A couple of weeks ago, I had the chance to sit down with a few fabulous ladies who work in international development, to ask them about their experiences as feminists within their sector, and also their opinions on the role of feminism within global development.
The recording of the discussion we had aired last night on Berlin Community Radio (with a short introduction from Kate and I, and some gorgeous tunes from Naomi Wachira), and you can listen to the show below. I also wanted to quickly highlight here a few key points that stood out for me throughout the discussion.
Generally, we agreed upon the need to make thinking about ‘gender inequality’ a key component of not just positions or projects with “Gender” or “Women’s Empowerment” in the title, but of all projects and programmes in international development. However, it became clear that just thinking about these issues clearly isn’t enough to make transformative change actually happen; the examples that Crystal gave towards about halfway through the discussion of how projects aimed at providing sanitary products to girls had failed terribly, are a good example of why.
I thought the example Maliha mentioned at the beginning of global development practitioners giving the excuse of wanting to “respect” local context as a reason not to address gender imbalances, extremely pertinent. I’ve been (and still am, in many ways) an active advocate of respecting local contexts and cultures - but obviously, there need to be exceptions. The example that came to my mind while listening back was of projects that address Female Genital Mutilation, even when it has formed part of local traditions for a long time; clearly, here, the fact that it is ‘tradition’ should not discourage anyone from working to end it.
I also hadn’t thought so clearly about the ultimate goal of global development; it’s easy to think of it as ‘ending poverty’ or an equally vague statement, but the aim of making activities on the international development agenda become national priorities, or simply regular activities, is much clearer.
It’s also easy to forget, sometimes, that the change we’re all working for is naturally happening slowly. Among those changes will hopefully be the people working in the sector, as well as the impact of development in poor countries
Concretely: I’ve commented before on the prevalence of middle-aged white men within the international development sector (for example, at the Open Development Camp which I attended last week, the first 5 speakers on the Friday were all white men, from rich countries) and it frustrates me greatly. Admittedly, lots have spent a lot of time living in poor countries, or working in certain areas, but the fact remains that their perspective on the world, especially if their cultural roots lie solely in rich countries, is a universe away from the people they are trying to help. I wonder how things will look in the future, when hopefully leadership positions among major INGOs and NGOs will change to more accurately reflect the people they are working with.
And within all this social good that we’re trying to achieve in the world, the fact remains that microaggressions of discrimination are rife within the international development sector itself; another thing that, I imagine, white men working in the sector will be largely unaware of. It really is all too easy to use a critical lens on people affected by a project we’re working on, and fail entirely to turn the same critical eye upon ourselves; I know I’m guilty of this in some cases, and need to improve.
All in all, my biggest takeaway from our discussion was that for us, the main priority of development when conducted through a feminist lens would be focusing on girls’ education; not just providing schools, but actually the quality of education, and making sure they can attend without any external pressures stopping them. It was a fascinating discussion, and I’m keen to follow up and keep reading and learning about the topic!
Big thanks so much to the special guests for taking their time to discuss the topic: it was much appreciated!
AdaCamp: spending time with women in open source and technology
I've just spent the weekend at AdaCamp, a two day event aimed at increasing women's participation in open technology and culture. It was great, and gave me lots to think about, some of which I've tried to outline here.
The weekend started with a pretty hefty 'housekeeping' session, ie. things to do, and things to avoid, during the camp. This section was more comprehensive than other events I'd been to, and this was, in essence, because inclusivity was a founding cornerstone of the event. I really appreciated and admired, for example, the organisers of the event not just saying the usual - "if you have any problems come to us" - but further than that, giving us an email address that would bypass them and go straight to their bosses, in case participants were having any problems with the organisers themselves, or felt uncomfortable discussing things with them. I couldn't help but imagine how many awful situations at conferences would have been made much easier if people had had that option: if it's the organiser of the event being abusive or creepy, it's very hard to know where to go for help, without a provision such as the one provided here.
There were suggested things we could write on our name badges- for example, your preferred gender pronouns, and this made me realise how welcome provisions like that must be for the trans- community. Similarly, the clear labelling of a gender neutral bathroom facility. There was a designated 'quiet area', and there was a clear and well-publicised (in print, sent via email, and presented at the introduction session) code of conduct.
Even so, though, I noticed throughout the weekend how hard it is to precisely abide by certain aspects of the Code of Conduct - specifically, in terms of the language that we use. I also noticed (not for the first time) how incredibly important the words we use are to how we make others feel, and how we display and share our values. I'm totally guilty of not always being mindful of this myself, but I'm trying to get better at it. Whether it's describing something as "girly", or hyperbolically saying that something "made me want to jump off a bridge", it's effectively doing the exact opposite of what we were there for - being inclusive, promoting a fair and equal society, and most of all, getting rid of patriarchal values.
It was fascinating to be able to meet so many women from so many different areas of 'open'; despite our many differences, it was reassuring to know that we all shared some key feminist values. I'll admit though that I was expecting there to be a more geographically diverse set of participants - the very, very large majority came from Europe, quite a few from the US, and very few from Latin America, Africa and Asia - but of course, travel is expensive, and unfortunately visas are hard.
There were some sessions that really opened my eyes to another area of this 'open' bubble- for example, talking about women in open source. Most of the women there were coders, who had contributed to open source code projects; and despite my having read accounts of abuse and harassment within the open source community fairly regularly before, the severity of the situations they face, really hit home for me during this session. It's so, so different being able to see and hear those women talk in person about their experiences; it's even sadder that these experiences were by no means rare, and the stories were full of vicious, petty, actions and people. I can't quite get my head round the fact as I've understood it: that the choice for a woman who wants to contribute to an open source code project is, effectively, 'contribute and likely face harassment', or 'don't contribute and stay quiet'. It's a terrible understatement, but that is not a humane choice to be faced with.
I feel like lots of the sessions acted as a necessary, and much-needed space for women to tell their stories, to vent, and most of all, to get angry. So often, the things we see and face happen in situations where it's hard to show your emotions outwardly (because you'll be told to 'calm down', or that it's "not that big a deal", or that "he didn't mean it", or where colleagues or those around you will judge you for being "overly emotional", or "unprofessional"... etc etc) - so we bottle them up, and only share them when put in a space that is explicitly marked as safe to do so. Doing so isn't healthy, and, I'd suggest, it's also not that helpful for those around you.
There were some recurring themes throughout the camp too: that we are worried about our online, and offline, privacy and security. That the way that our professional lives are structured doesn't leave us with much reassurance: for example, the fact that changing the technology used within an organisation often needs to come from a high level position - so suggestions from lower down the ranks are rarely taken on board, even when they bring advantages like more secure privacy, or cheaper, open source systems. That, all too often, deciding to work in an organisation or or for a cause that we believe in means that we have to compromise on some really basic things, like workers rights and steady employment rights. That men need to stand up and stop ignoring abuse and harassment that they see, in order for there to be a real change of culture. That we need to respect that there are different understandings of 'feminism' and hugely different experiences within that.
There were some unanswered questions that came up multiple times, too: how to call out abuse, without getting burned yourself? It should by no means by the responsibility of the victim to do so, but is there a way of structuring it in a way that means that the perpetrator can't then turn it on its head to cry 'defamation', or use it against you? Does the fact that we use technology make us stronger, or weaker? And in offline situations, how do we identify fellow feminists, or allies? (My half-serious suggestion of walking around conferences waving a flag that says "I think women are people too" was met only with laughter...)
In many of the cases above, there was one really key strategy that kept coming to my mind: the value of mentorship. It was through a friend and mentor that I even heard about the existence of 'imposter syndrome', and I felt so much better about it when she told me that she (yes, she, experienced, intelligent, wonderful woman!) suffered from it too. Offering your time to others - not even necessarily explicitly as "mentorship time", but simply making yourself available if anyone needs it - is, for me, one of the most valuable things we can all offer (and I've resolved to do it more explicitly, and more often, myself).
There were very few set sessions before the camp started itself, because it was structured as an 'unconference', but one of these was on Imposter Syndrome; a topic that I think affects us all, in some way. I was expecting something a little different from this session - rather than talking through feelings and behaviour related to imposter syndrome, I would have found some concrete strategies and suggestions to cope with it, particularly useful.
I was also very conscious, during that specific session, of the cultural differences in the room; I'm British, and, going by the stereotypes, we basically always say everything is fine. Especially around strangers. I was in a group with German women, who (again, I'm stereotyping) would very rarely express deep and intimate feelings with complete strangers. However, throughout the group exercise, I could hear groups of primarily North American women carrying out the exercises without any hesitation - this made me wonder about the value of adjusting exercises to fit the cultural boundaries of the participants a little more. (AdaCamp originated in the United States, which, I would suggest, is something is fairly clear from the structure and content of the event.) - that said, I realise that this is incredibly difficult.
All in all, as you might be able to tell, from the long blog post - I learned a lot. I met a lot of really, really cool women. I came across some great resources, and ideas I hadn't thought of before, and it gave me a lot to think about.
On booksprints, responsible data in development, and diversity
Last week, I took part in a 'booksprint', which involved bringing together a group of people from different disciplines, to collaboratively write a book from start to finish in just three days.
