Your World

"Your World" is the title of the lesson plan I created based on our class. You can (and should!) view it here.

Rick Steves: Iran, Yesterday And Today

On the whole I enjoyed this video, Rick Steves's "Iran, Yesterday And Today." It does much to discuss misconceptions about Iran and it touches on some of Iran's history. I know there was some talk in class about the frequent comparison between what Steves expects and what he finds ("Though most people think this, in reality, Iran is like this"), but I think that that commentary was done consciously and purposefully. To a person who knows nothing about Iran or its customs, a person who may have a relatively stereotypical view of Iran (of the Middle East), having those contrasts between reality and perception specifically pointed out can do some good. I think this may be Steves's way of pointing out and shedding misconceptions while offering new facts to replace the misconceptions. It sounds like something we do with students, but when you're trying to reach a mass audience and you're not able to go terribly in depth with your topic I think you need to be more explicit.

One particular issue I had arose in part 5 when Steves was discussing with his guide the differences and strife between Sunni and Shiite Muslims. At one point, Steves asks why the two groups have been fighting for so long. He asks about the Iraqi Sunnis and the Iranian Shiites and their battles. After the guide explains that those conflicts are national ones (Iraq vs. Iran) and not religious ones (Sunni vs. Shiite), implying (I think) that Sunni and Shiite are just terms reporters use (somewhat improperly) to differentiate between two groups (perhaps to imply a religious conflict that is not an issue, perhaps out of ignorance of the meaning of the words) but that news editorialization does not represent the conflict, Steves still, in his narration, compares the Sunni and Shiite "conflict" to the Protestant and Catholic conflict in the West. While the guide says that a good way to describe the issue is to look at relations between England and Ireland, Steves lends his own spin. I feel as if he wasn't really listening to the guide.

I wish Steves had been able to go more in depth, but for what it is and how long it is, I think the video is a good introduction to Iran. Additionally, we must remember while watching that, as mentioned in the beginning of the video, Steves traveled with a guide. His questions were censored, what his crew was allowed to film was censored, even where he was allowed to go was up to his guide (a government employee in charge of enforcing the provisions that allow Steves and his crew to film in Iran at all). So perhaps some of our questions or the problems we see derive from censorship and not totally from bad "reporting."

For Your Enjoyment

Information about and a poem by Forough Farrokhzad (as mentioned in the Keshavarz piece we read). More about and from (link at bottom of page) Farrokhzad. The Google search.

A selection from Rumi (a renowned and oft-taught poet).

This Website features many works by Mahmud Kianush, but poetry by others is available at the bottom of the page.

mtvU and poetry. More about Behbahani here, here, and here. Her selected works: A Cup of Sin. Some of her poems.

Two Women, Redux

Please see my post on Two Women.

In Related News...

Turkey.

Pro-government Iran.

Military as a vehicle for Orientalism in Iraq?

Religion, veiling, Iraq.

Iraqi displacement and refugees (from 2007).

Iraqi refugee camp now.

Palestine.

Israel.

Corrective (?) Lenses

I'd like to take a moment to discuss something about the literature we've been reading. We're all here trying to get an idea of other cultures through literature. But I think we're facing a little bit of a wall. I have enjoyed almost all of what we have read and watched, I think that it is all valid and useful. I am glad to have read and seen all that I have.

I do, however, sometimes feel as if we are leaving out of our conversation voices that are even more underrepresented in our culture than those we have been reading. Indeed, voices which are underrepresented in their own cultures.

For instance, we read an excerpt from Fatemeh Keshavarz's Jasmine and Stars: Reading More Than Lolita in Tehran. We should remember that Keshavarz left Iran in 1979, before the Islamic leadership and laws began. She was educated in the West, she lives and works in the United States. She claims to be an average Iranian, but seems to be upper-middle class. Even just middle class puts her far above most people.

We read Marjane Satrapi's wonderful Persepolis. While the book is engaging, well written, and only talks about Satrapi's personal experience, much of it - her formative teenage years - occurs outside of Iran. Even the end of the book tells us that she will again leave her homeland and live abroad. Today she lives in Paris, France. Persepolis makes it clear that its author was raised in a relatively privileged way. Her parents had money (they can afford to send her to a French school, send her abroad, continuously bail her out of jail, they have a maid).

We never see the perspective of the poor or of those who agree with the Islamic government in Iran.

Rooftops of Tehran, by Mahbod Seraji, is another wonderful book. It takes place in the mid 1970s, when its author was indeed living in Iran. But Seraji was educated and has lived in the United States since 1976. He has since visited Iran, but has not lived there. His memories of the culture and people are decades along.

I would like to read something written in, say, the 1980s or 1990s by someone living in Iran. Fiction or nonfiction, I think the representation would be vastly different.

Likewise, both of the books I read for Iraq were written by U.S. authors. While the books were engaging, especially for high school students, the perspective is uniquely American. Sunrise Over Fallujah discussed its protagonist's feelings on the Iraqi people (that they're really just like Americans, that all people are really mostly the same: good and bad, loving and proud). But I didn't get any perspective of real Iraqi people. Nothing to tell me first hand what life in Iraq is like, how war affects families, what dinnertime is like.

My goal here is not to lampoon the work we've done and the books we've read. It's simply to ask us all to keep searching and always remember that our perspectives are shaped by the information we choose to take in. We have discussed how we are somewhat beholden to publishers and their translation choices. Remember that people in other countries know of us what their publishers choose to translate.

Oppression In The Time Of Freedom

We've been talking a lot about oppression in the Middle East. The oppression of women in particular. I think we all need to recognize two things:

1). Men are also oppressed in countries that force religion and morals upon them.

2). We should buy ourselves a mirror.

1. We tend to assume that because laws force some women to wear oppressive clothing (literally physically oppressive clothing and figuratively oppressive), and because some laws are written that either specifically remove or purposely don't grant certain rights to women, that the men in countries with such laws take full advantage of the fact that the government gives them power over women. But these men live in a place that also dictates their behavior and their dress. Muslim countries often prohibit the consumption of alcohol by anyone. In some cases men are allowed to wear only specific types of clothing (certain ties, for example). Laws against public displays of affection (hand holding, even) certainly affect men. Laws regarding courtship impact men.

