First Rant of the Fall

Earlier this week a video of a frosh event at St Mary's University in Halifax was posted on the net. The video, as shown on CBC, shows a bunch of students being lead in a chant that amongst other things suggests that sex with under age girls and non-consensual sex are not only just OK but is fact what people (males) expect. Not surprisingly - every one is horrified. The university administration, alumni, educators and politicians are all expressing their disappointment with the student leadership at SMU,  while other post secondary institutions are somewhat sanctimoniously jumping on the bandwagon by stating how much more sensitive their frosh weeks are. Fair enough. While it is hard to believe that in 2013 this issue even needs to be discussed, people who lead and participate in such activities need to be chastised in a very public way. Some of them will be forced to attend sensitivity sessions so that they can better understand why it was so wrong. I am not sure if that will do any good. One is sometimes forced to wonders if corporal punishment needs to be re-instated.

I am sure that those involved in frosh week at SMU are all quite embarrassed by this very public exposure. One hopes that their parents, their high school teachers and their university professors are also feeling embarrassed for their failure to instil in these young student leaders some basic understanding of human rights.

However this was not a new chant. According to media reports the same chant had been taught and practiced for a number of years during frosh (and one has to assume at other) events. Why didn't people get angry or upset last year? Or the year before that? Is the chant only so terribly wrong (and worthy of national news coverage) this year because it was exposed in such a public way?  Perhaps. Is St. Mary's the only university in Canada that has such antiquated rituals? I somehow don't think so.  

I suspect that the problem is far deeper than just a bunch of unaware, poorly educated students. I find it alarming that there were so many female students involved this year both as student leaders and as first year students who didn't express their outrage as the event was being planned or carried out. And with one exception last year no one complained then either - or the year before that. I don't mean that we should blame the victims or that it is only women who have a responsibility to protest where there are violations of basic human decency. However it is, as I have found out, very hard to engage young men in this dialogue when young women in my class are not prepared to support the basic argument that they are worthy of respect. As one young woman said of her frosh experience the previous year ..." I am not a feminist kind of person...so it didn't affect me personally"( National September 5, 2013. I want to yell out to her "Of course it affects you!!"

If I have any sensitivity or understanding as to the issues of equality that affect over half of the population of Canada it is because a number of caring, patient and sometimes forceful female peers took the time to share with me a different point of view; to teach me that the attitudes I had been raised with were potentially discriminatory, and to explain to me how important language was in the shaping of attitudes. I am grateful to those women. 

It saddens me that the young young men of today do not have such teachers and such friends.

 

On the Road Again 2013 # 14

I am now back in my apartment. I am obviously somewhat behind in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in sequential order.

The next few days were a curious blend of high tension combined with peace and contentment. We still, through a ceremony that I focalized, lit the sacred fire, people continued to build structures including a huge eight foot high mound made up of logs and sand to hold a fire to dance around, we still ate great food and the pleasure of being with folks who were so warm, accepting and in many cases so hard working was constant. At the same time - once a day the park rangers dropped in for a visit to remind us that by the weekend they expected us to demonstrate that we understood the message and that we were leaving. They told us that the park had been closed and that no more people were allowed into the park. While they never said it in so many words, there was an implied threat that if we didn't move the police would become involved.

The park rangers were great guys. They didn't like being the "heavies" in the situation and I think genuinely enjoyed sitting with us in the circle and talking. I think most of us were very respectful towards them and appreciated the fact that they both had bosses above them telling them what to do and that they cared for the forest as much as we did. I think at least one of them would have been quite comfortable in taking off his uniform and spending a few days with us.

The whole thing was really out of their control. Somehow the media had got hold of the story and had suggested that 2,000 people were already camping on the beach. Whereas in fact there were never more than 125 of us. There apparently was a Facebook page that was full of miss-truths and  rumours that caused great concern amongst the politicians. It was their (the politicians) decision to kick us out and they made the decision without knowing all of the facts. Similarly the First Nation community has been told that there would be thousands on the beach. All of this could have been dealt with if the scouts had talked to the local people first. Or if at the Vision Council it had been made clear that this was not some remote site but rather a sparsely but reasonably actively used provincial campground. The Family generally does not camp in easily assessable, frequently used campgrounds.

The process of moving was complicated by two separate issues. One was the fact that this Gathering was a World Gathering. Some silly people, none of whom had ever been to BC had decided at a Gathering in Brazil to make BC the next site. There was all kinds of logic behind this decision but they should have asked first if a Gathering in BC in August when there is almost always a fire ban was a good plan. World Gathers have some very clear notions of how a Gathering is to be run and how decisions are made (in council, by consensus). Some of them were determined not to move until some scouts reported back as to a new site. They appeared to be content to wait a week or so. They did not seem to realize that waiting that long was not an option. I was involved in a couple of discussions that were surprisingly complex and bureaucratic feeling.

The second problem was that many folks, including me, had hitchhiked to the Gathering. We had no easy way out. I had planned to leave after a week or so so I could get back to my family, but others had planned on staying for a full month. Thinking about how to get out was not something any of us had given a lot of thought to. The parks service hired a shuttle van. The first one was scheduled to leave at 5:30 one evening and the next at 9:30 the following morning. I don't know how many people used the service. I suspect not very many did as  somehow it felt like being taken to the the town limits by the sheriff. What they expected 15-20 dirty hippies to do in Port Hardy was never discussed. We did suggested only slightly tongue-in-cheek that a ride further down the highway would work better.

