Chronically Awkward

So, things are going a bit backwards and forwards in school. I'm making progress but sometimes there are just setbacks. Lets review:

I felt my London-ness shrivel up and die a little this past week, not gonna lie. Who would have thought 5 days outside of my little Buckingham would have been such a roller coaster?

Not me dammit.

So. What happened you ask? Let me give you 4 words.

1. Waterfall 
2. Training 
3. Lumberjack-shack 
4. Rudolph 

(oh that last one is a doozie)




Alright, lets talk training:

All the assistants in the land - Canadians, Mexicans, English and Chinese - gathered for an all expenses paid hotel stay #winning in QC for 3 to basically discuss how we've survived this long in our primary/secondary school/university/adult education classes. We shared problems, solutions, stories, drank (and stole saved for later) free tea/coffee/juice like grown-ups in our separate meetings.

We were then be pumped full of all the teaching knowledge of the past few decades courtesy of Jacqueline a.k.a the good Christian female version of Yoda.

She's a brilliant teacher but nan runs through her veins so hard. Every story linked to an anecdote about one of her students - #SideNote the woman has skills because the way her students have grown up to be mechanics, engineers and doctors... - or one of her adopted children (boy - Cambodia, girl - Vietnam), or her grandchildren and how they learnt to speak, in English or in French.

She was so cute! ^^ Something straight out of the fifties. Taught us how to do 'ballin the jack', a cute little dance from the fifties! I wish I could have taught her to migraine skank or something, the woman put energy into her moves man!

If you wish to make my dreams come true press play on these two videos (dance vid on mute) and match the music with the dance to see how I would do 'ballin the jack' in my world - yes, I have nothing better to do than find things like this loool.



Then came the lumberjack-shack experience....

Basically this was the equivalent of a uni social, we all had to dress up as lumberjacks - lots of plaid... - and go to a sugar shack (the cabin in the woods where they collect sap from maple trees and make sugar/syrup/candy etc). We learnt how they make it - I remember nothing - and then allllllll had a big old meal. By meal I mean : baked beans, boiled potatoes, scrambled eggs (that's right), homemade meat pie, slices of ham, pancakes and bread...yeah.....can't lie, for the meal part my face was caught between:




Entertainment consisted of the accordion playing equivalent of Pavarotti, playing his greatest hits including popular renditions of the 'Chicken Song', the 'Macarena' and 'YMCA'..........

And for the cabaret show, some of the English, Mexicans, Germans and Canadians (some in mixed batches) prepared talent acts to show us. The Germans pretty much slaughtered everybody with an amazing performance of the cup song, but the Brits + 1 Mex + 1 Canadian did an excellent improv of comedy and drama. On the musical side of things there was an acoustic rendition of 'Blurred Lines', songs from all the Canadian provinces, guitar solos, a band playing an Irish jig - yes there was jigging, Mexican singing and salsa etc. It was interesting for me, my version of  a party usually involves a dark room, pounding bass line and veeeeery different dancing but it was actually fun for the most part.


After our 3 day non-getaway the LBG decided to hit Montreal on the way home. But before leaving QC we went to visit the Montmorrency waterfall. A very unwise decision ensued.

We took photos from a loooovely distance....saw a rainbow....obviously we chased it and ended up way too close to the falls. And then we thought, well, lets go up the stairs and go as close as humanly possible.

#SideNote

• It was so cold our fingers (which had no gloves to their name) were burning.
• We had no umbrellas.
• We did not realise that waterfalls, are wet.

Ok so, before we get into it, Ima write myself a mini 'to do list' of all the things I have to blog about. This week and last week were just flippin draining so I haven't had any real energy to blog so I'll catch y'all up now ^^

1. Do I even remember last week
2. Thanksgiving madness
3. Coconuts
4. Shopping out of control
5. Carrie
6. Pumpkin pie changed my life

But I just can't.

I physically can't, so Ima just get it all off my chest now and then leave it alone (forgive me if I don't express myself/communicate my ideas too well, academic writing etc is not a strong point and I am not a theologists/sociologist/historian or whatever). Recounting the story still sets me off so I better just try and let it all out here.

So, Quebec was doing soooooo well in my opinion book, I loved it honestly, didn't feel out of place too much and was loving life. And then Halloween.....Halloween costumes.....anyone see where I'm going with this?

That's right kids:


BLACKFACE.


I KID YOU NOT!


I fully, fully wish I could have continued my blissful existence with racism always being in the periphery of my life and not directed at/near me, whether maliciously or ignorant. So did my parents, as they told me.

But no.

One FOOL decides he wants to paint himself brown (read black) for Halloween and dress up as whoever.

I didn't notice till my friend Joe pointed him out when he was standing behind me (flip sake) as we were facing mirror walls.

My face fell. Mood - ruined. Blood - boiling. I ended up having an abbreviated private rant with Gwynne ( a Manchester Uni friend), leaving and then actually going back to the hostel for a little cry. Not gonna lie, with my throngs of (read non existent) audience members no harm in a little honesty lol.

