doctoral candidate in rhetoric and scientific and technical communication
war
all roads lead to congo
23 years ago
Several years ago, I read Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible
Flash forward to November 2008. I am on a mailing list for PhD students in my program. Our director of graduate studies, Bernadette Longo, sent out an email about a class, WRIT 5112, she will be teaching in the spring. She wrote,
This course focuses on the theory and practice of information design. For the first half of the class, we will read about information design, information architecture, and related issues pertaining to this course topic. In the second half of the class, we will work with First Step Initiative, a non-profit microfinance organization working with women entrepreneurs in the Democratic Republic of Congo (www.firststepinitiative.org). We will work with FSI and its founder, Chingwell Mutombu, to design cell phone based social networking tools to connect people in the US (and at the U) with people in Congo, as well as connect FSI entrepreneurs and staff with each other in Congo.
After reading her synopsis, I wrote to her immediately. While I don’t need an information design course, I was interested in the subject matter. It has been my lifelong dream (since I was in high school, at least) to work in an environment or on a project that will make women’s lives better. I gushed. I was very enthusiastic and nearly insinuated myself on her to be a TA in her course. I wanted to be a part of this. In fact, I was worried that I had gone overboard, but Bernadette, being the fabulous person she is, recognized my enthusiasm for real desire to be a part of something wonderful and said she’d she what she could do to help me be a part of the project (I can’t actually take the class because I am already registered for the classes I need).
Since then, Bernadette and I have spoken a bit more in depth about this course. Ms. Mutumbu sounds like an amazing person and I was finally able to have my first glimpse of her in a video produced for this course.
While all of this was going on, I was looking at some websites of activist photographers (one is in Chile, another in Afghanistan) who show atrocities going on in different parts of the world. That’s when I stumbled on Condition Critical, a site that discusses the realities of war in the eastern part of Congo (DRC).
I had been aware of the issues that affected women in the Kivu provinces of DRC. As Wikipedia states (my emphases)
The war situation has made the life of women more precarious. Violence against women seems to be perceived by large sectors of society to be normal. In July 2007, the International Committee of the Red Cross expressed concern about the situation in eastern DRC. A phenomenon of ‘pendulum displacement’ has developed, where people hasten at night to safety. According to the UN Special Rapporteur on Violence, Yakin Ertürk, who toured eastern Congo in July 2007, violence against women in North and South Kivu included “unimaginable brutality”. “Armed groups attack local communities, loot, rape, kidnap women and children and make them work as sexual slaves,” Ertürk said.
While this violence is mostly restricted to the east, all Congolese women struggle for a sense of place, ownership, and safety. Ms. Mutombu is making a difference in the lives of women, one at a time. I would be honored to be a part of this.
up in flames
0I get the “flaming liberal” moniker more often than not. What people don’t realize about me is that I was born into a 5 generation Navy family. I was a Navy brat, traveling around the country with my Dad. Both of my grandfathers were Navy. Most of my uncles were Navy.
My family has a long history in the military. So, I’m not some Ivy League kid grousing at the injustices of war. I’m talking about human lives. I have a great uncle that I never got to meet because he was killed in WWII at the bombing of Pearl Harbor. War sacrifices good men. War legitimizes bad behavior (at times).
We have to look at it and ask if that’s what we want from war. Do we want to walk away feeling pretty good about our actions or do we want to walk away feeling like we let something happen that was atrocious? We have that power to decide.
grieving
0My heart grieves.
My heart grieves for the family of Nick Berg.
Can you imagine getting a phone call to tell you that your son has been killed in a foreign land? Can you imagine, two days later, finding out that there is a video on the internet showing your son being decapitated? Can you imagine having having hundreds of reporters on your doorstep wanting your every reaction to this horrendous act, to the death of your beloved child, a child that wanted to help others?
My heart grieves for the mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters of the tortured Iraqi men who were kept at Abu Ghraib prison.
Can you imagine seeing your loved one humiliated? Can you imagine seeing your loved one bruised, beaten, and degraded? Can you imagine having the world at your doorstep wondering about your affiliations, your loyalties?
War is a horrendous event.
The people who have partaken in all of these acts have perpetrated crimes that are far beyond the horrendous acts of war. They have taken actions into their own hands and have humiliated and killed not only the people that are the direct victims but they have hurt entire nations.
These crimes are not indicative of democracy, Islam, or any number of other affiliations that people may want to associate with them. They are the acts of people who are not seeing reason, who are not seeing the humanity of the people they are dealing with. The victims have become a cause.