Additionally, we are sometimes blind to the fact that many men are against nonsecular governments (just as, in the West, many whites fought for the abolition of slavery and many men in the U.S. rallied for women's suffrage) that are oppressive in general and oppressive to women especially. There are a great many men who are involved in the Green Revolution, for instance. Many men, for and against their current governments, are opposed to the way women are allowed to be treated and to the way the laws make them literally worth less.

I think we acknowledge these men, but act as if they are in the vast minority, and then we are given the perception (by what our media chooses to show us, by the books publishers choose to translate, by our own decisions about whether or not to educate ourselves) that all the men who are not opposed to the government treat women like crap or abuse them or think they are stupid. But this is not true, and it's part of what Fatemeh Keshavarz was getting at.

I'm not arguing that women aren't oppressed. Sure they are. I mean to look at the conversations we have regarding that oppression. We seem to become so passionate, and often place so much blame, that we don't, in the heat of a discussion, recognize that not only are most men not the villains we talk about, but that their lives - the ones they may choose to live if they had the choice - are also altered and diminished by the types of government that rule places like Iran and Saudi Arabia.

2. Next, I think that if we're going to talk about how terrible a government is and a country is because it oppresses its citizens (in our conversations, specifically its women), then we need to look at the United States before we demonize others. I'd like to say right up front that I know a lot of you will say, "But it's so much worse there. We have laws that ensure equality and give women legal recourse for things like abuse, rape, and stalking. Aren't you really talking about degrees of oppression?" Well, maybe you'll see degrees, but oppression is oppression regardless. If we (the government of the U.S. or any other country) feel that we are in a position to tell anyone how to treat its people, then we'd better make sure we're treating ours properly, or at least acknowledging and taking steps to rectify any mistreatment.

So how are women oppressed here? Well, I think we all know that women make less money than men do. (They also often pay more for the same products and services.) Women with equal or greater education, equal experience, and an equal track record make less money than their male counterparts in the same positions (even C.E.O.s and the like). And women are statistically less likely to be promoted. Our government doesn't seem to see this as a big problem. I mean, at least we let ladies have real jobs, right? If it were to recognize this as the injustice it is, our government would still be too scared to try to somehow mandate pay guidelines to private employers. After all, many raises are merit based. How does the government know that women just don't deserve raises? Employers can't be forced to give raises or equal starting pay, can they?

It's perfectly legal for a man to walk around without a shirt on because it's hot. It is illegal for women to do so. Why is it illegal? Because women can't show their breasts (which, by the way, are not sexual organs any more than men's breasts (which can lactate) are). Because men like breasts and have sexualized them, they're considered dirty and/or capable of inciting riots. Lewd. Inappropriate. Trust me, I've seen many a bare man-boob far larger than anything I've got to show. But if the suggestion is made that women should be allowed to join men in their shirtlessness, we are faced with one of three reactions: 1) That it's indecent. 2) That it's laughable or not serious. 3) That it's a bad idea because then men'd have to look at less than desirable breasts/ladies without their shirts on (this is supposed to be humorous). Yes. Because my favorite thing to look at is fat-hairy-sweaty-guy-without-his-shirt-on. That's what laws should be based upon - prettiness. So women wear tank tops, which takes us to the ever-popular double standard.

Women wear tank tops because it's 90*F and we're not allowed to be shirtless. Men, of course, feel free to ogle us because, as is common knowledge, we wouldn't put it out there if we didn't want someone to look at it. No person has the right to ogle another, to make another feel so uncomfortable - it's as if women are expected to feel ashamed generally because they have something men want and ashamed especially when even a peek of that something comes out because it ought, rightfully, to be covered and uncovering it is a clear invitation. Let me tell you what my grandma would say (seriously): "Yeah, asshole. I'm sweating like a fat man chasing an ice cream truck, it's hotter than hell, and I thought that instead of being comfortable by covering as much of my body as possible, I'd show you my tits. Fuck off." If this ogling happened at work someone'd be guilty of sexual harassment. But in public it's okay because she clearly wants it. Yes this is a form of oppression. Society allows women to be objectified in this way because no one does anything about it. So women have to choose whether or not it's worth it to be less hot, choose whether they're going to fight today or just look the other way. No, we don't cover our women up by law, but we certainly let them know how we feel about their being uncovered.

The opposite? Well, if a woman wears baggy clothes or a large sweater, it is, of course, so that men will wonder what's under there.

And if a woman chooses to wear anything remotely revealing, she'd better not pick that day to get raped, because you can be sure it'll be pointed out that she clearly wanted it. Showing herself in tight jeans like that, enticing the men - her rapist couldn't be expected to help himself. Plus, it's not like she's a virgin or anything. She just regrets it and is whining now. It's not his fault. Doesn't this sound insane??? Doesn't it sound like Hassan in Two Women? Yet this defense is used in court cases. We want to take away women's power, especially their power to express themselves sexually, but then we project power over men on to them in order to excuse the bad (often illegal) behavior of men.

A real, current example of women's sexuality being used against them? Turn on the news and try your hardest not to hear about Tiger Woods. Rather, try not to hear about "his women." News casters love to talk about how they're all "busty" or blonde or seem dense. They insinuate, and watchers write in and say outright, that these women are homewreckers and sluts. Alright, you shouldn't sleep with a married guy. But HE is the married one. Tiger Woods's marriage is his responsibility. And slutty? TIGER is the one that slept with his wife plus at least 12 other women. But men and women want to talk about the morals of the mistresses and how dirty they are. Seriously? If anyone in this scenario is likely to give you the clap, it seems to me like it's probably Mr. Woods.

Think, for a moment, about the names we call opinionated (especially if they're smart) or aggressive women. Both positive characteristics in men, many try to shut women up by attempting to make them feel as if they are less. Less smart, less important. Just plain silly; annoying for expressing themselves.

We're often surprised at what women do. Surprised because we didn't think women could do that. Because women aren't strong enough or don't have enough determination. Or because they have children. I'm certain we all know women who are in a race to begin their careers because they want to be able to have kids and they don't want to have them too late in life, but if they have them too early it'll ruin their careers. How often do we hear men complain of this? I know what you're going to say, "Virginia, having a baby and taking care of it, even if it interferes with work, is a choice." And I agree. I just don't understand why women are uncaring, bad mothers if they don't leave work for a sick kid or if they work more than the standard work week and men who don't leave work and who work late or have meetings after hours are just providing for the family. They never worry about ruined careers because they don't have to leave or call in or skip a meeting so that they can be called by others a "good parent."