It was my second booksprint - the first being this, "How to Read and Understand an Oil Contract", which I coordinated logistics for, and participated in as target reader - but my first as a fully-fledged writer. It was a brilliant experience, for a number of reasons - some obvious, some less so.
Firstly: I had the chance to sit down with an incredible group of people, and not just interact with them in passing as one does at a conference, or listen to them speaking, but really intensively work with them. It's a fairly intense environment, as decisions have to be made in the group, everyone takes part, and obviously, there are (if the participants are chosen correctly!) a range of different experiences and opinions within the group. It was pretty impressive how quickly we went from the formalities of having just met, to working together as if we'd done it for years, complete with light-hearted teasing and joking around.
Having the opportunity to really dedicate time to thinking about responsible data in development, which is a topic that I've been reading and thinking about for a while now, was also really valuable. We were taken to a small farmhouse somewhere outside of Amsterdam, with only sheep and fields for company: this meant that we were almost forced to be super focused on the topic in hand. Additionally, the presence of a facilitator, and the fact that we had been asked to dedicate three full days to this, meant that we couldn't be distracted by emails, or outside world pressures. It was pretty exhausting, but also very productive, to have this time carved out especially.
Hearing from people who had very different experiences to me on this topic was also very interesting: for example, people who had worked in international development for a long time, or those who were coming from the perspective of focusing primarily on digital security. I hope that this range of perspectives brought a richness to the book that would not have otherwise come across! It also, naturally, led to different aspects being prioritised within the book itself.
It was fascinating to be involved in the booksprint process, too, which for me was heavily shaped by the facilitator, Barbara. The best way I can think of to describe the role of a booksprint facilitator is to compare it to that of a puppetmaster. She pulls the strings, and moves us around - but, interesingly, in such a way that we barely even noticed. Of course, there were some obvious actions that she did, like asking us to meet at a certain time. But more nuanced was the organising of certain people to work together, or specific groups to work on specific topics, or people to take on certain roles, the role of reassurance, bringing the group together to make decisions in a timely way, and keeping the group dynamic healthy and productive.
In broad ways, the broad qualities demanded of a booksprint facilitator are very similar to those needed by a good event, unconference or conference-facilitator - just, a bit more specific and tailored to the fact that at the end of the appointed time, the very concrete output of an actual book is required.
Lastly - but for me, most importantly, was the diversity of the group in hand. I can't emphasise enough how important this was to me, and how much of a difference it made; admittedly, none of which I would have guessed beforehand. Let me explain: it was the first workshop/event that I've attended in Europe, where white men were in the minority, and women of colour were (almost!) in the majority.
This fact might not mean very much to you if you generally find yourslef in the majority (or, if you've never even thought about that, because you take it so completely for granted) - but for me, it changed everything. The saddest part of being in a minority, sometimes, is realising that even your expectation of being included, or that you'll 100% understand everything mentioned, or feel 100% relevant to the conversations held, has somehow been lost among the way. And the best way to realise that this has happened (at least for me!) is to spend some time in an environment where the jokes are about things that only people with your cultural or social background would understand.
For example: references to life in a South Asian immigrant family. References to being a (female) immigrant in an English-speaking country. Stories of South Asian culture, or cultures where big, chaotic families are the norm, or where expectations of girls and boys and women and men are very, very different.
All of those things happen to me so rarely - I can probably count the number of people with whom I feel like that on one hand - that it was totally wild for me to have that intensely for so many days. As usual, the discussions we had were focused around the perspectives of the majority of the group - but unusually here, that experience was women, not white men. All too often within international development, we hear and see men from rich countries talking about the poor, about poverty, about their experiences in impoverished countries... and, frankly, it's really not that useful.
In terms of the book itself, it's clear that because of that rich diversity of authors, and the collaborative method in which we wrote the book, we tackled the issues in hand in a different way to the way in which, say, a group of middle aged white men would have done. Even better was the fact that the organisers hadn't set out to make this the case - but rather, it simply happened when they were thinking of people who would be appropriate to attend the sprint.
Comments and criticisms on the book are really welcomed - you can download it here, http://tiny.cc/rddevbook - and the engine room are currently thinking about the best way to put it online in a way that will encourage feedback. Any suggestions, drop them a line!
I woke up this morning to see this post by Jillian York, “Courage – it's not just for white men”. Suffice to say, I wholeheartedly agree with it, especially the idea of remixing that wholly reductive image released by Pirate Parties International.
As Jillian mentions, there are a whole host of women and people of colour that didn't appear on the remixed version she produced; so, here's another, with the people who came to mind for me.
Clockwise from top left: Bassel Khartabil), Salwa Bughaighis, who was assassinated just a couple of months ago- (this blog post written by her nieces is a good place to start learning about her), Rigoberta Menchú, Maryam al-Khawaja, Adilur Rahman Khan, Sanaa Seif (news here and here), Khadija Ismayilova, Yoani Sanchez.
I wonder though, how many people could come up with a list of 9 brave women, or people of colour, just like that? A couple of years ago, I probably wouldn't have been able to.
Recently though, I've been trying to be a lot more aware of the voices I'm listening to, whether that be through books I'm reading (hence my only reading books by women this year) – people I'm following on Twitter (trying to follow people who are in areas of the world I know little about, or those with different social situations to me) – or the media I consume (trying to find media sources from inside the country I'm reading about, rather than sticking to international sources.)
As mentioned in Jillian's post, the problem is self-perpetuating, and, I would suggest, all too easy to ignore, until it comes to the issue of having to find, for example, a “diverse” conference line up. In these cases, the excuse of “but I didn't know anyone else” comes up far too often; of course you didn't, because you stuck to the mainstream and made no effort to find voices who are marginalised and ignored by this system. It's no surprise.
Becoming aware of who you're listening to and where your information comes from is the first step; once you start looking, it's really not so hard to find people with different world views out there to listen to and learn from.
Are there other people who come to mind for you, who should be on one of these? With apologies to my graphic designer friends, I did this version using Preview on Mac, as follows:
find an image of someone
select a square section of it
copy and paste into the original ( I would recommend using this high res original, not my one!
The most time consuming aspect for me was finding public domain images - I wanted to include Meriem Ibrahim, for example, but couldn't find an image of her.
The road to hell is paved with brightly coloured bubble maps
Across the global development sector, the idea of opening up data and becoming more transparent is taking hold. One might even say that it has become reasonably well established; almost every week, new data portals commissioned by global development organisations are appearing.
Undoubtedly, this move towards transparency and open data is, in theory, a positive development. Responsibly sharing data on global development projects is potentially, a crucial step towards more effective international development projects, both in terms of more efficient development programming on the side of the practitioner, and in terms of increasing accountability for citizens affected by projects.
So surely the flourishing online data portals are a good thing?
Not entirely. While the intentions are undoubtedly good, the results are often much less so.
Take, for example, the new mapping portal from the African Development Bank, Map Africa. To accompany the launch, they produced an explanatory video. Their intentions for MapAfrica are thus made clear, with taglines such as:
If a picture is worth 1000 words... then visualising data helps us better understand.
MapAfrica is interactive: it connects people.
It makes our information available to everyone.
And shows how we are improving Africans' lives.
It empowers citizens to build better lives, and demand accountability.
Now, let's look at the platform.
A map of the world, with a lot of coloured dots in African countries. What do the dots mean? Clicking on one brings up a pop up that looks something like this.
We're starting the wrong way round on this analysis: but why would that information be useful? The 'total funding' figure given doesn't make clear to which organisation the funding is going, so there's no chance of tracking the financial flow. The 'Project Page' link is empty (and I've yet to find a single one), so there's no further information given on the project. There's no contact details given, nor the name of the partner organisation, so if a user wanted to ask a question or report a problem with the project, finding out who to contact - and thus 'demanding accountability' would be difficult, if not impossible.
My question, then: how exactly is this contributing to any of the goals stated above?
I'd suggest that perhaps they're not; at least, not as well as they could be. What it is doing, is making the AfDB's intentions at being a transparent organisation visible. It provides them with something to point at when asked about their transparency and open data policies, and it provides them with their own, easily identifiable and unique portal.
But these are the wrong targets to aim for. Putting data online should be about far more than simply lip service to transparency, and instead focus on how to best make the data useful, and accessible, to the desired target audience.
Tools developers within the global development sector could learn a lot from the civic software movement; many of the guidelines in CivicPatterns are very relevant here, especially those in the Delivery and Engagement sections. For example - build it they won't come, or do your homework - I wonder how often those who are tasked with building a new data portal actually take the time to see what is already out there, and learn from their work. (Incidentally - this is one issue that the Tools section of the Open Development Toolkit site that I work on is trying to address, by bringing them together in one place)
Of course, learning from each other and building upon each others work would be a lot easier were the code for these portals made open source. Currently, very few development data portals actually are - DFID's DevTracker for one, and Development Initiatives' d-portal for another. Public money should be spent towards creating a public infrastructure, not to create proprietary bits of software that can't be reused, aren't maintained, and go quickly out of date.
