Thursday, March 27, 2014

My foot is in my mouth. Please help.


My foot is in my mouth
Please help
My foot is in my mouth
It is pretty hard to speak
My frustration in the form of typed words is all I’ve got

My foot is in my mouth and I can’t get it out.

My foot is in my mouth and no one can hear my corrections
My addendums
My rebuttals
To the oh so ridiculous conversation that led me here
Here,
where my foot is in my mouth

No one sees my hands waving in anger
Anger because they didn’t quite understand what I meant
My hands are too busy
Trying to get my foot out of my mouth

I’m salivating
At the thought that if I could just
If only
Ugh!
If only I could help you better understand what I REALLY! meant
Before this unfortunate tragedy
I’m salivating because I can’t swallow,
the thought that my foot is still in my mouth

I’m choking on the thought
It seems I can’t get it out
It’s clearly stuck
Maybe happy to be there
That way nothing else can get out
Leading to the further jamming of …
My foot into my mouth


Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Welcome to my love exhibition


Hi there,

Sometimes I like hanging up and letting our conversation wash over me; I fall asleep happy.

Last night after we hung up I stayed awake for a bit. I came across a post that read, “Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say”. Mitch Albom said it first. Here’s an idea I can appreciated. It’s something the women in my family have taught me - always tell the people you care about how you feel, you never know what may happen. Unfortunately, I have had moments where I kick myself thinking, I wish I had told….if only I had  said… I could have… I wish…

Today I renew my vow to an idea my mother taught me years ago. Today I commit to making a concerted effort to be more self-aware, to pay no heed to momentary shyness and embarrassment and make it a point to share how I feel.

Yes, this was brought on by something I read. But more importantly, it made me think of You. And it made me think about the people I love and cherish and care for deeply. I want to honour the emotional connections I continue to nurture and build.

I want to beckon love like a firefly in a bottle, even if only for a moment, even if I have to then watch it float away on a night sky backdrop.

Welcome to my love exhibition.


Thursday, April 25, 2013

Countering the Colonial Gaze and Gentrification

Response to Globe and Mail Article, “Why you should eat in Parc-Ex, Montreal's ungentrified ethnic food paradise” by Adam Leith Gollner
Countering the Colonial Gaze and Gentrification
Written by: Vanessa Shanti Fernando, Sidara Ahmad, Nailasada Alidina, Nadia Sheikh and Farha Najah Hussain