We scoff at women's professional sports (because how can they ever be as good?). Anyone who's ever watched WWF or WWE type shows can tell you that the men beat the crap out of each other while the women barely wear clothes, "wrestle," and sometimes meet the fate (oh, no!) of a water gun/hose. Yes, the men are scantily clad also (I imagine so that clothes don't become a hazard), but the women wear fantasy outfits and have their dirty, inappropriate breasts largely uncovered.

Any person who speaks out about these things is mocked (or at least not taken seriously). People say, "Oh, what are you some kind of feminist? I don't want to hear that man-hater crap." Yeah, no one wanted to hear it in the 1920s when women were arrested, went on hunger strike, were force fed raw eggs, and suffered life altering medical complications or death, either. No one wanted to hear it in the 1960s or '70s when women tried to get equal rights under the law, when they spoke out about the thousands of women killed by coat hangers. Since when is "feminist" a dirty word? Demanding equal pay, rights, and protection is not "man-hating." Every self respecting woman is a feminist.

So what we need is to recognize that we are not without fault of our own. Maybe the oppression in the U.S. seems less bad and therefore less worthy of attention to some. But I spent 10 years convincing doctors and insurance companies to perform a surgery for me. One that any 18 year old man can get in one or two doctor visits (I say this without reservation because I know several men who had it performed when they were aged between 18 and 24). But I'm a woman. My pain, my missing class and work, my hospital visits, the fact that years of injections and treatments didn't work, was of little consequence. Because I'm a woman and I might change my pretty little mind one day. This, too, is wrong. But the government and society would side with the doctors and insurance companies. This is discrimination near par with countries wherein women have no rights over their own bodies, where they need a man's permission.

Do I think all men believe that "she is/was asking for it" crap? No. Do I think all men feel that women need to be the only ones to sacrifice for the children? No. Do I think all men secretly hate women and are glad that they have a disproportionately low amount of power and pay? No. Just like not all Middle Eastern men want to see the women they share their lives with oppressed. We still have societal and institutional oppression in the West against women. And against pretty much all non whites (and some foreign whites, if we're being really honest).

The Complete Persepolis

Given everyone else's feelings, it seems a bit redundant to say this, but I loved reading Marjane Satrapi's The Complete Persepolis.

The graphic novel does a wonderful job illustrating (literally and figuratively) the complexities of Iran throughout its history. While the story centers on events just before to just after the revolution, it takes into account and addresses other parts of Iran's history, parts that led the country to have certain relationships with certain countries, parts that defined how Iranians felt about their own country and its leadership. It also showcases primarily positive characters, both female and male. Those who are "villains," enforcers of the rules of the new government, or are disrespectful are only bit characters that come and go, serving as reminders to the reader that it is an outside force which compels the strife of Persepolis's characters. Additionally, readers are presented with a picture of how the new, religion-based laws have a negative affect on both men and women.

This coming of age novel is well written and beautifully illustrated. Teachers can rest assured that the novel's illustrations lend themselves to a critical reading and understanding of the novel. At times expository, joyful, and beyond sad, Persepolis is always engaging and honest. The book shows the best and worst in its author (the protagonist in this memoir-ish novel) and always the best in those closest to her, her family.

We get to see what war does to a family - any family, anywhere in the world.

Persepolis gets at hypocrisy by directing a critical eye toward those secular characters who embraced (or seemingly did so) Muslim rule of law. It examines and makes clear, so importantly, that Iran needed a revolution, but the one it got was not what many had hoped for. Before the revolution, the shah had people investigated, imprisoned, tortured, and murdered by his (not so) secret police, the SAVAK. He was brutal. Iranian people were united in their desire for a revolution. But the revolution that occurred brought with it new problems and new oppressions and losses of freedom. An important part of the book is reconciling what the desired post-revolutionary government was with what the implemented government was.

The Complete Persepolis is definitely suitable for secondary classrooms (9th - 12th grades; the first half of the book, sold as Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood, perhaps for middle schoolers). It can be used as a study of oppression in conjunction with other books, it can be used as part of a unit on Middle Eastern studies, it can be used alone to explore a genre or as a platform to discuss many current issues.

You can watch the movie here.

A Mouthful

Reading chapter 2 ("The Eternal Fourough: The Voice of Our Earthly Rebellion") of Fatemeh Keshavarz's Jasmine and Stars: Reading More Than Lolita in Tehran left me with a lot to think about, namely how she gets at her main purpose, which is that women aren't as oppressed in the Middle East as Western society and media would have everyone believe.

To be fair, we should establish that Keshavarz left Iran in September of 1979, before the revolution really took hold and she was forced to obey religious laws regardless of whether or not she believed in them.

Some of the first proof she offers of the openness of Iranian life (and its lack of governmental oppression in general) is that translations of Western novels aren't impossible to find in Iran. Keshavarz tells her readers how, in 1986 in (war-torn) Iran, she was able to find an already translated copy of Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, which she had just read in the U.S.. The novel was first published in Italian in 1980 and published in English in 1983. "The presence," Keshavarz writes, "of such translations in Iranian bookstores is testimony to the openness of the readers and their interest in the world. This is a trait that the New Orientalist vision of the Middle East does not acknowledge. In fact, RLT's depiction of Iran portrays a culture unreceptive to books by Western authors. . . . Censorship of all kinds is undesirable. But there is a difference between banning all Western books and banning the story of the seduction of the underaged Lolita" (37). We should examine, here, that The Name of the Rose is a murder mystery set in a 14th century Italian monastery. When Keshavarz talks about Iranians being receptive to books by Western authors, she makes an unfair comparison: a relatively benign story versus one she readily admits contains more controversial material. Then, not all books are banned, so it's less bad than if they all were. Banning Lolita is for the good of the people because it is arguably crude or shocking (a contention with which many in the United States would agree). But it is difficult to argue a people's receptivity to world literature when you also contend that maybe it's not so bad to ban a book, especially if its subject matter is something that maybe people shouldn't be interested in.