Again, we could learn a lot from other related movements here - the Poplus project's efforts at building independent pieces of software that can be used and remixed, for example.
Basic software development guidelines aren't being followed: how many tools developers would be able to easily identify their target audience? And let's be clear here: "the public" is not a target audience. Let's be honest, too - the chances of the average citizen in a heavily aid-recipient country ever coming across a development data portal are very low. The potential audience waiting to be tapped here is elsewhere; civil society organisations and journalists with an interest in financial spending in low-income countries, for example. Topic-specific researchers looking into how different initiatives are supported in certain countries. Fellow global development practitioners, looking to join forces. Even citizens of rich countries, wanting to know where their tax money is being spent.
Where is the research on what kinds of information potential target audiences are wanting to find out? Personally, I've yet to see any. Some user testing happens after the development of a new portal - but by then, it's usually too late to change very much. Even earlier than this should come the first consideration: is a data portal what is needed here? Nathaniel Heller of Global Integrity makes some great points here on the topic of building toolboxes - many of which would be relevant considerations for building individual tools, too.
I've singled out MapAfrica here because I came across it for the first time recently, but it is by no means the worst example of resources used under the well-meaning aim of making development data "accessible" with not so useful results. We're at a point now where we need to start being more nuanced about how, and why, this data is going online, who it is for, and whether the tools we are building are in fact meeting their needs.
A couple of weeks ago, one of my best friends handed in her PhD, in geology, and the TLD .rocks went on sale. Clearly this was a sign, so I bought her what has to be the best domain for a geologist named Sorcha to own: http://sorcha.rocks.
I built her a little present on the site, too – a memory game, with photos she took during the PhD, and the place names, meaning that she's basically the only one who will recognise the pictures and be able to do it really from memory. Once the game has been completed successfully, a 'to do list' appears at the bottom of the page, so it's hidden to most viewers.
In the background, data based on the rocks she studied that I found online (carbonatites, in case you're curious) is mapped out, using TileMill; taking a screenshot of the map was a much easier way of getting it on the site, than putting it up as an interactive map (maybe next time!)
Making the site
First, I set up Github pages to get the page up, at http://zararah.github.io/sorcha.rocks. Then, I searched for a Memory Game plugin to fork on Github – it turns out there are lots! I had it under good authority that it would be best to use a Javascript based plugin, so I selected Javascript under the Languages on the left sidebar, and filtered the options.
Then, I sorted by 'Most stars' to see which ones were popular, and had a look through the top options that came up. One tip that I learned here – if a website isn't given to find a demonstration online, try http://username.github.io/repo-name to find it.
For example, with this memory game from Bradly Green, there isn't a website given. It's online at https://bradlygreen.github.io/Memory-Game/ though – and though it looks pretty nice, I was unconvinced by the lack of documentation and the very short ReadMe.
In the end, I went with the 'Quizy Memory Game'; you can see what it looks like online here. I also appreciate greatly the 'Properties' section outlined here, making it a lot easier to customise than some of the others listed there. (thanks, frenski!)
The site also has comprehensive installation instructions – great for a newbie like me! Adding the images and titles was fairly straightforward, just replacing what was already there (flags and country names) to the index.html of the site.
I created a custom CSS file to define my own styles – ie. Things like changing the font and adding the background image. All of the images (the top image, and the cards) live in the img folder.
To make things come up only when the game was successfully completed, I used
<divstyle="display:none"id="gamewin">
and
$('#gamewin').show();
(both of these with help!)
When I was happy with how the site looked, I followed these instructions to get http://sorcha.rocks to point to http://zararah.github.io/sorcha.rocks. And, ta-da! The nerdiest present I've ever made, but I like it.
Weddings without the gender bias; very much possible, and wonderful!
Yesterday, I went to a fantastic wedding. It was truly wonderful for a number of personal reasons, given that it was my brother's wedding (!) – but it was also, for me, a great example of how an old-fashioned institution like marriage can be brought into the 21st century, and celebrated without gender-bias.
There are lots of aspects of more traditional weddings within which feminism dies a little death; the very old-style vows whereupon a woman vows to “love, cherish and obey” her new husband, leaving the man to simply love and cherish her, for one. The idea that a woman is “given away” by her father, for another.
But this wedding was different, which, I suspect, made a lot of us very happy. A few weeks ago I read this great piece by Laura Bates on how to have a feminist wedding, and although I've no idea whether yesterday's bride and groom had read it too, there were a number of common ideas.
There were no vows to obey anyone; instead, the two of them read out customised vows. The celebrant, (the person who lead the ceremony) was the bride's godmother, which leant a lovely personal touch to the event. There was no church aisle for her to walk down, but instead the ceremony was held at a stone circle on the top of a hill with a truly gorgeous view over the Somerset countryside, through which the bride walked together with Lisa, who has been an enormous influence in her life. Incidentally, they arrived in a 4x4, while we guests had a beautifully picturesque ride up the hill while sitting on bales of hay on a trailer attached to a tractor. So much for the stereotype of the delicate and fragile bride!
In keeping with the theme, the readings were (hopefully!) slightly unusual – first, a section from the Epic of Gilgamesh (Column III) by Harrie's brother, Jack, and then I read a poem by a feminist author I admire hugely, Maya Angelou – Touched by an Angel.
There was no bouquet-throwing, which Laura Bates aptly describes with
“Come on, girls, scrabble desperately for this fateful bundle of foliage because it's the only chance you have to influence the future of your own relationship. Followed by pitying nudges for the bloke whose partner catches the flowers, as he's clearly now irrevocably caught in the harpy's iron grasp.”
… enough said.
There was a lovely and hilarious speech from the mother of the bride, as well as the two best men; and I think the biggest and best nod to gender equality in the wedding, was within my brother's speech. Traditionally, the groom's speech often starts with “On behalf of my wife and I, we'd like to thank you all...” – this one, however, came first with a disclaimer, that his new wife had taken the active decision not to do a speech herself, and that she had asked him to speak on behalf of the two of them. As he rightly identified, with the number of strong women in the room, any attempts at talking “on behalf of” his lovely new wife without prior consent would not have been taken kindly!
And finally, of course – the names. Harrie has decided to keep her own name for now, and this article sums up pretty aptly how I feel about women changing their name – ie. that there's a lot in a name, and changing that name is definitely not something that should be taken for granted simply because a woman is getting married. That said, I have many strong feminist friends who have, upon reflection, decided to take their husband's name; it has been their own, individual decisions to do so, and definitely not because of traditional societal pressure, though.
Next week, we're having a Bangladeshi-style wedding reception for the two of them. I wonder how possible it will be to maintain an equal and non-gender biased celebration within the framework of Bangladeshi traditions and customs; we'll try our best!
On Monday, I co-presented a short show on Berlin Community Radio, with my friend Kate McCurdy, on a topic that has been fascinating us for a little while now – feminist science fiction. We looked at a few key pieces of science fiction from as far back as 1905, with a short reading from Sultana's Dream, another reading of Ursula K. LeGuin's The Left Hand of Darkness (one of our favourite pieces!), and talked briefly about Afrofuturism, too. We were joined by April who provided us with some awesome spacey tunes.
We did a fair bit of research for the show, which I've arranged below into an article, with links to works we mentioned– we said much of what is written below in the radio show though, which you can listen to online here. Suggestions for future radio show segments are welcome, as are recommendations of other feminist science fiction books to read!
Text below co-written with Kate- I would recommend either listening to the show, or reading the post below, to get your fill of feminist science fiction!
*****
Science fiction as a genre allows us to imagine and present new ways of thinking about how society is organised; this, within a feminist lens, can be particularly powerful. Contrary to how scifi might be perceived, it's not often used as a technique to imagine what the future will actually be like, but rather, as Ursula K. LeGuin says – “science fiction is not prescriptive, it's descriptive.” It's much more of a commentary on how our current society works – putting characters on another world, or within another era, helps the reader to take a much more critical look at how things actually work.
Feminist science fiction, a sub-genre of science fiction, largely tends to deal with women's roles in society, examining how gender is constructed, whether that be through the creation of a utopia where the problems caused by gender imbalances and inequalities don't exist, or through a dystopia where inequalities are emphasised, or have led to terrible consequences. As the feminist critic Marleen S. Barr writes, “feminist science fiction is key for unlocking the patriarchy's often hidden agendas.”
Feminist science fiction has a rich history – early feminist science fiction works somewhat echoed what's known as 'first wave feminism', which dealt with asserting basic legal and political rights for women, addressing sexism and gender equality in areas like voting and property rights. One way in which this struggle can be seen within science fiction was the portrayal of single-sex worlds, seeking to explore the question - what happens when men are just taken out of the picture entirely?
Incredibly, one of the earliest known feminist science fiction utopias was created by a woman in what is now modern day Bangladesh, in 1905, in a short story called Sultana's Dream. Given my family ties, I was especially happy to discover this! The author, Rokheya Shekhawat Hossein, was a Muslim feminist, whose impact on women's empowerment can still be seen across the subcontinent today. She led an unusual, and fascinating life; she set up the first school in Bengal for Muslim women, and founded the Muslim Women's Society, both of which are still going strong today. The school she founded provided the first opportunity for women (probably of my grandmother's generation) to become literate.