Following in the footsteps of a long tradition of predatory colonialist writing, food critic Adam Leith Gollner writes on an “ungentrified food paradise”, reducing a complex area in Montreal (Globe and Mail, April 2nd). As he writes, Parc-Ex is not a neighbourhood but a “habitat” and those that frequent a given restaurant are not customers but “wildlife”.  Gollner goes beyond offering insight into Parc-Ex’s gastronomical landscape; rather, he echoes colonialist tropes in presenting this neighbourhood and its inhabitants as commodities.
Amongst the transphobic and sexist observations he makes are that of a “sixty-something transsexual with a cubist face” and a “woman with Cleopatra eyes”. For those of us yearning for a description of people that extends beyond the superficial, he goes out of his way to provide us the insightful observation that the “transsexual” has “painted fingernails and long, blond, Pantene-perfect hair”. Gollner chooses a dehumanizing narrative, rather than identifying the people he observes as three dimensional human beings with aspirations. He commodifies Parc-Ex’s residents by presenting them as sensationalized Others. For Gollner, Parc-Ex is the home of “cultural communities” and “new arrivals” who run “weird driving schools”, sell “exoticisms”, and give the impression of living “on an altogether different planet”. In contrast, the “creative class” of “encroaching bohemians”, who live in the Mile End and elsewhere, are granted full humanity: they are “[a]rtists, activists, documentary filmmakers, and musicians”. Gollner places us in their vintage wingtip shoes by explaining the rise of real estate prices and interviewing people who are thinking about moving to or opening boutiques in the neighbourhood. Why aren’t Parc-Ex’s residents granted the same nuanced portrayal? Instead, Gollner brushes aside residents’ discomfort with “gentry” outsiders and encourages readers to venture into this mysterious place, to uncover this “hidden gem” and enjoy a “pre-gentrified frontier”.
Furthermore, in attempting to “other” the residents of this area, Gollner wistfully remarks that Parc-Ex is “raw, gritty, almost un-capitalist”. Except that this neighbourhood is not un-capitalist in the slightest. Life in Parc-Extension is deeply embedded within, and affected by, a capitalist system that pushes racialized communities to the margins and forces them to face layers of systemic and state violence – including poverty, racial profiling and police violence by the SPVM, and the brutality of Canadian Border Service Agents (CBSA). To qualify this area as “un-capitalist” only adds insult to injury with respect to the harsh realities people face.
We question why the article’s headline quickly changed from its original title, “Montreal’s Park Ex, an edgy hidden gem ripe for gentrification”? Was the original title too blunt about the piece’s ideological positioning? For Gollner, Parc-Ex is “a candidate for gentrification” because of its “cheap rents and central location”. Because Parc-Ex has “always been a landing spot for new arrivals”, Gollner frames increased gentrification as simply “a significant new wave”. His failure to understand the process and impact of gentrification, and ultimately support it by stating that it happens in the “best of places,” is promoting an act of systemic aggression.
Gentrification is a dynamic and violent economic process in which inhabitants of poor and working class neighborhoods are displaced from their homes and neighborhoods. This is primarily due to the fact that developers – with support of municipal politicians and governments as is the case with Parc-Extension - seek profit from relatively cheap property by constructing or converting real-estate in that area (e.g condominiums).
Gollner’s call-out to hipsters and others outside of Parc-Ex is not a harmless rallying cry. Gentrification is a very real process in Parc-Extension, as can be seen by le Projet d'aménagement d'un nouveau campus universitaire sur le site de la gare de triage d'Outremont. As stated in the “Rapport de consultation publique (2007)” by the Office de Consultation Publique de Montreal, the plan is to construct student residents, teaching and research buildings for l'Université de Montréal.  A private development of 800 units will be built, in which only 30% will be for social housing.  As Fred Burrill states in his response to Gollner's piece (Maisonneuve, April 6) Parc-Ex is “. . . a neighbourhood where almost 20 percent of the population pays 50 percent of its monthly income in rent, and where 81 percent of the total population are tenants, facing a high risk of displacement with the encroachment of condo projects and university residences”.  The displacement that Parc-Ex residents face is very real, and no laughing matter.
Gollner's piece on food is no a harmless folly. It is one that is embroiled in racist ideology and at the very least ignores the pernicious impacts of gentrification on human beings. 
As individuals who are committed to the communities within which we organise, and from which we draw inspiration in our quest for social justice, we acknowledge with great humility the creativity, strength and determination of communities and neighbourhoods who have and continue to fight against racism and gentrification.
The authors are part of the South Asian Youth (SAY) collective, in Montreal occupied Kanienkehaka (Mohawk) Territory.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Luu-ee-vee


A few months ago the Twitterverse was turned topsy-turvy. Louis Vuitton makes condoms?!?! WHosey whosey what what? And they're appropriately priced (in light of LV's general pricing) at $68.00 each.

But wait, they're fake(s). The LV condom was actually designed as a collaboration between Kirizia and Design Provocation. The condoms were supposed to launch on World AIDS Day, with all the proceeds being donated to the Foundation for AIDS Research (The Mirror UK).

I'm all for interesting ways to spread the message on World AIDS Day. I'm a huge fan of piping up and saying things like "wrap it up!", "No glove - no love" whenever there's a lull in a conversation. So don't get me wrong - I think the idea was awesome. Kudos! Who needs the Trojan man throwing condoms out into the crowd when you could have a (insert stereotypical LV consumer description here) equipped with LV purse, luggage, hair clips, scarf, whatever other ridiculously over-priced piece of mass consumerism in the form of textile you can think of, throwing special LV condoms at you?! Wait! That would never happen. The condoms are $68. You probably have to pre-order and sign up online and then wait in another line where the LV poster woman/man gently lobs the expensive prophylactic at you.

I don't support LV. I feel that companies like LV represent mass consumerism and the glorification of a lifestyle that is inaccessible and what I deem to be "fake". They represent an elitism that does not speak to me. So aligning a cause I support (AIDS awareness) with LV (albeit a fake) just rubbed me the wrong way. Do we really need companies like this to sensationalize the cause using their labelling tactics? Is a famous fashion label really the medium we need to use to get people's attention? Yet another disappointment for me to ponder tonight. Yet another reason some of the focus and attention of the masses irks me. This all makes me wonder what's next? Recently I was involved in a workshop with a group of young men where we hoped to talk about sexism in the media. The conversation led to the argument, "they are making money, what's wrong with that? You don't need to give in to the messages'" a few times that evening. So when what I deem worthy causes (yes, my personal opinion - this blog is showered with it at all times) align with companies that I easily see as aligning with patriarchal forces (and its branches: sexism, hypersexualization, gender-specific marketing and labelling...) it depresses me just a little bit.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Falling In Love

I have always tried to be the kind of person who took full responsibility for her actions. I follow the ideology that 10 years from now I don't want to be blaming anyone for any missed opportunities, botched jobs, falters, errors etc. I want to be held accountable. And I think I've done a decent job of that, thus far. I take responsibility for my actions and how they sometimes affect those around me. But there are moments of weakness when I wish I had all the perks of adulthood, but the benefits of someone else pulling all the right strings, making the perfect decisions, rendering immaculate results.

