Power Struggle

For a moment, I thought I might be returning to class within the next two days, as an emergency meeting was called by our Provinical government to legislate the striking graduate students and contract faculty back to work. Alas, one of the opposition parties, the New Democratic Party, could not agree to the notion of forcing these people back to work without ratifying an agreement with their employer. Since back-to-work legislation requires unanimity in Parliament - at least that is how I understand it - this bill must be debated and pass through the required number of readings before implementation. Depending on the side of the fence on which you find yourself, this is a rousing victory or a colossal bummer.

During the last three months, I've witness a considerable amount of disconcerted, even hostile, sentiments towards the Union and its members. I can understand the frustration harboured by students and parents for fear of having their and their children's education compromised by what seems like a squabble over money. Some argue that this is not the time to be making such demands, as we find ourselves in an economic downturn. Others argue they earn more than enough, and that they should simply change jobs if they are unhappy with the current one. Still others argue the Union has no right to hold students hostage. Personally, I do not deny the Union's desire to seek as much as it feels it can get, nor do I disagree with the notion that the modern-day Union is more interested in accumulating more stuff for its members than in altering the way we operate (Hansen, 2001). For all we know, the heads in the CUPE nerve centre have been using this opportunity to play politics, using the members of Local 3903 as bait. Still, that doesn't excuse the enormous disparity between that on which graduate students and contract faculty must live and what the executives at the University take home.

If I've learned anything during these past three months, it's that when you're the perceived authority, you can play dirty pool and ascertain your most desired outcome; I can't help but cogitate this plausibility on the part of the University. Right now, it seems the Union hasn't a leg on which to stand, now that the Province is trying to usher its members back to work; somehow, someone in that ivory tower knew precisely how to weaken the stance of the striking workers and played this hand accordingly. I don't know about you, but I cannot swallow the argument that the University has no money to spare when, as of May, it raised $150 million in its fiftieth anniversary campaign, and especially when its top executive earns as much as he does while having the University pay for a private car and driver. I certainly cannot swallow the argument that the Union's demands cannot be met when our Members of Provincial Parliament almost unanimously approved a twenty-five percent pay hike for themselves.

Students have every right to be upset about being out of class for the last three months, but we ought not to be so quick to lay blame at those who are on strike, as their employer is just as culpable, if not more. If you ask me, I feel the issue lies well beneath the numbers on the offer sheets that have been passed back and forth across the bargaining table: this is our own greed raising its ugly head to the surface; each one of us is guilty. That being said, I have difficulty not rooting for the underdog. Sure, I would love to see a world in which all players are seen as invaluable, not certain players over others, but until that happens, we of so-called lesser value must band together to demonstrate our worth in society. If it means shutting down the wheels of production in the process, so be it, until the "authority" sees the folly in believing it wields the power.

The President of our school fears this will lead to a Province-wide strike in 2010. When I think about it, I don't know if it is such a bad idea. Perhaps workers from other industries can stand together with them - given what's about to happen this year, I wouldn't be surprised to see the masses take to the streets, though hopefully in a peaceful manner. Perhaps undergraduate students need to get on board as well if they wish to receive a real education rather than some glorified training program on how to be validated by a supposed authority.

Our problems won't be magically whisked away by some piece of legislation: we have to work to eradicate them, but first, we have to know what they are.

The House Negro and the Field Negro

Yesterday, we commemorated the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who envisioned a world in which people were not judged by their skin tone, in which people lived in harmony. Today, the world sees a beacon of hope, as it is about to witness the first man of African descent take the oath of office and officially become President of the United States. While it is monumental for America to elect a person of colour as the face of the nation, we must not cash in our chips just yet, which is why I share the following video with you, a discourse by Malcolm X titled "The House Negro and the Field Negro".

Enjoy.



In the time of Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., "change" did not come from the top and trickle down; rather, it came from the ground up. If we really want "change", we cannot expect a head of state to wave his magic wand: we must facilitate it ourselves.

For your reading pleasure, click here for a response to the comparisons being drawn between America's new President and the late Dr. King.

On Panacea

I'm feeling conflicted. I want to be a benevolent force, however diminutive my impact may be, on our society at large, yet I don't know if I've been doing anything, nor what I am supposed to do or how to do it. I've ventured along a particular path during which I have gained immense insight not only into the universe, but also myself, and now I'm asked to sell the merits of this path to others - at least this is how I interpret the matter. Can I really do that? I've always figured myself a shitty salesperson, I suppose because I feel what I have to offer is not meant to be sold.

At times, I claim to have all the answers, and each time, without fail, I realize I do not. Perhaps I harbour an insatiable need to satiate my craving for a feeling of superiority, thereby professing to know this and that. Truth be told, how many of us can truly know how our realm operates? Some have come very close, but can they ever get there? More importantly, is any one path more genuine than another? Can any one of us claim to possess all the answers? A while ago, I had a discussion with a young man about spirituality and we each acknowledged we were on different paths to the same reality.

This last line describes the essence of why life is so beautiful: we're each on our own paths that ultimately lead us through the same trials and tribulations on our way to the same goals and rewards, and each of us has a description for it. Isn't it wonderful to live in such a place in which we can share our experiences and bask in the experiences of others? Isn't it wonderful to be able to bring our ideas to unity?