She wrote Sultana's Dream when she was still young; I find this, along with other facts of the environment, truly incredible; she was writing under British colonial rule, growing up in a fairly strict Muslim society, and over 100 years ago. The story, written in the first person, tells of how Sultana comes to visit a place called Ladyland, where gender roles are swapped; men stay in indoors in purdah, and women are in charge of running the country. She is shown round Ladyland by a woman called Sister Sara, who is utterly scathing about the abilities and skills of men, discussing openly the quicker mental abilities of women in Ladyland, and the uselessness of men there.
The criticism of traditional gender roles within the story couldn't be stronger; in Ladyland, women manage to do the same amount of work in 2 hours as men would take during the whole day, as men used to spend more time “talking about their work” than actually doing it; the women manage to convince the men to be shut up within the houses through quicker mental abilities rather than force; the women use their technological and scientific inventions (previously deemed as “sentimental” by the men) to win a war with a neighbouring land, and then rule peacefully upon the land. The forward thinking and sharp criticism within the short story truly astonishes me, and I would thoroughly recommend reading the story if you have a spare 5 minutes or so.
Second wave feminism expanded the debate to question the role of women in public and private arenas, and began to question the social construction of the very idea of femininity. Similar themes can be seen through science fiction which reconceptualises gender in more fluid ways, creating androgynous worlds, or populations who can have multiple genders.
The most striking (and, probably well-known) example of a book which explores these themes is Ursula K. LeGuin's The Left Hand of Darkness, in which an alien visitor comes to the planet Gethen, tasked with providing a report on how the society works to his home planet. Gethenians are like humans in most respects, but they are fully androgynous and sexually ambiguous, meaning that any one individual can take on any gender and its associated roles. Once a month, Gethenians “enter kemmer” – meaning, they begin to become sexually active, and seek out a partner. Once they have found their partner in kemmer, each of them takes on either the male or female role, but neither has a predisposition to either, and being “in kemmer” lasts for two to five days, after which both return to being androgynous, if conception has not taken place.
This means a few major things about the way their society is organised: firstly, that the physical roles assigned to men and women are split evenly across society, as anyone can become pregnant, and people can both bear children themselves, while being the father of others.
Burden and privilege are shared out pretty equally; everybody has the same risk to run or choice to make. Therefore nobody here is quite so free as a free male anywhere else.
The lack of assigned gender roles means that nobody is considered to be weaker or stronger – and in fact, the alien visitor to the planet struggles throughout the book with how to approach and deal with people without being able to assign to them a gender and associated assumptions of social behaviour. He realises that, from his planet (as on ours!):
Our entire pattern of socio-sexual interaction is nonexistent here. They cannot play the game. They do not see one another as men or women. This is almost impossible for our imagination to accept. What is the first question we ask about a newborn baby
My co-presenter on the radio show, Kate, discovered here a link between this (supposedly fictional) theme, and reality, through feminist biologist Anne Fausto-Sterling’s research on intersexuality. She notes that an estimated 17 of every 1000 live births show evidence of characteristics from both sexes, ranging from chromosomes to hormones to genital appearance and function. There are historical accounts of intersexuals with mixed genitalia; much as the Gethenians in LeGuin’s story, these intersexuals could - and did - spend their life happily engaging in what we would call “heterosexual” intercourse with both men and women. Since the mid-twentieth century, individuals born with ambiguous genitalia have generally undergone surgery as newborns, so that physicians could reassure parents (who are often not fully informed of this process) that they had given birth to a “normal” little boy or girl.
In her book Sexing the Body, Fausto-Sterling describes sexuality as existing not on a linear spectrum from male to female, but an orthogonal spectrum on which masculinity and femininity vary separately - an organism can become biologically more masculine and simultaneously more feminine, or less of both, over the developmental cycle. We can see a hint of the androgyny identified by LeGuin in Fausto-Sterling’s revised conclusion to her 1993 essay, ‘The Five Sexes: Why Male and Female are not enough’:
Sometimes people suggest to me, with not a little horror, that I am arguing for a pastel world in which androgyny reigns and men and women are boringly the same. In my vision, however, strong colors coexist with pastels. There are and will continue to be highly masculine people out there; it's just that some of them are women. And some of the most feminine people I know happen to be men.
The idea of the crossover between the supposedly fantastical world of science fiction and reality is one that is explored more explicitly within another genre we chose to talk about briefly – Afrofuturism.
The term 'afrofuturism' was coined by Mark Dery, in an essay he wrote in 1994 called Black to the Future. A poignant quote from this: “African Americans are, in a very real sense, the descendents of alien abductees.”
There's multiple ways of deconstructing this – the way in which scientific and technological experimentation has taken place in the past, using people of colour as the 'test subjects' – for example Henrietta Lacks' cells being used without her consent in the 1950s up until today – or, quite simply, that during the slave era, black people were actually considered to be of another species, and this was used as justification for the horrors that were imposed upon them. Perhaps the word 'alien' wasn't used; but the trope of 'otherness' that was imposed leads quite naturally to the genre of science fiction, where otherness can be explored and re-imagined.
While Afrofuturism is not explicitly or necessarily related to feminist writings, it's hard for me not to relate the two very strongly; as Ytasha Womack explains in her book, Afrofuturism: The World of Black in Sci Fi and Fantasy Culture,
Afrofuturism is a free space for women, a door ajar, arms wide open, a literal and figurative space for black women to be themselves. They can dig behind the societal reminders of blackness and womanhood to express a deeper identity and then use this discovery to define blackness, womanhood, or any other identifier in whatever form their imagination allows.
Womack goes on to talk about numerous women Afrofuturists who have had huge influences on popular culture – not just within writing, but with music (such as Grace Jones, Janelle Monae) – within art, like – even technology, such as Dr. Jarita Holbrook, who has “dedicated her life to uncovering the history of African stargazing.” There's a fascinating discussion within Womack's book of how Africa's scientific and technological legacy has been largely overlooked, for example the continent's longstanding understanding of astronomy. Again – the links between science fiction, science and reality, are blurred here.
Probably the best known Afrofuturist writer is Octavia Butler, who was writing long before the 'Afrofuturist' label was coined, and who has inspired many other writers. In her book Kindred, which combines a critical discussion of the slave trade together with time travel, she takes an African American woman living in the 1970s back to a slave plantation, where all of her understandings of society are turned utterly upside down. She travels back in time with her husband, a white American man, which highlights starkly the difference in their assigned roles in society, and brings the main character to have to adapt to a society that is a world away (almost literally) from her own. The inevitable links between race and gender are explored in many of Butler's books, and especially the slave trade.
More recent Afrofuturist written works include Nnedi Okorafor's Who Fears Death, an unflinchingly powerful story of a black woman who discovers supernatural powers which can, if used correctly, end the genocide of her people. Okorafor mixes topics that aren't commonly seen together; shaminism and juju, female genital mutilation, space and time travel, within the book, to create something that doesn't quite fit within the 'strict' genre of science fiction, but lies somewhere between magical realism, fantasy, scifi and the supernatural.
...and there ends our pretty basic introduction to feminist science fiction. There are lots of sub-genres that we didn't mention, and other related genres to science fiction that we didn't get a chance to cover. Recommendations of books to read are always welcome, let us know!
The cultural wonders of immigration: 3 generations, 3 mother tongues, and a lot of cultural differences
[Image credit: an amazing visualisation on migration flows, on http://global-migration.info]
In a couple of weeks, my brother is getting married. This is a hugely exciting event in my family, and family members are coming from all around the world to attend the wedding(s) – they're having the actual wedding in Devon, and then a 'reception' up where my parents live, in Manchester.
Party details aside, I don't think I'll have ever seen so many of my family members gathering in one place before; though we still have lots of family in Bangladesh, we've all travelled a lot. It's made me think a lot about the various cultures that are encompassed within our extended family – within just a couple of generations, we've put roots down all across the world, and that has brought with it some interesting changes in cultural values among us.
My parents came over from Bangladesh to the UK when they were in the early 20s, and they've now lived longer in the UK than they ever were in Bangladesh. Yet despite their British passports, they still refer to themselves as Bangladeshi, mostly. They've retained much of their Bangla culture, but with a heavily British twist, and I consider myself incredibly lucky to have experienced the mixture – they were pretty liberal with me, and I grew up not noticing too much of a difference between myself, and my friends with British parents.
Of course, there were some differences; we ate Bangladeshi cuisine at home, my mum would wear beautiful saris to go to parties, I received presents not only on Christmas, but on both Eids as well, there was never any alcohol in the house, for example. But, there were never any restrictions on, for example, what I wore, or who I made friends with, spending time with my friends, where I travelled to alone, or being able to choose when and what I studied or now work in. I've discovered that only now am I realising the benefits of that bicultural upbringing – whether that's because I'm getting older, or because I'm now living in Germany, I don't know.
