My First Protest - Idle No More

Solidarity, joy and communal energy. These are not the sentiments I expected to feel when I attended my first protest, part of Idle No More, a movement which defends the sovereignty of Indigenous Canadians through the protection and defense of treaties and human rights.  I have always questioned the usefulness of protests as a valid form of provoking dialogue. Our society tends to be saturated by them and I have always viewed manifestations under a black and white lens, are they successful or not? What does successful mean? By what standard is success rated when talking about a protest? 

Protests are often critiqued when they turn violent and lack direction or are poorly organized and executed, an excuse to shout and scream without ever actually saying something. Protests have a tendency to be viewed as a trend that peaked in the 1960's and 70's. Those who attend and organize protests can be seen as hippies who smoke too much pot, flighty people who use disconnected jargon for concepts for which they do not completely understand the meaning.

One of the drummers in his red cape at the Eaton Center for an Idle No More flash mob.

 If we pay attention however, to the way our protests and to more importantly how our awareness and dialogue have changed over the years, we must come to the conclusion that there have been no failures in our society in giving voice to causes that lack and demand one. We are learning from past mistakes. The word "hippy" was simply a word used to describe a community of people who opened their eyes to see injustice and who  therefore chose not to accept the status quo. There is no longer one "type of protester" because, globally, there is so much to protest and so many more issues that need a voice. 

The hippy movement may not have succeeded in achieving everything it set out to do, but at least a collective voice was heard and change was made. Change, as we all know does not happen over night but the voice was strong enough that it permeated into the universal psyche and we live with some of the positive changes that were created then. 

As I read and hear so many chiefs and leaders of the movement proclaim, Idle No More is not only a movement important because it represents native Canadians, it is also important for non-natives. The treaties the movement fights to protect, include treaties that speak to the access to public waterways, resources used by all Canadians. The movement could garner so much more energy from non-natives by acting on this sentiment by introducing and educating non-natives to the traditions and the movement itself.

Impromptu dance circle, a very common action to take place at the Idle No More manifestations and flash mobs.

 Perhaps setting up an easy to spot booth in the center of the manifestations where non-natives could come to read and learn more about the movement and why it is important. What about on-the spot drumming and chanting lessons?  In attending the protest at the Toronto Eaton Center, the hairs were sticking up on the back of my neck and I felt a great connection, a rootedness as I not only listened but felt the chanting and drumming. Imagine the impact if all three levels in a massive shopping mall were chanting and drumming. Imagine the sense of unity, imagine the power...

 I may have a European background with a hint of cree, but there is no time to be wasted on pessimism and "white man's guilt." There is only time for learning and growth. Our old ways and systems are not working for us anymore and it is now, more than ever, when it could not be more evident. 

So for the pessimists who do not believe in the effectiveness of a protest, rather than absorb that pessimism, take what you know and turn it into something positive. If you no longer can sit on the couch feeling useless, guilty and pity, feeling sad that such things happen in this world, I say stop feeling sad. Get up and be idle no more. 

Many posters such as this one were floating off of railings on various levels inside the Eaton Center. 

What's your therapy?

The other day I started to reflect on the meaning of therapy, outside of the barriers of a certain image so many of us hold; a living room like setting, lying on a chaise longue, spilling out our most intimate stories to a complete stranger. I have come to realize that this is not always how therapy works.  More and more everydayI also realize that the heart speaks the same language everywhere I go. As stigmatized as it is, therapy is in fact something everyone around the world desires andthat which we seekfor ourselves on a daily basis without even realizing it. 

This thought process began for me the other evening when my boyfriend’s uncle Rufostarted to chat with me about a voluntary activity I had been participating in for the past couple of weeks. He had thought that my helping local families in a rural neighbourhood with their vegetable plots,was part of a project I was assigned to. I explained that organic agriculture was in fact an interest of mine and that it was something to keep me busy, that I took great satisfaction in doing and that I did voluntarily. “Ah yes, “he said, “It’s your therapy.” Indeed it is. “I have my therapy too,” he began to tell me in Spanish, “Sometimes I will wash laundry with my wife,” he reflected, “The other day I washed for the ENTIRE day, non-stop!” I realized part of the healing aspect in that for him, “It is the using of your hands that is so therapeutic, isn’t it?” I asked Rufo. “Yes!” He replied enthusiastically.