Later, Keshavarz talks about how she interviewed an old man who had memorized the entire collection of Parvin Etesami's poetry. When she first saw the old man, toothless and in "peasant clothing" (43), Keshavarz assumed she was about to waste a couple of hours on an interview that would prove to be useless. Keshavarz found, however, that the old, illiterate man was very intelligent and articulate. It is here that Keshavarz begins to get at something - something about preconceived notions and altering them. She relates this anecdote to what she views as the West's idea that anyone (any country) poor (especially illiterate) is considered to be ignorant and stupid, fundamentalist. Any culture or government outside of one like the West has is a failure in and of itself. Sadly, many in the West believe this to be true - that more "traditional" cultures are backward and wrong and need to be helped along. But this doesn't get at oppression as viewed by those experiencing it.

Keshavarz talks about the media's portrayal of Middle Easterners, especially women, and how those portrayals are often false or exaggerated. I think she's right, but I think her main downfall is that she fails to give readers and consumers any credit for their critical thinking capabilities. I understand Keshavarz's desire to defend her homeland, but she continually skirts the issues surrounding the actual oppression that does take place.

Keshavarz writes about how texts such as Reading Lolita in Tehran, those that discuss sexual abuse in the Middle East, are unfair because they "often associate these corruptions with the local religion, Islam. RLT places these incidents consistently in the familiar context of the savage, overly sexual and duplicitous Oriental who in public projects an image of purity and piety" (50). We in the West, however, have experience separating isolated incidents (a bunch of priests molested a large number of young people) from the need to vilify an entire group (not all priests are molesters/rapists). Keshavarz is right, though. It can be difficult to dissociate Iranian child molesters/rapists from practitioners of Islam in that country because Islam is the national religion. Keshavarz writes, "The reader, predisposed to accept the stereotype of the Muslim male as a sexual oppressor, is unlikely to question the relevance of this individual crime to the overall bankruptcy attributed to Muslim morality. This abusive incident will be just an added 'proof' to what the reader already 'knows'" (50). Again, though, she does not give people enough credit. We are (I sincerely hope) intelligent enough to realize that just because one Muslim man raped someone does not mean that all Muslim men are rapists.

Keshavarz also contends that "women would like to reform electoral law and various other legal codes in Iran to get better representation, and, yes, they are still involved in various struggles to improve their lot" (52), but she never gives specific examples of the laws and reforms of which she speaks. I think some of what Keshavarz refers to can be found in Iran's constitution, some laws which pertain specifically to women (although some affect both sexes), and some explanations of penal codes.

On the whole I agree with Keshavarz that the Western notion of the situation of women in Iran, in the Middle East in general, is sensationalized. Women enjoy a great number of freedoms, Iranians and Muslims don't lock women up and treat them as worthless slaves. The Iranian constitution talks at length about peace and respect and protection. I agree with many of Keshavarz's contentions and appreciate her point of view. But I have to ask her to give people enough credit to differentiate themselves from the (outspoken) minority that takes sensationalist notions at face value and thinks that women are given no respect or regard in the Middle East. And I have to ask her to acknowledge that just because women have freedoms does not mean that they don't suffer. Indeed, both men and women suffer under a government that forces them to live by a religious code to which they may not subscribe. Many women choose to be veiled, but for those who are forced to wear the veil, it acts as a physical reminder of oppression. It's not that women are frequently burned with acid or beaten, it's that the law provides them with no recourse if these things do happen. It's that women are legally worth half of what men are worth. It's that children can't be tried for crimes. Girls stop being children at 9, boys at 14.

The White Castle

For Turkish literature I read The White Castle by Orhan Pamuk. Sadly, I wouldn't recommend this book. I didn't like reading it very much and I don't think I "get it." 

I was really sad to miss class last Thursday, first because I don't like missing class, second because I was sick as hell and wanted not to be, and third because I really wanted to talk to other people about this book. Your blogs helped a little, primarily Ashley's and Lisa's, but I still don't know what I think.

Perhaps I have what Marie calls "reader fatigue," but I thought reading this novel was annoying. The prose's absolute drudgery made it a slow read (which I can only hope was a device so the reader can share the main characters' long, drawn out experience), it was depressing (all that drama and animosity between the two main characters, neither of whom is a particularly good or interesting person), and the story line didn't seem to really go anywhere. 

I kept trying to make something of the novel. Maybe it was about the duality of man (I half expected the reveal to be that the two men were one). Maybe about social class. Maybe about ethnicity (East vs. West) and progress. Maybe about religion and progress. Maybe about colonization and superiority (E vs. W again).

I recognized many smaller pieces - symbols, the idea of identity, of reliance, of blame. But I was unable to stitch the pieces together into a coherent, overarching point.

In the end, I felt like I had just read Melville's "Bartleby, The Scrivner." I don't get it, I'm not going to reread it, and I'll never get that time back. Only Melville's story is better written and far shorter. At the very least, "I'd prefer not to" goes over well with lit. professors and has gotten me out of reading crappy "write a poem about Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez in five minutes, then we'll share with the class" activities in front of the class. (This is my way of ending on a good note.)

The Bus Driver Who Wanted To Be God

Like almost everyone else in class, I really liked Etgar Keret's The Bus Driver Who Wanted to be God. At first I thought some of the stories didn't really have too much of a point, but after going back and looking again, I was pretty satisfied that they mostly all do. Mostly. As Carly says, though, I don't know how much some of the stories tell us about Israeli culture.

Since nearly everyone blogged about this book, I'm going to

try to keep this post short. I loved "A Souvenir of Hell," "Uterus" (to which I have a somewhat personal connection, believe it or not (the story, not the organ)), and "Breaking the Pig," which I thought was hilarious and ironic. That row of three was a great run for me. I'm also a big fan of "The Flying Santinis," which says, to me, a lot about striving for perfection and God's understanding nature.

While I was really disappointed to hear my classmates' bad reviews of Wristcutters: A Love Story, I think I may give it a chance, especially since Will Arnett is in it. I don't expect to particularly enjoy it after having read "Kneller's Happy Campers," but I'd like to see it just the same.

Off topic, I came across an old clip of Will Arnett hosting one of MTV's spring break things. He introduced Arrested Development. (If you don't know, Arnett went on, years later, to star in the fantastic series "Arrested Development.")