But here in Germany, when people ask me where I'm from, I say, “the UK”. I grew up there, I lived my whole life there until I was 19; my values are rooted in British values, my close friends from my childhood are British, my cultural references are based upon British TV and pop culture, and my education was through a British lens. The differences in my upbringing to that of my friends seems somewhat minor in comparison to the strength of those things, but still, as I've written about many times before, here in Germany I'm referred to often by my Bangladeshi heritage, and treated somewhat differently as a result.
Conversely, when I go to Dhaka, I'm often referred to as “the English cousin”. Likewise with cousins, whose parents (of my parents generation) moved abroad as adults – I have cousins who I consider to be from Australia, from Canada, from the US, from Italy. And in fact, I'd estimate that all of us have closer ties to those countries than to the one that connects us all.
One aspect of this country- and culture-swapping is the language changes; my first language is very strongly English, which is my parents' second language. But my niece and nephew's first language is French; a language that my parents don't even speak, and their second language (though, very close to their first in terms of learning) – is English. Within the three generations, we have three different mother tongues.
While it has some very minor issues in terms of communication, the cultural differences this brings are greater; I'm a huge advocate of cultures and languages being very closely intertwined (perhaps because of the various mixes within my family!), and I'm noticing these differences more and more when we spend time together.
Within the extended family too, these differences in upbringing and in countries mean that we all subscribe to slightly varying cultural values. I know that within any family, the generational differences will lead to cultural differences too, but I'd hazard a guess that having both a generational gap as well as a cultural one brings up perhaps more pronounced differences.
Of course, this is sometimes difficult to reconcile – but more importantly, isn't this kind of wonderful? It's taken just 40 years for my family to go from (as far as I know) unilaterally Bangladeshi, speaking Bengali, and living in Bangladesh, to this variety of cultures, languages and countries. We've changed so much from our shared ancestors in Bangladesh, and yet we've retained enough of our shared heritage to still have those close family connections.
And, somewhat obviously, we've been able to become this rich mixture through immigration – my parents to Bangladesh, me to Germany, my cousins to the US, my brother to Switzerland, my uncle to Italy, my cousin to Hungary, my auntie to Australia... the list goes on. All too often (sadly, increasingly in the UK) the framing around immigration is so narrow minded and focused on money – how much money immigration costs taxpayers of rich countries, how much money is sent back from immigrants to poorer countries... and we forget the rich, cultural benefits that it brings to individuals and to wider society as a whole.
As a family, we're far more likely to be tolerant of people from other cultures, because we, ourselves, as a family, ARE from other cultures. If there's one thing that the world needs more of, it's tolerance; it seems to me like immigration is a great way to get there.
A few weeks ago, someone asked me at a party, “Where do you come from?” and then second-guessed my answer, asking “No no, I mean where do you come from, originally?” This isn't anything new, sadly, but what happened afterwards surprised me.
Someone I didn't know very well interrupted my interrogator, with
“You know, that question is racist.”
I was speechless. A white German man, who I'd never really spoken to, was saying almost exactly what I was about to say. The conversation continued, with protests from the man asking the questions, and the man who interrupted him explaining clearly and firmly why asking different questions to different people based on their skin colour, as well as not accepting their answer, is racist.
It was wonderful.
Having those conversations, explaining to someone why what they're saying or doing is discriminatory, is incredibly tiring. Sometimes I don't even bother; I just answer the question, then walk away, but I always feel a twinge of almost guilt, knowing that they'll likely just go ahead and continue their behaviour as is.
But then again, it's not my responsibility to explain the world and its migration flows to them... so whose is it? When someone else – and especially, someone who has likely never been asked that question in his entire life in Germany – decided to step in and help explain, it was incredibly welcome and (sadly) a huge surprise.
It's all very well not engaging in discriminatory practices yourself, or having an increased self-awareness of what you and those around you are doing; but going that step further, and actually speaking out, is much more than many people actually bother doing. Naturally, it's part of the privilege bestowed upon sections of society that we/they can actually ignore discrimination to the level of never having to engage with it; that, however, is not making it go away for the rest of society.
Perhaps there's the worry of 'mansplaining' or speaking over others, but (and obviously, I can only speak for myself here) – knowing that there are active allies who I can turn to in those cases is really so reassuring. People who would not just stand by me while I get into an argument with someone over what is considered racist or not, but those who would actually join the argument rather than watching from the sidelines.
If you're really, truly, wanting to use your position of privilege, wherever it may lie, then stop being a passive observer of discrimination around you, and actually do something about it. Say something. Explain why. If it's purely a case of ignorance on their part, then it's your responsibility to educate them just as much as it is anyone else's.
PS. There are ways of doing this that are considerate and understanding, but also get the point across – Willow's blog on this topic addresses some of these points really well.
This week, after a couple of months break, I returned to adding things to my project website. I've written before about the things I've learned en route to building that site (the most comprehensive round up being this post, “Newbie hacking coding tips”) but there are a few other things that came to mind during this week's foray.
Namely: what to do when you get stuck, or something doesn't work? I've written before that it's important to try and use your own logic before asking for help, and to try and follow trails as much as you can, but that's still a little vague. So, here's a summary of things I've learned to do when things break, or don't work quite as I expected.
(Disclaimer: to anyone with the slightest bit of experience, this will probably sound terribly obvious – but personally, I appreciate it greatly when solutions are set out in very simple terms. Also, tl;dr, there are some bullet points at the end with my go-to solutions.)
So you've come across an error message in an unexpected place. For me, they often look something like this:
This particular error message is actually pretty helpful: it says what is missing – the tag 'endblock', and it says in which file it is missing (/code/source/source/base/templates/homepage.html in template) as well as the line number (line 66).
Looking at the rest of that file, it's simple to see in what kind of format 'endblock' needs to be written, too, as the others there are written like {% endblock %}. So here, adding {% endblock %} to line 66 solves the problem.
But what if they're more complicated than that?
It's not a great example, but here's the problem that I came across this week. I tried to add a new flatpage to the site using the admin interface, – something that I've done many times – but for some reason, came across this incredibly unhelpful error:
This error message, unlike the one above, didn't give me much to work with. I went back into the admin interface and checked that everything was written correctly – no spaces where they shouldn't be in the URL, for example, but I still got that error.
I tried changing some little things, still in the admin interface, to see if there was anything that unexpectedly was breaking it from the inside: putting no text in the main text box, changing the URL I put in, adding the title/removing the title, removing html from the text box... but nothing.
So I googled, “django flatpages error” to find documentation and, perhaps, some answers. The first result brought me to the official django documentation on the flatpages app, which would have been useful if I had been trying to install it or use it for the first time. But I wasn't; I'd used it a lot before, and never had this problem.
The next place I look is generally Stack Overflow, a forum for people who are experiencing programming problems, and rather wonderful people helping them out. I'm such a fan!
The first answer I came across was this one; the way the problem is described confused me a bit (I've no idea what “Middleware” is) but:
""I try to load any flatpage, I get my custom 404.html error page returned to me"
sounded familiar... so I followed the solutions recommended there:
adding a slash to the end of the page url in admin area – turns out I already had that
turning on "Enable comments" (in the admin interface) for the flatpage in question – didn't make a difference
As none of these had worked, I went on to the next search result, a thread entitled 'django flatpages aren't working'.
Again, there was more about Middleware, and a short solution given:
So perhaps it's something to do with my 'SITE_ID'. I looked in settings.py, and found it was set to:
SITE_ID = 1
But, is this 'correct'? How do I know if 1 is the right number for my SITE_ID? Unfortunately, the other answers all assumed this knowledge, leaving me none the wiser as to whether this was the source of my error, or not.
But then! Another thread, 'Django flatpages Do Not Work' came to my rescue. Along with explaining that SITE_ID might be the issue, some lovely person put in screenshots and an explanation aimed at the newbiest of newbies to this, explaining where to find your SITE_ID (with pictures) as well as that it should match the number given in settings.py.
I love explanations like this, which assume very little prior knowledge; it's so easy to acquire knowledge, then forget entirely the days when you didn't have as a matter of course within your brain. I'm guilty of it too; facing situations like this where I need to be told almost everything from scratch, are a good reminder that I should try to avoid doing it.
But, back to my problem; as it turns out, my SITE_ID was set correctly, after all. (*sigh*)
I tried looking in the terminal, and seeing what was going on behind the scenes by typing
heroku logs
(More information on what that does, here)
Unfortunately, that brought me this:
...and nothing jumped out at me.
I scrolled through a few more problems, unfortunately to no avail. Here, having run out of places to look, I must admit I cheated, and I asked a friend.
And this is why this whole story wasn't a great example to choose, actually: the problem was in the admin interface, after all. At the bottom of the admin page, is this little box:
It turns out that I hadn't actually clicked on the site in the 'select site' box, and that was the root of the problem. Frustrating, especially considering the number of other ways I had attempted to solve the problem myself! A good reminder though, that attention to detail is incredibly important.
It did also bring me realise there are a few process points that I tend to do when faced with an error message:
Repeating what I did to bring about the error message, with little changes, to see if anything solves it where you didn't expect it.
The error message itself: are there any line numbers given, any clues there?
If it's not a generic error message, Googling it in quotation marks, to see if anyone else has been faced with the exact same problem, and seeing how they fixed it.