I understood Rufo completely. Something about using our hands and moving our body in a slow or methodical way can have a soothing impact andallow us to drain out the noisy thoughts that so often plague our minds and allow us to just be. 

This was a moment where Rufo had opened up to me unexpectedly. It was one of those beautiful moments where two people who normally have the run of the mill, “how are you?” “I am fine and you?” type conversation all of a sudden broke out of that routine and shared a part of their lives they may not normally share with others. 

I have looked around and realized that we all have our ways of de-stressing. We all have our own therapy. My boyfriend’s is to play soccer. He runs and plays until the sun goes down and until he forgets what he started worrying about in the first place. 

For me, it is getting my hands in the dirt, to surround myself and to feel one with nature, as cliché as that sounds. I stop feeling boredom, suffering or pain when I am in the garden with my hands in the dirt or watering the crops. I am able to be in the moment like I used to be when I was a child, playing in the dirt. Nothing else really matters, the sun shines on my back, I have nowhere to be and I couldn’t be more satisfied. Farming is a methodical routine, which repeats a lot of the same actions over and over again. I guess that is what I love about it though. It’s soothing and satisfying work watching what you plant come to life as a healthy, glowing fruit of your labour, no pun intended! As my therapy, farming and gardening feeds my soul, when I start to do it, it feels as though my body had been craving it forever. 

I think that if we all could fill our day by doing only the things that our soul craved we would be a much happier, healthier, open-minded society. We would talk openly about our problems, pain and suffering to each other, even with people we do not know that well. We would live moment to moment, relishing in every smell, sight, sound and touch experienced on a daily basis. Imagine a society where we wouldn’t hurt so much, where suffering wasn’t stigmatized andwhere everything seemed simpler and void of confusion?

I ask the question then, what else would our society be like if the only choice we had was to feed our soul’s truest desires?

Everyday is a day to be thankful.

I am thankful for so much today. I am thankful for travel to places that allow me to open my eyes and reflect on what I have and where I come from. I am thankful for the talented people I surround myself with, both friends and family, you continue to amaze and astound me on a daily basis. I am thankful for my education that has brought me to where I am today. I am thankful for the ability to find

 humility, grace and strength when under the stresses and pressures life throws me. I am thankful for epiphanies abroad and taking nothing for granted. I am thankful for being a free and educated woman passionate about many causes. I am thankful for love, especially for the self, for it weren't for love of myself , I would not be able to show so much love to those I surround myself with. Happy Thanksgiving, Canada.

Inspired and Unified, Feminist Evolution Around the World.

Recently, two very talented colleagues and female friends of mine wrote two great blogs about feminism and the status of women in both Ghana and Nicaragua. The combination of these blogs, an inspiring conversation and living in Matagalpa, Nicaragua, have enhanced my view on women's rights and their importance for Nicaraguans. I can't help but do so, the passion here is palpable. 

 Little did I know before returning to Nicaragua, that the organization I would be working for is more of a feminist organization, than it is an environmental one. The environment and the protection of natural resources is ANIDES's main focus, with women's rights inherent in this issue. Furthermore, there are a plethora of feminist organizations in Matagalpa...I was amazed upon arriving how many I noticed: Pro Woman, CARE, The Nicaraguan Communal Movement, and Grupo Venancia; A group of women who work in solidarity to promote the rights of women through a variety of means including educational workshops, cultural programs, popular campaigns and even a radio show. 

The sight of these organizations and working for ANIDES got me to thinking. I have always had my opinions about feminism, one being that so many radical feminists never appeared, to me, to seek true equality. As I perceived them, radical feminists believed women should become the more powerful gender, economically, socially and politically. Sort of like the rise of the underdog. After taking a variety of gender studies courses throughout my university career, I was always left with a bad taste in my mouth when learning about radical feminism. We were taught equality meant a perfect equilibrium, socially, politically and economically between men and women, so then why would a group of feminists, fighting for such a concept, want to "bring men down," as it appeared to me? The more I learn, however, the more insight I gain and the more inspired I become.