First.

For those of you thinking/saying to yourselves, really...she cried over one idiot in facepaint? whether you be black or any other ethnicity, please feel free to:

a) hush your gums and read on
b) be quiet and have several seats, your lack of understanding of my reaction does not detract from the issue
c) exit my blog and read about whatever you would prefer instead of this
d) any combination of the above options


For those of you who have not left let me recount the quick math I did in my head that night and when I recounted the story to Gwynne, Grace and Amy the next day:

The bouncer let him in + he got served at the bar + girls were dancing with him + he was walking around happy as larry and no one said anything

Lets pause the equation. So far all of the people mentioned are guilty (even by association) of being ignorant/condoning and not having a problem with his behaviour and (possibly unintentional) out-and-out racism. Which therefore is offencive to me and (as I was not the only one) the (few) other black people in the club.

Now, lets factor in the key problem:

x his BLACK friend had no problem with his costume  - he said he would be offended if someone other than his friend was in blackface.....

My brother....my brotherrrrrrrrr. I almost feel to box you as well as your friend. Are you mad?

This is right up there with those idiotic black people that will allow their non-black friends to call them the nword.

Do not provide a safe space for this behaviour. Not now. Not ever. Because when you roll out in public like that idiot you offend others around you that don't share your 'liberal' 'it's just a word/paint' views.

If we were in London, New York etc, we know it would not have gone well for him.

This also did not take place in Spain, or any other place known for certain/high levels of racial ignorance.



In terms of leaving, I had to because the way I reacted was not the one. It sparked some next hatred/anger/sadnessforhumanity cocktail.

Let me pause again for anyone else what would like to leave, and just say this:

a) unless you can experience some racial equivalent of blackface, please be silent
b) if you are black and feel it would not bother you the way it did me, we all share a race as a collective but are still individuals, and experience all things, including racism differently. If it doesn't bother you, nice for you but, my blog, my feelings...

It made me start to almost hate people around me (see the equation) because I know good and well what would have happened if this was London. But, alas I'm not in ethnically aware Kansas anymore.

Gwynne saw I was struggling and wasn't having a bar so he let me rant then walked me home because I couldn't stay in that place. Even walking past that person on the way out made me itch to be violent (yes even the urge to break a chair over his head came up).

For those of you thinking, well, he didn't know what he was doing/his friend convinced him it was ok....No. Just no. You and him can please and thank you refer to the wikipedia for blackface and understand the racial and historical connotations of doing it. When you put on that paint you put on allllll the history and oppression that comes with it. It is not optional, you cannot just sprinkle banter or Halloween over it.

Ask (read google) Julianne Hough and let her story confirm it. Even Tyra got heat for doing whiteface, for those of you who think it can/can't or should/shouldn't be able to go both ways.

No one else got it, or saw it, the way I did - at least that's how I felt/feel. I felt like I was in my own private twilight zone where everything was backwards.

When I got home I was just exhausted with the weight of all my thoughts. People actually do this and think it's normal. Other ELA's had already told me about students dashing the nword about in their schools and other ignorant comments, and how teachers don't get the seriousness of it etc and how they can't get their students to stop. Luckily, I don't have that problem in my school. But I wish I could be in their schools because as the only black British ELA I'm the only one that word actually holds personal significance for, the only one it can actually hurt and I would challenge my whole school over it's use. I would send a whole bunch of ethnic minority ELAs over to Quebec in an instant just to combat the use of that word and any other equivalents being thrown around.

It took me to what our co-ordinator refers to as 'crisis point'. In between the 'honeymoon' and 'adaptation' stages of living in a foreign country. Some people like to say I weep for humanity, well, I did a little. Well, more than a little tbh.

I felt so alone but wanted to scream at the top of my lungs or go on a rampage or give a speech or something. But then what? Be trapped in the 'angry black girl' stereotype?

Honestly I just cried, prayed and went to sleep. When you reach that point the only thing to do is try to forgive, let go and be an example. And as my dad said, address the issue and make your point about it. Which is what I'm doing (or trying to at least).

Reactions from people I've told about this/who were there have ranged from sympathetic discomfort, silence, sympathetic emoticons, 'peak' or other one word answers or mutual outrage (no guessing who hit the jackpot on that one...).

Not gonna lie, some of those reactions (again not rocket science to guess which), were not what I expected or wanted. But to make the point, draw the line in the sand and let people know just how not okay something is, it has to be talked about. And thankfully, people will surprise you. Like Aimee, who, after my stroppy exit spoke to the guy (she had no idea at the time when I was there), told him about himself and his outfit and discovered the unfortunate 'friend validation' situation and even had something for the friend too, from what I recall.

So, although a day later, faith in humanity was restored.

I'm tired now so I'll end with this....

In the excellent words of my friend Gwynne:

'Ignorance is a disease,babes.'

Truer words.


and Martha Plimption (on Julianne Hough):





It's as simple as that.