If there is just a generic error message, searching for the general problem (eg. Can't add django flatpage) being as specific as possible with the framework used, for example.
Checking out StackOverflow, my favourite forum to solve these kinds of things.
Looking behind the scenes, in the terminal via 'heroku logs' and seeing if any particular error message reveals anything (I have to admit, this has rarely happened for me, but more knowledgeable friends have a habit of looking at my 'heroku logs' and understanding what it means... I'm hoping this will come, with time!)
And of course, realising that all of these solutions won't lead anywhere while the answer is staring me in the face from the very beginning...!
If I've missed other go-to places for how to solve errors, let me know!
Three years in Berlin: on moving abroad, the city, and what I've learned
This week is my three year anniversary of moving to Berlin (my three-year-Berliniversary, if you will.) Here are a few things I've learned along the way – about myself, about moving abroad, and about Berlin.
Moving abroad is hard. That romanticised idea of moving to a new country, immediately surrounded by interesting people, with a social calendar brimming with exciting new possibilities, expanding your horizons and learning new things is a world away from the reality. The vulnerability of being completely and utterly alone in a country where you don't speak the language, and have never been before; the unfamiliar idiosyncrasies of a culture you know nothing about; not knowing where to go for even the very basics.
I remember getting to the supermarket when I first got here, and wanting to buy some double cream (I was planning on baking a cake for my new office – a superficial but effective way of getting them to talk to me.) I was faced with a whole array of similar looking substances – Schmand, Sahne, Sahne zum Kochen, Saure Sahne, Schlagsahne... I didn't have a dictionary with me, and ended up purchasing the whole range, to the amusement of the cashier, only to discover that not one of them was actually what I was looking for. Silly, but it was oddly disempowering to realise that I couldn't even go to the supermarket without assistance.
Having to make friends from scratch was also difficult – similar to starting at a new school, only you're the only new one, and there's no teacher to introduce you, or defined space in which you'll meet those people. Instead, the whole city is your school playground, and you have to create your own potential-friend-meeting opportunities, while working, and settling in, and getting used to the new environment. For me, a couple of people played a key role in my settling in – friends who invited me to things, and didn't mind me tagging along, asking silly questions, and generally being my 'go-to' for advice, and weekend activities. I'm certain I wouldn't have stayed in Berlin for as long as I have if it weren't for their kindness.
I'm so glad I learned (and am still learning) German. Yes, it's entirely possible to live in Berlin while knowing only the very basics, there's no denying that – but it makes a world of difference to be able to converse with people and to understand the culture. On a practical level, I found it so embarrassing to be sitting with a group of German people and have to ask them to all speak a foreign language, just for me, while we were sitting in Germany. And, I've found at least, people are much friendlier knowing that you've put effort in to learn the language, even if you (like me) make silly mistakes on a regular basis. There's no better ice-breaker than a ridiculous misuse or misunderstanding of a basic sentence or phrase. As a friend put it – just accept that you're going to get (at least) the grammar wrong, and speak.
I like being put out of my comfort zone. It's true that Germany's not so different to other countries I've lived in – the UK, France, Spain – but it's different enough for me to feel not quite at ease in many situations. I realised last year that this is something that I actually relish; it makes me pay more attention to what's going on and notice things I might otherwise have let slip by me. It's almost like a set of mini challenges that crop up again and again, always slightly different, a little confusing, and satisfying once they're dealt with.
I also notice things here that wouldn't happen in other places. The reverence for people with academic qualifications, the unwillingness to show any sort of national pride except for during international football tournaments, the cliched but accurate directness and consequently thick skin, the relaxed and unhurried attitude towards studying here in Berlin, the idea of renting apartments for years on end rather than buying... it goes on and on, and I find it fascinating.
It's made me notice the opposite, too – things that are very particular to the British. The 'pleases' and 'thank-yous', the long winded way of getting to what you actually want to say, the idea of wearing uniforms in school, the sport netball, the drink Ribena (or any sort of fruit cordial), the strange tradition of Guy Fawkes night, of Pancake Day, accepting other cultures' culinary traditions as our own, of finishing university and settling down and buying a house as if it's all a race... and so on, and so on.
Berlin has so many possibilities, it can be overwhelming. It's cheap, and fun, and you can probably find any meet up, class, or community that you want to. But sometimes, so much choice is almost too much choice – it can be difficult to know where to start, and how to stick to things. In the time I've been here, I've taken a swing dancing course, joined (and left) a folksy band, joined a yoga class, taken a meditation class, started Arabic classes, attended coding workshops, danced in a music video, learned to rollerblade, joined discussion groups, started learning the djembe... and more.
It's a complete luxury problem, but there's so much to find and to do here that actually sticking to something can be harder than it sounds. This somewhat hedonistic attitude can be seen in the way people organise their time, too. Nothing planned too much in advance, leaving flexibility in case something better comes up, with a lack of punctuality I never would've expected in Germany.
Berlin's nowhere near as multicultural as you think, or as (white) people here will describe it. From everyday micro-aggressions to the implicit understanding among many German people that even third generation Turkish immigrants who've grown up their whole lives here shouldn't be able to consider themselves as 'German', as well as the very select groups of immigrants and cultures that Berlin contains – it's not a patch on London's rich cultural setting, and I haven't stopped correcting people lauding 'multi-kulti Berlin' since I arrived.
I don't miss the UK, but I miss the people. There's nothing particularly about the UK that I ever get cravings for, but it's hard sometimes being far away from friends and family. Messaging apps like Whatsapp and Skype make this so, so much easier – I sometimes wonder if I would've stayed as long if it weren't for them. It's also a strange feeling going back to the UK and not understanding jokes, or references to TV programmes I've never seen, and getting a kind of reverse culture shock. The UK and Germany aren't so different, but in some respects my lifestyle here in Berlin is a far cry from that of my friends in London.
Sometimes, not making a decision is the decision in itself. I always imagined there would be a point at which I'd decide to really stay in Berlin, or at which I'd go back to England. I came here originally for 6 weeks, with a suitcase of summer clothes and a house to go back to in London, without any big goodbye to the UK or my friends and family there. A job came up, and I decided to stay for a year, and defer my masters. Then, another year, and I found a nicer apartment to feel more at home. Now, it's three years, and that 'decision point' simply hasn't happened... and somehow, I'm settled and happy and it's hard to think where else I'd be able to have the same quality of life for the same price.
All that said, three years after my non-decision to move here, it's incredibly satisfying to think that I've gotten through the settling-in pains, and made my own way here. Of course, there are cities where it's far more difficult to settle into, and actually I'd say that Berlin is one of the easiest cities to live in that I've visited. To friends who've moved from their homes, to university, to a city with lots of their friends in, I've not stopped recommending that they get out of that comfortable bubble, and experience a new country – if only for a few months, just to expand their horizons, see how they cope with it themselves, and experience something new. I wouldn't take back a second of my time here, despite the ups and downs!
Image credit: Joanna Walsh, who came up with the campaign
It's July already, which means I'm six months through my challenge of a. reading 50 books this year, and b. only reading books by women, as part of the #readwomen2014 campaign, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it.
People close to me have now stopped recommending books by men as default, and caveat recommendations with “Next year, you could check out...” – which I appreciate. Other people who I tell about my women-only reading habits have been pleasantly curious, and upon thinking about it, have almost unanimously agreed that they probably read many more books by men than by women.
One of the nicest things, though (and this is perhaps more related to the quantity side of the challenge) – is that for the first time in years, I've started to set aside time for reading. Prioritising a few hours each week for the delicious act of curling up in my chair and delving into a book feels like such a luxury, and yet practically speaking, relatively easy to obtain.
In an era when complaining about being busy has become somewhat of “a boast disguised as a complaint”, escaping 'the busy trap' and making space for those few hours was initially slightly bizarre for me. Sorry, I can't meet you for dinner, I have to read. No drinks after work, I have reading to do. These reasons sounded strange to my ears to start with, but I soon lost that hesitation, and realised that actually, they are very valid.
I've been keeping track of my books over on Goodreads, after I realised last year that it was difficult to remember what I'd read throughout the year. Having them all set out in a list allows me also to find patterns among my reading choices: Ursula K. LeGuin is by far my most preferred author (6 books out of the 23) and the majority, just, of the books are written by women of colour (12 books out of the 23).
My favourite book out of all of them – and one that I've passed on to friends and recommended to more people than I can remember – has been The Left Hand of Darkness, which was a book which genuinely changed my behaviour, and made me realise things about myself that I hadn't really considered before. In terms of reading, it was the first science fiction book I've read, and it hugely whet my appetite for a genre which I'd previously ignored, proof of which can be seen through the 7 other scifi books I've read this year.
Scifi aside, my favourites so far have probably been Alice Walker's The Colour Purple, which is one I'd been meaning to read for a while, Mia McKenzie's The Summer We Got Free, which was beautiful and mesmerisingly written, or perhaps Taiye Selasi's debut novel, Ghana Must Go, on identity and immigration.