Carefully chosen, some of these stories could be great to use in secondary or early college classrooms. Some just provide thought and discussion provoking material ("Breaking the Pig," "Cocked and Locked" if you can deal with the language) (though the teacher may have to pull some ideas out and prompt students or give them questions/ideas to think about while reading), while others provide a specifically (or more powerful because it's) Israeli (or Jewish) perspective, such as "Shoes." The stories would also be great models for a creative writing classroom. Keret provides much to discuss in the way of style and voice. His quiet, absurd, and sometimes seemingly inappropriate humor can be a great perspective for young authors unfamiliar with that sort of thing (his writing reminds me David Sedaris's in this way).

Time of Favor/Paradise Now

  I took an assload (it's O.K., I have an English degree) of notes on Time of Favor. In fact, now that I'm going over them, I wish I had written my essay about the movie. I just find that there's so much to talk about. Especially comparatively. In many of the movies we've watched lately, rationality comes from outside the main group, from questioning. It comes from characters like Suha, Korvis, and Mookie (among others, of course, like Michal, but these illustrate my point). And in Time of Favor especially, questioning and doubt are huge themes.

But I won't talk about that or the 10 other themes I took notes on and for which I wrote down quotes. I want to talk about the suicide bombing in Time of Favor compared to the suicide bombing in Paradise Now.

To be perfectly straightforward, I'm not sure I'd classify Pini's action in Time of Favor as a suicide bombing. Yes, he was going to blow stuff up; yes, he would've died during the commission of that crime, but I think he used the suicide bombing as a cover for just plain ol' suicide.

In Paradise Now, Said and Khaled chose  to become suicide bombers for a variety of reasons. They believed in martyrdom, they believed it was the only way to fight the Israelis, they each wanted to atone for the sins of their fathers. And they were, to a degree at least, manipulated by Jamal and Abu-Karem. In Time of Favor, the idea of fighting for Israel, of being a lion and not a dog (see Philip's blog) is first presented by Rabbi Meltzer. But Pini takes this idea and twists it until it is not only far from what the rabbi presented, but until it no longer has any real tie to faith. Pini uses this idea to lie to and manipulate his friend Itamar because he knows Itamar will go along with "the rabbi's plan."

Where Said and Khaled are ashamed of their fathers and want to make up for their shortcomings, Pini is ashamed of himself because Michal does not want him. He wants to hide from his shame. Said and Khaled think they will find martyrdom and glory, but want to bomb because they see it as a way to fight for Palestine, for thousands of dead and displaced civilians. They see it as a way to fight against an enemy with better training, more money, better weapons, and who is seen by many as the conflict's hero. But Pini manipulates Itamar so that blame for the bombing will be placed on Menachem, so that Menachem will be shamed. Pini tells only Michal of his plan (the bombing, not the additionally shameful manipulation of Itamar) because he thinks she will be proud of him for displaying his "lion-like qualities," for "defending his religion." Then he kills Itamar (presumably so that Pini's secret manipulation dies with Itamar). Pini is using the guise of a faithful suicide bombing to cover his desire to commit the sin of suicide. Through this act, he wishes to gain the admiration of the woman who did not love him, place blame for murder on Menachem, the man Michal loved, and commit suicide to hide from his personal shame (or inability to deal with rejection of the beloved rabbi's daughter and possibly, as a result, the rabbi). To this end, he manipulates, connives, and murders.

While I recognize that suicide bombing (any bombing, really) is neither good nor glorious, the mindset of the characters in Paradise Now present it as a path to atonement, martyrdom, and service to the country. In Time of Favor, Pini uses these ideals to try to cover up his shortcomings so he can kill himself and try to pretend he did so for a cause.

While I don't doubt that Pini is devout and dedicated to the Jewish faith, I don't think a full argument can be made that makes religion his primary motive in his action. He wants revenge, pity, and admiration - glory. That he got the idea from Rabbi Meltzer's sermon is secondary here (when discussing Pini - the rabbi's a whole other topic). I don't see how Pini is motivated to the act by religion or devotion, only that he uses that idea to manipulate Itamar and try to manipulate Michal.

Each of these movies is great on its own, each is rich in commentary and symbolism, each can be written about at length. But together, they could provide secondary students a strong starting point for conversations or essays, for critical thinking about difficult and touchy topics.

Beaufort

I'd like to begin by saying, because it's totally out of context with the rest of this post, that I'm pretty sure that in one of the last scenes in the barracks, when they're making sure everything's all wired to blow, there's a small (4-inches by 6-inches or so, maybe even a sticker) U.S. flag taped to the wall bordering one of the beds. Make of it what you will. Remember that Israel gets U.S. funding, but in the movie Hezbollah is using U.S. manufactured weapons.

Now, what I liked about this movie was that it had a sense of humor. A relatively sarcastic sense of humor, which I especially enjoy. For example, at the beginning, Ziv gets up at night to go find Liraz (Liraz wants to talk to Ziv) and gets all turned around. Ziv stumbles upon two soldiers guarding what I think is "Green," where everyone later gets killed. (Forgive me, I didn't write down which two soldiers he meets here.) The three then have a conversation about what a good time they're having at Beaufort and joke about what the relationship between the two guards may be. There's kind of a couched humor throughout, but I appreciate it.

Liraz is an interesting character, but I think Korvis, his foil (if that term is applicable to film), is far more interesting. Korvis, always smoking, is outraged when Ziv dies. He is emotional but strong and logical. When Zitlawi is injured and Korvis is trying to save him, Oshri tries to come join them but is shot. Liraz freezes, he can't help his soldier. Korvis has to leave Zitlawi, run out into shelling and gunfire, and carry Oshri in to save him. Near the movie's end, when the castle is wired to be blown and command tells Liraz that he and his troops must remain another dangerous night at Beaufort, Liraz refuses to stand up for his soldiers. Korvis says to Liraz of his inaction: "I deserve a commander who can [demand to leave]. We all do. Ziv, Zitlawi, shpitzor, Oshri. They deserved a better commander than you." And when they finally blow the castle up and move out, Korvis's first action is to call his mom. Seriously. Respect.

A Lake Beyond The Wind, by Yahya Yakhlif

I felt like the odd man out with this book. Several people in our group enjoyed it, but I really liked it. Granted, a little was lost in translation, but that's to be expected.

