954 production of Nagin highlighted the talents of Bengali-Hindi composer Hermanta Kumar Mukerjee*. Born in Varanasi, Kumar “[l]eft school to become a professional singer” and “[f]rom the 50’s onwards his voice incarnated Bengali’s middle class romanticism, having an enduring influence on all male playback singers in the language ever since” (Rajadhyaksha, and Willemen 236). The dramatic music of Hermant Kumar, in particular O Zindagi Ke Denewale is complemented by the films lighting and camera angles.  

Nandlal Jaswantla, a Hindi director born in Bardoli, was further “[a]dmired for his sophisticated lighting. Used extreme close ups and unusual angles creating disjointed but dramatic and sensual spaces” (Rajadhyaksha, and Willemen 113). A prime example of this is the visual desperation is captured in figure 1. The face of the hero, angled upwards and bathed in light as the shadows of marching people position him as if behind prison bars. This insinuates entrapment, adding to Kumars expressive O Zindagi Ke Denewale.

Works cited

Mukerjee, Hermanta Kumar, Perf. Nagin. Dir. Nandlal Jaswantla."   

            Perf. Vyjayanthimala, , and Pradeep Kumar. Filmistan: 

            1954, Film.

Rajadhyaksha, Ashish, and Paul Willemen. Encylopaedia of Indian 

           Cinema. New Revised Edition. New Delhi, India: Oxford 

           University Press, 1994. Print. 

*Commonly referred to as Hermant Kumar

O Zindagi Ke Denewale - Pradeep Kumar, Hemant Kumar, Nagin 

Follow this link to read the translated lyrics: O Zindagi Translated Lyrics