In terms of non-fiction, bell hooks' The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love is another one of those books which left a long lasting impression on me, and which I've recommended widely since. My other favourite is on a very different topic; Emily Parker's “Now I know who my comrades are: Voices from the Internet Underground”, which looked at internet activism in Cuba, Russia and China, and was a wonderful example for me of recognising cultural differences when considering online behaviour.
It's also pretty satisfying, looking through my list of books read in 2014; next up is I Do Not Come To You by Chance, and The Book of Unknown Americans, which will be my first book this year written by someone from Latin America.
I've also started taking note of lists compiled by others of books written by women:
50 Books By African Women That Everyone Should Read – (there's currently only 25, but the rest coming soon)
Top 5 short stories by women of colour
A Buzzfeed quiz on the 102 greatest books by women
7 great novels by African women writers, by Minna Salami
The Year of Reading (Arab) Women – a book for every month that has been translated from Arabic into English
Any other recommendations – especially those written by women from Latin America, Asia or Africa (especially Francophone Africa – I feel I'm missing that perspective) – would be really welcomed. I'm looking forward to see what else I learn about in (hopefully) the next 26 books over the rest of 2014!
“That guy just said something really racist* to me.”
“Really? ...but he seems so nice!”
[*Throughout this post, you can replace the word “racist” with basically any type of prejudice or discriminatory behaviour, and everything will still be relevant.]
I've had this conversation more times than I can count, upon telling someone I'm with about the behaviour of someone else around us.
Every time I hear this response, I'm filled with utter disbelief. Do people think that racist idiots somehow look or act different to the rest of us, most of the time? That they have green horns sprouting from their heads, or walk around with a sign on their head advertising their particular form of bigotry? Or that they begin all conversations by explicitly stating their prejudices?
Let me save you some time; they don't.
In fact, most of the time these people function as a regular, perfectly pleasant human beings in society. And, if you don't happen to fall into a group against whom they discriminate, it's highly likely that you might never have witnessed their ugly behaviour. It makes sense, doesn't it? For them, you may well be exactly the right skin colour to fit within their bigoted views – so, clearly, you'll be seeing their very best side ( in effect, the person that they could be to everyone, were it not for those prejudices – isn't that sad?).
To state the very, very obvious: you are likely never going to personally experience a type of discrimination which is manifested against people who don't look/seem/act/behave like you.
But, and this is crucial, the fact you haven't personally experienced it doesn't mean it didn't happen, and it definitely doesn't mean you shouldn't believe that it did happen.
If someone is telling you about an unpleasant experience they've gone through (which is undoubtedly what happened for them to have started a conversation like the one above) – please, never question them. Listen to them.
It's already awkward and difficult to have to be the one who points out that someone at the party you're at, or in the social group you're in, actually holds ugly and offensive views. It's even more horrible to be put immediately on the defensive once you do bring yourself to tell an ally about it, let alone to have someone you thought you could depend on then actually defend the person in question, using the utterly farcical argument of:
“But they've never behaved like that towards me!”
A personal aside: every time I hear this, inside I'm screaming OF COURSE THEY HAVEN'T, YOU'RE WHITE...and outside, I explain my inner screams in the most socially appropriate way I can. Because, realistically, that's probably the most constructive and pragmatic thing I can do, right?
If you find yourself on the responding side of the situation above, anything you're going to say that starts with “but....” is a bad idea. No “but's”, just, I'm sorry that happened to you. Ask if they need anything, or if they would like that person to leave, and do what you can to support them.
It's not the responsibility of the person who has been a victim of said discrimination to “convince” you of the veracity of what they're saying; if they are telling you this, it's also likely that they trust you, and you should trust them too. And for God's sake, get over the naïve idea that bigots will somehow be anything but regular people, just like you and me.
I asked recently on Twitter if anyone had recommendations for reading material on the topic of postcolonial feminism; admittedly, a very general question, but sometimes it can be difficult to know where to start when you're new to a certain topic.
I got some great suggestions of reading material, and wanted to record them here for posterity, and in case they're useful to other people looking to learn more about the topic. I'm working my way through them now...
(Thank you to Chitra Nagarajan, Maya Ganesh, and Xeenarh for your suggestions! Any others – let me know.)
Essays and books
“Terrorist Assemblages: Homonationalism in Queer Times” by Jasbir Puar. She also has a range of other articles, including the wonderfully-titled “I'd rather be a cyborg than a goddess” and has some interesting-looking talks online, too. I'm keeping an eye on her 'Upcoming Events' for her next visit to Berlin...
Under Western Eyes:Feminist Scholarship and Colonial Discourses by Chandra Mohanty – this came up a lot, and seems to be a good place to start
Feminism without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity, by Chandra Mohanty
Third World Women and the Politics of Feminism by Chandra Mohanty
Feminist Genealogies, Colonial Legacies, Democratic Futures by Chandra Mohanty
This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color – a feminist anthology edited by Cherríe Moraga and Gloria E. Anzaldúa – this sounds pretty wonderful, and is next on my 'to-read' list. (and it's available in Spanish, too)
Telling to Live: Latina Feminist Testimonios by Latina Feminist Group, Luz del Alba Acevedo(Editor), Norma Alarc (Editor), Celia Alvarez (Editor), Ruth Behar (Goodreads Author) (Editor), Rina Benmayor (Editor) – a set of autobiographic essays on the Latina experience
Black Body: Women, Colonialism, and Space by Radhika Mohanram
Woman, Native, Other: Writing Postcoloniality and Feminism by Trinh T. Minh-ha
But Some Of Us Are Brave: All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men: Black Women's Studies, by Gloria T. Hull (Editor), Barbara Smith (Editor), Patricia Bell Scott (Editor)
Re-orienting Western Feminisms – Women's diversity in a postcolonial world, by Chilla Bulbeck
Challenging Imperial Feminism, by Valerie Amos and Pratibha Parmar
"Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory, and Antiracist Politics by Kimberle Crenshaw
Can the subaltern speak? - Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak
“Age, Race, Class and Sex: Women Redefining Difference,” by Audre Lorde
Shorter articles
Femen's obsession with nudity feeds a racist colonial feminism, by Chitra Nagarajan
Why we need to dismantle the myth of 'Western' feminism,
Gay Nigerians targeted as 'un-African' - Chika Oduah
How not to study gender in the Middle East – by Maya Mikdashi
Less related, but interesting-looking things I came across during this search:
Making Face, Making Soul/Haciendo Caras: Creative and Critical Perspectives by Feminists of Color, by Gloria E. Anzaldúa – a collection of essays
Nehanda, by Yvonne Vera – a novel set in Zimbabwe, “the portrait of resistance and struggle, a tale of a people's first meeting with colonialism.”
An open letter to people/organisations I've criticised for a lack of diversity
Below, in German.
Dear creators, curators, founders, employers, employees, anyone who is part of something that has been criticised for its lack of diversity,
I want to make sure you understand why we're criticising and calling you out in public. We're not trolling, I promise, we're trying to help.
I can imagine it might not be so nice for you, to launch a new [conference/organisation/company]* and be met with criticism from people you don't even know, about an issue you don't really care about, and perhaps one that you don't really think has anything to do with you.
You're wrong. It has everything to do with you, and your work.
I'm assuming here that you're a white male, judging from the 000s of examples I've seen. Let's say you have the best of intentions; you're determined to use your own (potentially, not inconsiderable) talents to change the world, and you're aware that you've benefited from opportunities that others might not have had.
So, you want to innovate, find new solutions, work with the most intelligent and talented people in your field, to make the world a better place. It just so happens that so many of those you know are, like you, white males. But so what? They, like you, have proven their colours – they've given up time to work on fascinating projects which you admire, and you'd relish the opportunity to work with them. Why shouldn't you?
Somewhere among your goodwill and desire to change the world and start something new, you're making a critical mistake. You're working with people who are just like you. You might disagree with them on a superficial level of certain topics, but essentially, your understandings of the world are exactly the same. You've all been treated in the same way by society, your worries and problems are largely the same, your priorities are the same.
What does this mean?
It means that the same stories/solutions/problems will jump out at you all. You'll focus on the same details – those that matter to you, and those around you (this example of how the Trayvon Martin case was covered in US media addresses this in far better detail). On a purely individual level, by surrounding yourself with people who are just like you, you're doing yourself a disservice – you're not giving yourself the chance to be challenged by different world views, by people who will argue with you and push you to be better at what you're doing. You're missing out on so much potential creativity that could be stimulated by getting to work with and understand people who've had entirely different life experiences to you.
And on a wider scale, you're missing out on a huge part of your audience. Outside of your bubble, people aren't like you, and they've been ignored for decades. Whatever you're doing, no matter how well you think you're doing it with all those intelligent white men around you, will never be able to address their needs as much as people who have lived similar experiences to them. In fact, by continuing to ignore them, you're simply maintaining the old status quo – anything but innovative, really.
A friend of mine recently told me that she's been trying to hire people who are “nothing like her, but who share the same passion”. It's not an easy way to do things, but it's bringing her and her team a huge amount of success; yes, there's disagreements, and debate, but if you're serious about challenging the way things are done at the moment, isn't that exactly what you want?