I found the characters and imagery rich and full and much of the prose was just beautiful. One of the problems some people had was that sometimes, although the narrator changed, the voice did not. The book has two narrators: the nameless, omniscient speaker, and Abd al-Rahman the Iraqi. (Some will argue that, and the book is billed as if, one chapter is narrated by Wolf, the dog. Well, one chapter follows Wolf around and relates what he sees and thinks, but the speaker is the omniscient narrator, not Wolf. If nothing else, the pronoun "he" (referring to the dog) gives this away.)

But back to voice. I concede that the difference in voice between narrators is somewhat diminished by lack of colloquialism and slang (one narrator is Iraqi, the other presumably Palestinian) and translation probably muted some sentence structure. But I found al-Rahman's narration to be somewhat richer, thus identifiable. For instance:

I emerged from the furnace of the desert. From between the grains of sand. The winds surrendered me to the winds, and the frost nipped my nose and the tips of my fingers.

I'd ridden in a hired car from Baghdad to the al-Habbaniyyeh crossroads. Then, for countless numbers of hours, I'd walked. No luggage and no passport. Still I'd walked, avoiding the police patrols. I was thirsty. The desert, heavy with the iciness of January, spat me out. (53)

I read this passage with the tone of voice and flow I would use to read poetry. I love the variety of sentence length and structure. I love the staccato effect at which some of the sentences hint (which is further developed and used to move the story along in the novel). I love the images.

Additionally, only al-Rahman's narration (which is first person) contains within it stories told by others from a first person perspective. Narrative within narrative within narrative.

I was also struck by the fact that (and probably biased by) animals are often used to show the character of A Lake Beyond The Wind's inhabitants. Now, animal imagery and symbolism (especially birds - they're everywhere) abounds in this book. But there are specific instances where Yakhlif explicitly connects kindness to and respect for animals to the fact that a character is a good person. No other explanation is offered. That a person has reverence for animals is enough, in this book, to prove his (and her) good nature.

At any rate, I really enjoyed this book not just for its historical perspective, but for its richness, for its full, relatable characters. I'd read it again. But I don't know if I'd use it with 9th or 10th graders. Honestly, I think there'd need to be some reading aloud and lots of discussion to make sure the the prose remained viable for younger students. It certainly offers fodder for A.P. papers (symbolism, voice) and for any study of colonialism, the Palestine/Israel situation, general discussions of war.

Justice Richard Goldstone

Bill Moyers's interview with Justice Richard Goldstone.

The video (part I) is just over 21 minutes long. It's a two parter, and part II is available by link at the top of the page and by link just below part I.

At the beginning of the video, when Moyers is talking about all the things Goldstone has done, I thought of Etgar Keret's story "Good Intentions." I don't know any more about Justice Goldstone than is presented in the interview, but just the notion of a person spending all those years trying to find a way to even come remotely close to finding justice for such a number of atrocities makes me wonder how much weight he feels.

This is really a great interview. If you've got the time you should at least watch part of the interview.

The Goldstone Report

From Palestine News Network (the article is longish, but worth your time).

The Goldstone Report (it's 575 pages long).

A pro-Israeli response (also worth the read). A few of the arguments are made without proof or with flawed logic. One refers to the HRC Resolution and indicates that conclusions regarding crimes against humanity had already been made before Goldstone's information gathering mission even took place. This is a correct contention, but the Resolution talks about crimes going all the way back to 1967, ones that had already been documented; it calls for further investigation and a recommendation on how to handle the present issues. The site also questions the validity of having the crimes investigated by both Israelis and Palestinians. "How can Goldstone imply that Hamas or the Palestinian Authority operates a legal system that comes close to anything resembling that of a western democracy," the site asks. As if any other legal system is incapable of determining whether or not a crime has been committed.

Leaflets the above site mentions.

A Palestinian view about the leaflets and general situation they address.

Another perspective.

Power(less) Struggle

David Newman and Ghazi Falah's article "Bridging the Gap: Palestinian and Israeli discourses on autonomy and statehood" left me feeling irritated. I really have a lot to say, but promise to keep this post short.

First, the sheer number of interpretations of the concepts of autonomy and self determination (or the way groups will twist these words to suit their own needs) astounds me.

Second (and this is nearly word for word the comment I left on Ashley H.'s blog), It seems to me that Israel only ever acknowledged Palestine in human terms (instead of as a "refugee problem") as a result of external pressures. The article made me feel like Israel doesn't really want to deal with the Palestinians, considers them vastly inferior, and wants to get rid of the "problem" as long as it doesn't involve giving Palestine any power. (Including trying to "give them to" Jordan.) This reminds me vaguely of some other major historical events, ones a little geographically closer to home. What might they be... Hmm...

Rooftops of Tehran

Rooftops of Tehran by Mahbod Seraji is turning out to be a pretty good read. I haven't quite finished the book yet, but thought I'd do a quick post about it. 

The novel is very engaging and the prose is rich; Seraji makes complex characters witty and fun. He tackles large and intricate concepts while managing to keep the reader flowing from page to page.

The main characters are  primarily 17-20 year-olds and Seraji writes them as such. They're funny. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes as a result of adolescence.

I don't want to talk too much about the book because Marie and I think you'll probably read some of it and we're not sure which parts yet, but here's the basic breakdown:

Characters

Pasha (main character, narrator)

Ahmed (Pasha's best friend)

Doctor (Pasha's mentor)

Faheemeh (Ahmed's girlfriend)

Zari (Doctor's fiancee, Pasha's secret love)

Setting

Tehran, 1973 (action)

Tehran, 1974 (vignettes of the near future interspersed throughout)

Some background on the Iranian government of the time is definitely helpful (read: important), but we'll get there later.

Paradise Now

Paradise Now was excellent. It was co-written and directed by Hany Abu-Assad (right in above picture) and co-written and produced by Bero Beyer (left). Abu-Assad was born in Nazareth, Israel, in 1961 and moved to the Netherlands (which is, I presume where he met Beyer) in 1980. Although he was born in Israel, all the information I found on him refers to him as a Palestinian. In this interview he seems particularly sympathetic to Palestine. Perhaps he is a Palestinian born in Israel. I found no biographical information on Beyer except that he is Dutch and has produced a couple movies.

I'm sure we were all struck by the humanization of Said and Khaled (the protagonists). It is truly rare (at least in the United States) to be given the opportunity to view a suicide bomber as a real person.