It was not until I came back to Nicaragua this year, and observed this country that is going through a great evolution ( Nicaragua is one of the only countries in the world with a complete ban on abortion, with many a feminist group speaking against this) , that I have begun to understand what the feminist fight is all about. As I write this I feel slightly ignorant. I am after all , an educated woman who has taken a variety of courses on this subject and yet I am just coming to form somewhat of a clear opinion on the rights of my own gender. Everything has its time, I suppose.

 I came to some of my realizations last week-end, among a group of girlfriends. We were a divided group, geographically, half from Canada, half from Finland. The local Spanish school, a hub for foreigners alike to come and learn and practice their Spanish, only hires women. Myself and others have spoken up to what I perceive as a discriminating act. Apparently the school has had "issues" in the past with every man they have hired and so ceased to do so. The school has a very strong and clear feminist mandate which I support but still could not understand why they didn't hire men if they claimed to believe in true equality? I made a comment to one of my Canadian friends and colleagues, Hannah, in our conversation last week-end, "If it is a feminist school, then why don't they hire men??" I said, totally perplexed. Hannah replied something along the lines of , and I paraphrase, "Well, it is an extreme stance yes, but it is also an evolution. They are going through an evolution." One simple comment and in that moment, an epiphany came upon me. "You are right, you are so right," I said, a light bulb had gone off. 

Just like so many societies,  Nicaragua is going through its own evolution and evolution is messy and complicated. Humans go through change just like societies do and in order to find our balance as beings, we sometimes need  to go off the deep end, go to the extreme,  just to get to the other side where everything seems a little bit clearer and we find our equilibrium, whatever that looks like. Evolution takes time. If anything, change does not happen overnight. 

 How we converse about women's rights in Canada has progressed in leaps and strides. The dialogue surrounding rape education given to women has greatly changed. We have come to a greater understanding of the responsibility of the perpetrator and educating men, the actual threat, rather than providing one  patronizing speech after the other to women, preaching how they need to avoid being raped. This kind of dialogue is more and more present. Just like Nicaragua, however, Canada has gone through an evolution in opinions and dialogue. Our consciousness is evolving. 

All of the bother, frustration and misunderstanding I had for feminists who appeared so radical, cleared. That conversation with Hannah still resonates with me and in the last week I have come to find a great peace in my heart. I feel more proud and more empowered than ever before to be a woman. I feel stronger than ever as well, to fight for my and every woman's rights. 

These decals are spray painted all over the walls of Matagalpa. The feminist energy here is enough to inspire anyone.

As I looked around at the spray-painted decals on the outside of people's homes that say, "In this house, we are against sexual abuse," and at the pro-choice marches down the main street of Matagalpa, I always stood in shock and discomfort ; this seems so radical I thought, there must be some major problems here in Nicaragua," and "Women seem so passionate and demanding, so much so they march around screaming for their rights." 

All women have the same rights and the same need for coming together in solidarity, we are in this movement together, wherever it may lead us. We are all one. Perhaps we will find the equality we all so passionately demand one day, but for now let us rejoice in what we have accomplished today and take comfort in the fact that nothing is permanent, change is bound to come.  

Suffering

Suffering is constantly reminding me that there is good stuff patiently waiting for me on the other side.

My first poem ever.

 Starting something can be the hardest part
 But just pick up and start
 The rest will follow, and soon
 You will find your flow, your rhythm,
 Progress and a vision.

The Politics of Agriculture

A question that has to come to mind in light of recent observations in the community in which I have been working is what is considered a fair price for food? In my opinion, if produce has been grown organically, it should cost more, no matter what the size of the vegetable. I always thought in terms of size and amount but now that I am on the other side of the coin, that is, observing how farmers cultivate and working for a pro-rural environmental organization, my perspective has greatly changed. Food is a precious thing and it does not simply appear out of nowhere, it takes a lot of hard work to produce and it is this hard work that usually goes unrecognized by the rest of the world.

Is pricing a complicated issue? Should it be a tug of war between consumer, buyer and farmer? How do politics fit in? As I see it, so much is involved in the cost of our vegetables, especially if they are organic. In my opinion, those who have money to spend need to adjust their perception and start to re-think the terms “cheap” and “expensive.” I consider my food my medicine…and just for one minute, let’s stop and think about how much you might pay to make yourself feel better if you struggled with a bad cold come winter time. What if you knew that your diet and the food you ate could help to avoid those nasty colds? Take out all those pesticides and you are left with a real vegetable that will not contaminate your body. If food has a power to heal, then it should be anything but cheap.