A cause I don’t support.
piestewa
0She was a daughter first. She became a sister, a mother, a friend, a co-worker. She ended up being a national hero.
Pfc. Lori Ann Piestewa was the first Native American woman to die in combat fighting for the United States.
On Saturday, a memorial was held where more than 5,000 people showed up in a remote part of Arizona to pay their respects. Attendees included Arizona’s governor, Janet Napolitano, and the Arizona First District congressman, Rick Renzi.
A movement to rename Squaw Peak (a derogatory term for Native American women), to Piestewa Peak has begun in our state’s capital (with much resistance, unfortunately).
Pfc. Lori Ann Piestewa was a Hopi but was a part of the Navajo and Hopi communities (the Hopi nation actually lies in the middle of the Navajo nation).
At her memorial, a program of the day’s events given to all who attended contained a simple “Hopi Prayer”.
A HOPI PRAYER
Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on the ripened grind. I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry: I am not there, I did not die.
our roles
0On NPR this morning, I heard the latest installment of their War Diaries. It was recorded at Amphi High in Tucson. In an English class, the students turned from poetry to the talk of war.
Many of them were worried about nuclear war. Many were worried that it would come for them next.
It started me thinking on how we adults tend to drag children into things that may not be good for them, are not healthy for them, and put them in positions they shouldn’t be in.
This isn’t an attack on the U.S. or our government. It’s an inquiry into the roles of adults. It’s something that happens all over the world. From crack addicts putting their children into situations where the children basically have to act like the adults to abuse situations to the prostituting of children to children living through war.
Don’t we have a responsibility to shelter our kids a bit more? Don’t we have a responsibility to give the children of this world a place where life isn’t a hardship? Don’t we have a responsibility to allow them to be children?
The children of war-torn Africa, starving, distended stomachs, bugs flying around their eyes, have always broken my heart. No child should have to live through that. Children in the United States living on street corners, begging for food. Bosnian girls being raped systematically.
We cry out against atrocities but maybe we aren’t crying out loudly enough. The next generation is hurting. The generation that is going to be the caretakers of the world when we are all at their mercy are growing up in fear, hunger, anger, and loss.
What does this say for the world ahead?
all war, all the time
0I avoid listening to the radio if they are talking about the war. And, to be honest, I’m missing my NPR fix. It’s nothing but war anymore. I avoid the news or channels that run nothing but war. I don’t want to hear about it. I’m not interested.
I may be like an ostrich and putting my head in the sand but I really don’t want to hear about people dying…especially because my country is the aggressor in the conflict.
My distaste for military actions goes as far as avoiding military displays at amazing places. When I went to Sterling and Edinburgh castles, I avoided the armament displays. I had no interest in it whatsoever. My partner at the time was stymied, I’m sure. He didn’t understand it. I just have no tolerance for implements that are used to kill others. None. Be it cannons, guillotines, or bombers, I am just not interested.
There are so many things in this world that are incredibly beautiful and I would rather fill my senses full of them.
There is nothing like driving away from your home and seeing an entire herd of elk munching away on the grasses that are peeking up through the frost. These large, magnificent animals never fail to make me catch my breath. They never fail to make my heart beat a bit faster and force energy to course through my veins.
There cannot be a better joy than entering your office where pictures of your niece and nephew greet you. Whether they are in a sleepy repose, have a silly grin on their face or are caught off-guard, their pictures never fail to remind me of what is important in this world and to make me smile.
There are better things to talk about than war. I choose to go there.
pacifist
0Diary of a Pacifist
I know when I write this that I open myself up to flames, to anti-American comments, to those “if you don’t like it, move” comments. I’ll preface this by saying that I have lived in another country (Britain) during the bombings that went on under President Clinton.
We think that we are privy to “the truth” by living in the United States. I can tell you that truth is as arbitrary as anything else. The British media shared much different news than the American media which aired much different news than the French, Italian, or German media while I was there. You know the addage: Believe only half of what you see (read).
I rarely believe that force, violence, war, or military events are the answer to problems. I think that we rush into these processes because they are much more dramatic and really capture the ear of the people. In addition, when our governments start using propoganda to scare us into complacency, I get angry.
Yes, I’m being a bit abstract here. It’s why I’m not really writing a lot, either. I don’t want to be called names or deal with anger. There’s enough of it going on around this country. Our nation’s capital changed the name of French fries for crying outloud. How utterly silly is that?
It makes us look like fools around the world. So, we look like the aggressive big brother who is foolish.
Not a pretty sight.