Paradise Now does not exist to justify suicide bombings, but rather to illustrate how it is that one chooses to become a suicide bomber (or just a bomber, or a terrorist in general). I've always found suicide bombings particularly interesting because they're not just about killing the other person. If that were the case there'd just be bombs, no suicide. But martyrdom is an important part of the action. Showing that you believe so much in something that you'll give your life for it and for the good of your people.

We begin to see why Said and Khaled feel that they will be martyrs while they are filming their goodbye videos. While we can recognize suicide bombing as something that's not O.K., these men make their cases seem almost rational. We can at least sympathize with them, with their need to try to make right what they feel is so wrong.

Khaled says that Palestine has tried other means of getting through to Israel, political and peaceful means. He says that he can no longer accept being treated as if Palestinians are inferior, can no longer accept ethnic cleansing, occupation, unfairness, lack of compromise. This unimaginable act is his way of fighting for his country. Khaled asks Jamal to protect his family from retribution by the Israelis.

In his video, Said says, "Our bodies are all we have left to fight with." A statement that is at once dreadful, determined, and ineffably sad.

Later, Suha, who is also exceptionally rational, tries to talk Khaled out of his "mission." She points out that these actions give the Israelis all the justification they need not to stop what they are doing. But what really gets to Khaled, I think, is when she says, "If you kill, there's no difference between victim and occupier." He is forced to see himself as the enemy.

Said, trying to reaffirm his commitment, is again the model of downtrodden determination and elicitor of sympathy. "And the world watches," he says, "cowardly, unjustly. . . . [The Israelis have] convinced the world and themselves that they are the victims. . . . How," he asks, "can the occupier be the victim?" Suha has answered this riddle.

Powerful in its raw emotion and near constant intensity, the film presents the perfect persuasion. Even if you don't agree with the act, you feel for the person.

This film could be beneficial in classrooms for a number of reasons. Most obviously, it touches deeply on current events. But it can lead teachers and students to discussions about right and wrong in any number of areas. (How do we determine what is just? Was dropping the atom bomb just? Was it just for George to kill Lennie? Is the U.S.'s current involvement with Iraq and Afghanistan just? Are there degrees of justness?) Also, the way in which each main character presents his (and her) case can be used to facilitate discussions of writing persuasively. Each side of the "to bomb or not to bomb" argument is presented clearly and rationally. While the film's authors acknowledge their bias against Israel, they never indicate that they think Israelis should be killed, especially innocent citizens. The arguments both for and against the suicide bombings are well thought out and logical. Students will see that a writer needn't agree with a point of view to present it respectfully.

And for all the film's talk of violence, we never - not even once, not even when Said carries out his bombing - see any violence.

"With Guns In Their Hands And God On Their Side"

Sunrise Over Fallujah is Walter Dean Myers's 88th publication of 91 (one of which is a 12 book series, so that's really 102 publications). To see the entire list, use the link above, go to the "Bibliography" section, and click on the link on the bottom of that page. It's really impressive. 

The video at the end of this post gives a great overview of the book, so I won't go too much into that. Sunrise Over Fallujah is well written and portrays a young soldier's coming of age in the current Iraq war very well. This is specifically an adolescent/young adult novel, so there's no profanity (maybe one damn or hell, but I don't remember that even being present), but Myers does a great job describing the war. 

Robin, the protagonist, encounters battle, and Myers describes piles of body bags, soldiers killing and being killed, soldiers being dismembered, even attempted rape. He does this all in a way that provides a pretty clear picture for adolescents, but not in such a graphic way that it will cause any real controversy ("you can't let students read this"). It is a tasteful and toned-down-yet-realistic picture of what soldiers encounter.

Through Robin, Myers brings to light issues young people, those most likely to be enlisting in the near future, may not have considered. Certainly issues that aren't often discussed with adolescents, especially by recruiters. 

We get a mostly balanced picture of the situation (the initial invasion of Iraq at the start of the current war). Robin is dedicated to his country and his job, but he is conflicted because he now sees that war isn't as cut and dry as he imagined. It's difficult to tell the good guys from the bad guys. He wants to feel safe and protect his fellow soldiers, but really doesn't want to kill anyone. He is often scared and sometimes cries. He doesn't always understand the U.S.'s policies or logic.

Even the soldiers are presented diversely. Robin serves with women, blacks, whites, hispanics, young people, older people. And while the U.S. soldiers are primarily presented in a positive light, those who condemn all Iraqis are disliked by other soldiers. Those who seem to enjoy war are, through tone and imagery, presented in a somewhat negative light.

I could easily write much more about Sunrise Over Fallujah and pull out tons of quotes, but I won't. The book gives adolescents an idea of the plight of Iraqi citizens, talks about the myriad tribes and factions present there, the local violence, lack of hospitals and drinking water. It shows how the soldiers help the people and how the invasion has brought strife to the area. It would be a great book to use in a literature class, in a current events class, in a social studies class. It is appropriate for high schoolers and beginning college students, but could surely be explicated by professionals.

If the embedded video won't work, click here.

Pride of Baghdad

For this week's (and next week's) presentation on Iraq, I've read Pride of Baghdad by Brian K. Vaughan.

This book is a beautifully illustrated graphic novel that you'll find in the adult section of the library. There's definitely some no-holds-barred violence (not just war, personal violence) and even sexual violence in the book. The novel itself is based on the true story of four lions who "escaped" the Baghdad Zoo (escaped death) during the Invasion (that's right, capital I, for the lions).

As the story progressed, I began to view each character as representative of the mindsets of people from specific moments in time.

Noor: the young lioness who craves freedom and is trying to strike a deal with the monkeys and the antelope to gain that freedom. She is suspicious of humans and sees herself as a prisoner. She has no real memory of freedom for comparison.

Safa: the old, partially blind lioness who remembers freedom as a time of violence. For her, the safety of the zoo and the fact that meals are provided outweigh a desire to run free.

Zill: the alpha male. He seems young, Noor's age. He barely remembers freedom, and while he longs to have it back, he doesn't hate the zoo. I don't see him as a terribly strong character, but he does "prove himself."

Ali: Noor's young cub. He was born in the zoo and is in awe of what is going on around him. He has a special affinity for Safa. Ali doesn't really understand the difference between free and not free.

I wish I had more background on the area to round out and provide more context for the way I view the characters (especially Safa's violent history and Noor's strong feeling of imprisonment (which I feel must allude to something more than that she's a lion in a zoo)).