Wait, do we actually do such a thing? Or are we so bent on being heard, we neglect to listen? We kill each other over our respective beliefs and idols, yet if we stopped to listen, we would see they belong to the same story, only the names of the players have changed. We engage in fierce competition to be heard over all others and exhaust whatever resources are at our disposal to do so, we forget that the voices of others are no less valid than ours, voices that fall on deaf ears.

Don't take it from me, though, for who am I to say I have the cure for whatever ails you?

The End of Business

A wise man once described to me the meaning of the word "business", which is, in his words, the practice of giving for the purpose of receiving some form of personal accolade. The following is a tale of what "business" entails. After reading, ask yourself if doing "business" is such a good idea.

Judging by what I've been seeing on the news, this new calendar year of ours is not exactly off to a promising start. The "hot topic" seems to be the war Israel is waging on Gaza in retaliation for the incessant barrage of rocket attacks by Hamas in retaliation for the throttling of resources to Gaza in retaliation for... we would need many words to chronicle several thousand years of strife, yes? Just as we were becoming one with the idea of being broke, our masters are rekindling our fear of the "bad guys", thereby justifying the slaughter of a people about whom we don't seem to give a damn.

Of course, this isn't the only mess on our collective plate, I'm afraid. Remember Iraq? Yes, there's still a war happening there, in which people like you and me are dying en masse every single day. It matters not what year it is on the calendar; surviving the day is an accomplishment in itself. Have we become so habituated to the chaos in Iraq that it has escaped our consciousness entirely? And what about Afghanistan? Yes, there's still a war happening there. For thirty-some-odd years, the people of the region have had to deal with the same old shit; the only things that have changed are the uniforms and flags of the players. The announcements of our dead - only "our" dead, for "their" dead aren't even worth counting, let alone honouring - and the subsequent parades of their remains through our nation's streets have faded into the backdrop of our existence.

Recently, the government forces of Sri Lanka captured the de facto capital of the LTTE, known to us Western folk as the "Tamil Tigers", branded by our officials as bogeymen. As with the aforementioned conflicts, the coverage of this one is one-sided: no mention, save for the odd glib statement, given to why the LTTE exists or what its motives are; no mention given to the Tamil cries for justice; no mention given to the treatment of the Tamil people by the government of Sri Lanka. Perhaps thirty years of bloodshed could have been avoided if each side listened to one another.

Now, let us move onto a blooless yet equally nefarious conflict: the labour strife at York University, the institution I've been attending as an undergraduate student for the last two years. As we wonder if we will ever see the end to this dispute, I was met with a mass communication from the head of our department on behalf of the administration, announcing it is forcing the members of the Union to cast a secret ballot, to be monitored by our Ministry of Labour, on their latest offer, with the hope that we will return to class as soon as possible. To be honest, though I've paid heaps of money in tuition and graduate school applications, I don't know how eager I am to return to class. Universities have already shown they can dick us around without fear of reprisal by inflating our tuition year after year and treating us like trained animals who perform for treats - why else are grades the hallmark of learning? - now, it seems, they can do the same to their workers.

After writing these paragraphs, the lesson to me seems obvious: when you have the power, you are free to act in as underhanded a manner as you see fit to ascertain whatever you want. If I was feeling pessimistic today, I might resign myself to such sentiment; since this is not the case, I'm going to toss this bullshit aside and share an experience that gives me hope for the future.

My friend and I have taken it upon ourselves to challenge each other by approaching random people in the street and striking up a conversation, something most wouldn't normally do. Swirling through my head - and I'm sure his, too - were thoughts such as "S/he doesn't want to be bothered," "I have nothing to say to this person," "What if s/he is uncomfortable with my presence?" and the like, but once the ice was broken, it became easier and easier; the words simply flowed from me. I wanted to gauge their thoughts on how we could create a lasting peace in our society, and if they felt these wars abroad were connected to the manner in which we deal with one another, and, more importantly, how they feel about the interactions in their lives. I met a young lady from China who is attending university here; from what she said to me, she feels very isolated in these parts - my memory may not serve me correctly, so if I'm wrong, I extend my sincere apologies to her - though hopefully, having a "stranger" lend her an ear may have instilled a glimmer of hope. I also met a young man, also a student, from Turkey. Being of Greek origin, I could not help but comment on the tendency for Greeks and Turks to harbour disdain for one another, to which he responded by telling me of the multitude of Greek friends he has. If only my uncle and other Greek figures I know could have been there that evening.

Despite our differences in language or cultural/religious beliefs or skin tone or title, we all think and feel and breathe the same and have to deal with the same shit, be it labour, political or armed strife. These differences of ours do not penetrate the surface of our being, which is why I have hope for the future. Some day soon, we will all awake to the reality that, however overwhelming the world may be, we all must live in it together. Killing and maiming one another does us no good; when we pick up a gun and shoot someone else out of fear that they may do the same, we become that which we seek to eradicate; in short, we kill ourselves. We are not the titles we affix to our business cards, nor are we the flags that flap in the wind, nor the books from which we acquire our knowledge, nor the company we keep, nor even the very species by which we identify ourselves: whether on two or four or more or no legs, we all belong to the divine, and we are all beautiful.