Sometimes I wish someone would fix me. Or at the very least tell me how to do it so I could get over the hump and just be good already. But apparently this is the 'real world' and you have to work hard at bettering yourself. Shit gets hard to do and sometimes if you've been down for so long, the trek back up seems far, maybe even pointless. But oh gosh! are there advantages to getting on top of things and putting your all into it! Even if you don't see immediate results, at least you can go to bed knowing that you juiced yourself to the last drop in pursuit of something important [to you].

In recent weeks I've seen myself succeed and I've seen myself falter - in some of the smallest and some of the most significant of situations! And as much as I sit back and hate the feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me in that Rrrrroll-up-the-rim-to-win-voice, "Try again", I find strength and empowerment in the voice in the back of my head that says "Keep on trekking, you're getting there". So, as much as I want to be spoon-fed easy answers and solutions to life's trivia; I relish the idea that I can and will work hard to constantly better myself. Because I've seen the fruits of my efforts and though I'm sure the journey will be a constant, I'm slowly falling in love with the process. These are the wise words of a wise man who once told me that the secret is to simply "fall in love" with all of it.

PS. Has it really been 2 months since my last post?! Ick. 

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

“But I feel good and happy so it’s okay.”

Have you ever been sitting on the bus and as you become conscious of your surroundings you realise that you have the goofiest of smiles on your face? I happen to love that moment. There’s no embarrassment there, it fuels the fires and all of a sudden I want to giggle. I giggle a lot.

It’s funny how the mind works sometimes. I often break out the psychoanalysis and try to understand the silver lining that is my muddled psyche. I like to think that though I am an incredibly emotional person and react strongly to various elements of my life, I am also a very rational person when I need to be. *cue laughter* Recent experiences have taught me that I can, in fact, shut off parts of myself and focus on the logical and rational – I know. You’re reading this and uttering my famous “pfft”. But it’s true! It feels like I’ve grown and matured in my thinking; I’m better able to read myself and gauge what I need and don’t need. I’m quite proud of myself.

But then I get happy. It takes over. I get crushed under the weight of my emotions on a constant basis, so it’s perfectly normal for that to happen with the positive as well as the negative emotions. But this makes me think… if I really believe that I’ve gotten to a point when I can brush it all aside and use this magical “rational and logical” part of my brain then how is it that when I’m happy, the happy takes over? But then that makes me think…why do I like the idea of a “rational and logical” part taking the reigns? Then that makes me think… what in the hell is this part of my brain and does it really exist? BUT THEN… why do I value it so much? To the point that as I’m writing this it feels like I’m undervaluing and belittling the oh-so-powerful emotions that drive and motivate every fibre of my being? Am I sorry? Am I apologizing? Urm…

Writing really is cathartic.

Dear supposed rational and logical part of my brain,

You’re super cool. If you really exist then I must tell you: I appreciate you and what you stand for. You’re nice to have around as a crutch once in a while. But listen, I really like those spikey bursts of emotion that wake up my insides every morning…so I’m going to go out and make those guys a set of house keys. You…well…it’s buzzer #506 when you come ‘round.

Eve Ensler said it perfectly, “I am an emotional creature”. 

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Ladies Love Cool James, but NCIS... I don’t quite love you.

Dear NCIS and whomever this may concern, 

I recently plopped myself in front of the television to watch an NCIS marathon. Let me tell you, you have some very pretty people on the show! LL Cool J - are you furrreal?! And that little woman running the show with her iron fist, mushy heart and bag of tricks – she’s great, too! So what am I complaining about, you ask? Not only has the dialogue gone from cute partner-ly banter to predictable, but you are slowly rotting the impressionable minds of the you who make up the fabric of society. The show is popular, and of course entertaining but at what cost? I’m not one to write about the plight of the Muslim in the Western world, but here goes it! 

Every episode they are chasing a new breed of terrorist: the shady immigrant, the air pilot, the home-grown disgruntled, and even the well-established business man wearing a beautiful Italian suit. I know you’re thinking, “but they are all so different Naila, where on Earth are you going with this?” Aha! But they have something in common....Arabic last names. So yes, American public, they might be terror suspects, regardless of anything save for their names. Better check with local authorities before engaging them in pleasantries!