I never had to decide what to do as Rosie and Ignacio offered me a ride to Duncan. I gratefully accepted. On Monday we started to do clean up. The beach was swept by about 8 or 9 of us, scouring the sand for the tiniest bits of paper or plastic. I think we filled 4-5 garbage bags. Virtually none of the garbage was from the Family. All of the structures were taken down (including a volley ball net and some logs that had been assembled to making a climbing game/exercise). We counciled later that afternoon but no consensus was reached as to what to next. The scouts had gone down to a place called Rainbow beach on Kennedy lake near Tofino. We were still waiting to hear if they had got permission. It was frustrating to have to leave without there being an agreement as to what people were going to do.

We left Tuesday lunch hour. I had only spent seven days there, but like all Gatherings, it felt like I had know the people there forever. Even more than most Gatherings I left with a profound sense of sadness and lost. I also left with the knowledge that once again I had been blessed to be with people who I am honoured to call my Family. The walk back to the parking lot was not as bad as I feared. It still took me longer than some but I did pass three people (of course they were loaded with far more gear then me). I passed one of the park rangers going in for his daily check. We shook hands and he invited me to drop into the office the neck time I was in the area. As we had some time to kill until the fourth another passenger appeared, I started to clean up the parking lot. It wasn't too bad but there were little bits and pieces of paper etc on the ground. One of the park rangers saw me and he came over to help me. It felt good to be working together on at least one thing

On the Road Again 2013 # 13

While I am now back in my apartment, I am obviously somewhat behind in my blog postings..... I will continue to discuss my trip in sequential order

The near clear sky next morning gave promise to another glorious day. I had slept well in the sack but had been under the assumption that sand was soft ( I won't bore you with repeating the conversation I had with some one earlier in the summer about soft and hard beaches) and therefore I did not need to use my air mattress. I was wrong. Sand can be and was just as hard any other material. While I had managed to dig little pockets for my hip and shoulders, it had not be a comfortable night. I put my inflated mattress into the sack before I did anything else. I could have survived without it but as I had it with me, it made sense to use it. I also raised the corners of the tarp. It was a bit low and it was awkward accessing my stuff.

I usually don't have breakfast with my family. Rainbow porridge, while some folks like it, is not to my taste. As well, given the nocturnal habits of my brothers and sisters, breakfast has sometimes been know to be served fairly close to noon. However at this Gathering I think I had breakfast four or five times. The folks who were cooking were up early and we ate well before 10:00 on at least a couple of the mornings. They were also very tasty breakfasts. There were stewed apples with cinnamon, lots of brown sugar to go with the porridge and some other rather delicious concoctions.

Later in the day I helped some very enthusiastic folks dig a deep hole in the sand and then line it with logs so we would have a place to put some canned and dry goods in. I say help - but in fact I did relatively little. There were just too many people wanting to work far harder than I could. As well I was uncomfortable with the possibility of bears and what they might be able to get into. I was reasonably sure that with the number of dogs around and the noise that we made, that most reasonable bears would stay away. I would have been happier if we had used the steel bear proof boxes that we at the park but folks didn't want to listen. On the assumption that the kitchen was kept clean and nothing perishable was placed in the pit - it seemed to be a reasonable option. As well the bear proof container would not have been big enough to hold all of the food that would be arriving.

One morning after the folks had had a late night feast of five salmon that had been donated to them, I spoke for more than a few minutes on the problem of bears and how dangerous it all could be if they decided to raid our camp. I don't very often wear my "elder" cap. In fact I usually refuse both the label and any of the assumed wisdom that goes with it. But that morning I made a point of being rather forceful about people being sloppy around safe bear habits. I am not too sure if it did any good. Equally as concerning was the fact that someone had observed a pack of wolves across the river. We did not need them to prey upon the dogs. The river was too deep to ford and the tide ensured that there was almost always a current going up or down the river. So I think it was safe. I would have been happier if people were as concerned as I.

All of the days I was at the Gathering were sort of like that. The weather was cloudy for a few days but generally folks got up early, someone made breakfast and work parties were created. For example the river up to the supply truck was partially blocked by fallen trees so for two days, crews went up there to clear the river to make it easier for the canoes to make in down with the food. People lazed around, played in the water. chatted, and played any one of the 7-8 guitars stashed around the campfire or the kitchen. Supper was served well before dark (unusual at some Gathering to eat before dark) and then we companionably chatted until it was time to wander off to our sleeping bags. It sound rather idyllic. And it was except for one little problem.

Two of the Park Rangers came by the second day that I was there. They told us that we were not welcome at the park and that we needed to leave. They gave a couple of reasons: 1) the park was too ecological sensitive to support the anticipated numbers of people, 2) the scouts had not asked for permission and 3) the local First Nation community on whose traditional lands we were camping had not been consulted. All of those things should have been addressed by the folks who scouted and recommended the site. They were not and therefore there was no doubt that we would have to move.

The following day more senior people arrived by helicopter and gave the same message. Two days later another larger helicopter arrived with the traditional chief of the First Nations who asked us the leave. Around the circle as we passed the talking stick around and around there was mixed reaction. Some of the Europeans had some difficulty understanding why we needed to listen to the Indigenous people of the area. For them - no one owns the land. For people like me it was very clear. We had messed up. We had not consulted with the local people and we should have.

As glorious as the spot was - we did not belong. I started calculating how I would get out.