Beyond having healing properties, growing and producing food is quite the costly and laborious task. Within the cost of produce has to be considered a transport fare to get the food to and from the farm where it was grown.  The person who is doing the organizing and shipping of the vegetables needs to be paid, so labour should be included in the cost. But the biggest portion I believe should go towards paying the farmers. Growing vegetables organically involves much more labour than growing conventionally; the management of the soil, the preparation of organic compost, and companion planting to name just a few. Farmers perform most of the labour and are doing the growing and oftentimes the selling! Beyond this there is just simply something called a “fair price”, to me that would mean market price or higher, especially if produce is organic.

As my internship continues, or what I see as a journey of constant and never ending learning, I am developing a greater sense of the situation facing rural Nicaraguans on a daily basis. I visited a project I worked on last year in a community called Santiago, to have a chat with a community leader Marta Hernandez. Marta’s was one of the first plots we worked with and she fell into her leadership role quite naturally! I remember feeling so uncertain about the project, would the living fencing make roots or would it rot? Would the garden plots be plagued with insects? Would the families give up?  Or worse would the families start to use pesticides? After talking to the intern who currently manages projects, some of my fears came true, but some of the families, six to be exact including Marta’s, had patience and it certainly paid off.  Many families are perfectly successful producing beautiful organic vegetables (albeit smaller in size than pesticide, genetically modified produce) and they have even expanded their plots to grow more and are now selling their crop to a local restaurant and the Eco-Hotel and Spanish School where I worked.

The community I work with currently, Pueblo Viejo do not grow organic and still struggle to even enter the market with their produce, the market is flooded from so many producers that farmers become desperate and sell at an ultra-low price, usually being ripped off in the process. Farmers do not end up gaining anything from the transaction, safe money for gas they used to get their truck to and from the city.

I would suggest that the families organize and sell between themselves, however there isn’t a custom of eating vegetables in many rural Nicaragua communities such as Santiago or Pueblo Viejo . Beyond this are cultural patterns that have been warped and changed over time based on colonial interference, for example the creation of a culture of mistrust.  In conversing with Gloria, I said “but I don’t understand, it hasn’t always been this way in Nicaragua, has it?” “No,” she replied “It is something that was introduced by foreign powers when creating colonies, the indigenous were split apart into separate communities and forced to rival against one another.” 

Organizing one’s community involves investing a great deal of trust in your neighbours. This sense of trust and openness does not tend to exist in many rural communities in Nicaragua. I was baffled. In the small town and big city where I have lived, I have found the sense of openness so refreshing as people appear to be so friendly, neighbours talking to neighbours, making eye contact as opposed to flippantly walking past each other on the street (as in a big city like Toronto), and taking care of each other’s children, rather than depend on a day care facility. But perhaps these behavioural patterns are just the remnants of what was left after colonial powers stripped Nicaragua of many things, including systematic norms set in place by the indigenous. It appears as though small communities don’t even trust their own local leader as he or she is considered to be corrupt.

Individual men and women could theoretically come together and sell their produce collectively, this way they would make a fairer profit selling to one buyer who is in need of a large quantity of one particular produce, i.e. rice or beans. (gallo pinto is the country’s national dish: red kidney beans and white rice cooked in olive oil and onions…quite delicious !) The lack of trust between community members however halts any collaboration of any kind.

Some suggestions and solutions have come up in conversation with Gloria to the aforementioned problems. Nutrition trainings, government food policies that restrict the market and only allow farmers to sell in their region based on the amount and type of produce they have to sell, and education. When I refer to education, I refer to the kind that promotes fundamentals like collectivity, trust, peace, honesty and a just society for everyone. But as I am quickly learning, just like so many things, trust and collectivity are not cultivated overnight.

I am learning that although there appears to be deep ingrained behaviour in a particular society, it does not mean this behaviour is desired or benefiting the country’s development. Changing behaviour is not necessarily a bad thing; it simply depends on who is doing the changing, how and what is their motive for wanting to change it.