I'm hoping that all makes enough sense to you for you to be able to understand that initiatives like Gender Avenger, or 50 Prozent calling you out for a lack of diversity should be a wake up call to you; we're not rabbiting on about diversity simply for diversity's sake, but because having a diverse (and, let's be honest, interesting) work force, or conference line up, enriches whatever you're doing, and will help you do it better.
Listen to the people criticising you; we know that you can do better, and we're trying to help.
PS. There are so many other arguments to be made as to why diversity is needed; I just wanted to focus on a certain few here!
*************
Auf deutsch- danke an Julien Simonet für die Übersetzung!
Liebe Errichter, Kuratoren, Gründer, Arbeitgeber, Arbeitnehmer, alle welche Teil sind von etwas was für seinen Mangel an Vielfalt kritisiert wurde,
ich will sicherstellen, dass ihr versteht, wieso wir euch an die Öffentlichkeit zerren und kritisieren. Wir wollen euch nicht schmähen, ich verspreche es, wir versuchen zu helfen.Ich kann mir vorstellen, dass es unangenehm ist für euch, eine neue [Konferenz/Organisation/Firma] zu lancieren, um mit Kritik konfrontiert zu werden, von Leuten welche ihr nicht einmal kennt, über Aspekte welche euch nicht wirklich bekümmern, vielleicht über etwas worüber ihr denkt, dass es gar nicht wirklich mit euch zu tun hat.Ihr denkt falsch. Es hat alles mit euch zu tun und eure Arbeit.Aufgrund der x Beispiele die ich sah, vermute ich nun dass du ein weisshäutiger Mann bist. Lass uns annehmen dass du die besten Absichten hast; du bist entschlossen deine eigenen (potenzielle, nicht unbedeutende) Talente zu nutzen um die Welt zu ändern und du bist dir bewusst, dass du mit Möglichkeiten bevorteilt bist, über welche andere nicht verfügen.Also, du willst innovativ sein, neue Lösungen finden, mit den intelligentesten und talentiertesten Leuten Arbeiten in deinem Gebiet, um die Welt zu einem besseren Ort zu machen. Zufälligerweise sind die meisten von diesen welche du kennst weisshäutige Männer. Aber was soll’s? Sie, wie du, haben sich bewährt - sie haben Zeit aufgewendet für faszinierende Projekte welche du bewunderst und du würdest die Gelegenheit geniessen, mit ihnen zu Arbeiten. Warum solltest du nicht?Irgendwo zwischen deinem guten Willen und Wunsch die Welt zu verändern und etwas neues zu starten machst du einen kritischen Fehler. Du arbeitest mit Menschen welche sind wie du. Zwar widersprichst du ihnen vielleicht in gewissen oberflächlichen Aspekten gewisser Themen, aber eigentlich stimmt dein Weltbild exakt mit ihnen überein. Ihr wurdet von der Gesellschaft alle gleich behandelt, eure Sorgen und Probleme sind nahezu die gleichen, eure Prioritäten sind die selben.Was bedeutet das?Es bedeutet, dass die gleichen Geschichten/Lösungen/Probleme aus euch herauskommen werden. Ihr werdet alle auf die gleichen Details fokussieren - jene, die euch etwas bedeuten und jene die euch nahe stehen. Auf dich bezogen bedeutet dies, sich mit Menschen zu umgeben welche so sind wie du, dass du dir einen schlechten Dienst erweist - du verbaust dir die Chance, von verschiedenen Weltsichten herausgefordert zu werden, von Menschen welche Einwände anbringen können und dich vorwärts bringen um besser zu werden, in dem was du tust. Du verpasst so viel potenzielle Kreativität, in dem du darauf verzichtest mit Menschen zu Arbeiten welche komplett verschiedene Erfahrungen haben wie du.Bezogen auf das was über dich hinausgeht, verzichtest du auf einen grossen Teil deines Publikums. Ausserhalb deiner Blase sind die Leute nicht wie du, und sie wurden über Jahrzehnte ignoriert. Was auch immer du machst, unabhängig davon wie gut du dich glaubst mit all diesen intelligenten weisshäutigen Männern um dich, wird nie in der Lage sein, ihre Bedürfnisse so gut abzudecken wie es Menschen täten, welche ähnliche Erfahrungen taten wie sie. Vielmehr, indem du sie weiterhin ignorierst, pflegst du den alten status quo - alles andere als innovativ, echt jetzt.Eine Freundin von mir erzählte mir kürzlich, dass sie versucht hat Leute einzustellen welche „nicht sind wie sie, aber die selbe Leidenschaft teilen“. Es ist kein einfacher Weg, Dinge zu tun, aber es bringt ihr und ihrem Team haufenweise Erfolg ein; ja, da sind Meinungsverschiedenheiten, Debatten, aber wenn es dir damit Ernst ist, die Dinge wie sie im Moment sind herauszufordern, ist es nicht genau das was du willst?Ich hoffe, dass alles genug Sinn ergibt für dich, damit du in der Lage bist zu verstehen, dass Initiativen, welche dich um einen Mangel an Vielfalt kritisieren, einen Weckruf für dich darstellen sollen. Wir labern nicht über Vielfalt einzig um der Vielfalt willen, sondern weil eine vielfältige (und, seien wir ehrlich, interessante) Arbeitnehmerschaft, oder Konferenzteilnehmerschaft das was auch immer du tust bereichert und dir helfen wird, es besser zu tun.Höre auf Leute die dich kritisieren; wir wissen, dass du es besser machen kannst, und wir versuchen zu helfen.PS Da sind so viele andere Argumente anzubringen, wieso Vielfalt nötig ist; ich wollte mich hier nur auf ein paar wenige konzentrieren.
What works for me, won't work for you (but listen anyway)
When I was starting off my professional career, I was lucky to receive a number of pieces of advice. I absorbed them gratefully, very conscious of my naivety and inexperience, but slowly realised that many of the tips just wouldn't work for me; not because of my inability to implement the hints, but because of circumstances beyond my (immediate) control.
For example, my first business trip saw me travelling in the Middle East, in a conflict zone (Libya, in September 2011; Tripoli was under rebel control, but Gadaffi had not yet been found).
“If you get into trouble, be as authoritative as you can.”
Okay, I thought. So – speak loudly, and try to be intimidating.
“If people in positions of authority – at border crossings, army checkpoints, or airports – question you, speak louder and don't show them you are intimidated. Try and project your own importance as much as possible- no weakness, and if you need to, get angry at them, and they won't question you.”
Right. Any unexpected questions by army men with guns, I should respond with... anger. Hmm.
“Never let on that you speak anything but English, especially not at border crossings. You're British, you have a British passport, you speak only English, and pretend you are always more important than they are.”
Project self-importance. Don't let on any understanding of local culture. Duly noted.
There were lots of wise words, from well-respected and experienced people; I noted them down carefully, and resolved to be as intimidating, angry and self-important as possible, if it came to that.
Only... for those of you who know me, associating me with those adjectives will probably bring a smile to your faces. I don't think I've ever been intimidating (all 5”3 of me) – and I hate confrontation. Still, though, I tried... and, of course, it didn't work. At first, I thought I was doing it incorrectly – I wasn't being angry or loud enough, I wasn't acting the part of self-important Brit convincingly enough, my English accent wasn't pronounced enough... but after a few (in retrospect, far too many) attempts, I realised it wasn't my fault that the advice wasn't working.
As it turned out, that kind of behaviour worked for some combination of physical traits that I, unfortunately, did not possess. For those people, it worked better than I could ever have imagined, and it was almost astounding, the inherent respect assigned to a kind of behaviour which to my mind was, in a way, obtrusive and rude – but there was no denying that it worked.
The way that I could get out of (luckily, the very few) tricky situations I found myself in was by playing to the judgements and preconceptions that people made based upon my physical appearance. I wore a ring on my ring finger, and made up a fictional husband; I smiled at potentially threatening looking men, and tried to disarm them with small talk of their sisters and mothers; I laughed far too much at unfunny jokes... and realised that I'd found my own 'wise words.'
But while doing so then, and now, I'm conscious that I am, in a way, strengthening the very judgements and perceptions which frustrate me so much. Clearly, me getting angry at an egotistical man at a border crossing is not going to get me anywhere; but is me smiling and laughing along with his awful, self-important jokes in order to play to his ego and get myself across the border, actually any better?
Sadly, pragmatically speaking, yes. It gets me safely out of that situation, and that (in this case) is the main thing.
But then, how to change their perceptions and judgements? I suspect the answer lies not in behaving differently in difficult situations – there, I stand by the tactic of doing whatever you can to get safely out of said situation – but through other means, coming from the culture in question itself, namely education and awareness.
Being aware of how different cultures react to different demographics, and bearing that in mind while receiving advice has been very valuable, though. In retrospect, it probably took me longer than it should have done to reach that conclusion rather than simply trying, trying and trying a failing method again.
It's also made me, I hope, a bit more conscious of what I say to whom when I'm attempting to impart advice upon people; the tactics I use would in many cases not work for other people from other demographics, with different physical characteristics. I'm not saying by any means that this is right, or this is the way it should be; but pragmatically speaking, giving and imparting advice needs to take into account external factors as to whether it would, or could, be relevant for the other person.