The destruction of the zoo is both liberating and confusing for the lions. Safa would rather stay in the ruins than leave with the other three. Interestingly, when the four step outside the boundary of the zoo (yes, Safa leaves the bombed-out zoo) they are surprised to see that they'd been lied to. The zoo keepers had always said it was just desert for miles and miles, but the lions find a forest beyond the zoo's gates. I see this reflection in our perception of Iraq. We talk about the war being fought in a desert ("the sandbox") and see pictures of dirt roads and dust-covered bodies. Do we allow ourselves to have keepers?

Ali and Safa meet a turtle (my favorite character), who tries to explain to them what has happened. In doing so, he reminds us of Desert Storm and of oil. But the lions don't get it and the crabby turtle can't explain.

While I think the middle part of the book calls in some gender roles (perhaps unintentionally), it's the end that I find most telling. No, I won't ruin it (although that may happen in class). I just find the soldier's statement so open ended. Was he lying or delusional?

Two Women

Marie and I both watched Two Women for our upcoming presentation on Iran. I'll be viewing another video as well, but I watched this movie so Marie and I could discuss it and because I thought it looked good and because we think some of you may watch it!

Two Women was released in 1998 and was written and directed by Tahmineh Milani, who is also responsible for several other films. The movie takes place in the late 1970s and 1980s (a 13 year span is covered).

Two Women has several important characters:

1). Fereshteh (main character)

2). Roya

3). Hassan

4). Fereshteh's uncle and male cousin

5). Fereshteh's father

6). Ahmad (Fereshteh's husband)

7). Roya's husband

At the film's outset we see Roya, a woman who owns an architecture firm with her husband. Roya is confident and has the respect of her workers. Her relationship with her husband is shown to be one of mutual respect, one that represents a partnership in life.

We then flash back to Roya's university days in Tehran. She meets a classmate named Fereshteh, who is very smart and tutors Roya. The two women become very good friends. While both women are independent (think for themselves, live alone, attend university, come and go as they please), we begin to see Fereshteh as the more bold of the friends. When something dangerous happens at the university she wants to stop and see what it is. When she is confronted by Hassan, her stalker, she goes up to him and yells at him even though she is scared and knows he is dangerous. She refuses to stay in her apartment and hide from Hassan.

This is where Milani's portrayal of men begins to play a larger role. Hassan follows Fereshteh everywhere she goes and gets on the bus with her multiple times. In Tehran, when Fereshteh and Roya (who are on the bus together) tell the driver they are being harassed, the driver and other men help them. The driver throws Hassan off the bus, calls him names, and tells him to leave the girls alone. As Fereshteh looks out the window, she sees Hassan holding a knife and looking at her. Hassan's terrorization of Fereshteh continues in Tehran until he disfigures her male cousin with acid. (See Marie's post for more details.)

In the hospital (after the acid), Fereshteh's uncle and father (brothers) are both present. Fereshteh's father blames her and says that she has dishonored her family. Fereshteh's uncle tries to tell his brother that it is not Fereshteh's fault and that she needs help and comfort. This exchange highlights how two different regions in Iran may be predisposed to thinking of women. These two brothers, presumably raised together, have different views. Fereshteh's uncle, living in Tehran, allows his son to be tutored by a woman and understands, even through his grief, that she is not to blame for the tragedy that befell his son. Fereshteh's father, who still lives in a small town, blames his daughter as if she threw the acid herself, he feels that she is directly responsible for this, that she has dishonored and embarrassed her family, and that she has had too much freedom and must come home.

Back home, Fereshteh is sad but feels safe. Until she uses a public phone and sees Hassan watching her. She gets in her car and a chase ensues in which a little boy dies. Fereshteh's father is again upset and blames her. At the trial, Hassan blames Fereshteh for everything he's being charged with (stalking, acid throwing, killing the little boy). He says it's all her fault because she didn't love him and she made him feel foolish for being in love with her, that he still loves her (you didn't miss anything, these two never date, he just sees her and wants her) and that she mocks him by denying him. He is sentenced to 13 years in prison. He says, as he being hauled away, that he'll find Fereshteh.

Fereshteh, too was on trial. A man named Ahmad paid her expenses in exchange for her hand in marriage (for more details see Marie's post on this). Though her family tried to guilt her into marriage, though she felt she owed Ahmad, Fereshteh chose to marry Ahmad. No one forced her to do so.

After their marriage, we see Ahmad become controlling and jealous of Fereshteh. He won't let anyone see her, he locks up the phone, he forbids her to leave the house, he will not allow her to go back to university. Fereshteh tries to deal with this at first, tries to reason with Ahmad. But the treatment escalates to the point that Fereshteh's father even gets upset with Ahmad, telling him "I gave you a wife, not a slave."

This is the beginning of the real development of Fereshteh's father. He is seeing first hand the psychological ramifications this marriage is having on his daughter. He is beginning to understand that there are things occurring around Fereshteh for which she is not responsible.
Fereshteh convinces her father to help her get a divorce, which is not granted. That he even agreed, though, shows monumental growth on the part of Fereshteh's father.

Years later, when Hassan gets out of prison, he finds Fereshteh. When she is fleeing Ahmad, Hassan catches up with her and she begs for death. Ahmad catches up to Fereshteh and tries to stop Hassan, then Hassan stabs Ahmad.

We are then brought back to a scene with Roya and her husband. Again, we see the loving, respectful couple. When Fereshteh questions how she'll live if Ahmad dies, it is Roya's husband who tells her "you'll live."

These male characters are all representations of stereotypes and of the progression of women's lives in Iran.

Hassan, the man who would have complete control, who would disfigure and kill a woman who disobeyed him, who is psychotic and obsessive.

Ahmad, the man who does not respect his wife, who needs control and is suspicious and wears away a woman's self esteem, tries to take away the freedom she had and wants back, but never physically abuses her.

Fereshteh's uncle, who shows progress from the old way of thinking (which he probably shared with his brother) to a more liberated view where smart, independent women are not intimidating and unnatural.

Fereshteh's father, who shows that a man can change. His character's progression toward a point of view that values Fereshteh from one that blames her shows that progress does not have to happen from generation to generation, it can occur within a person.

Roya's husband, who epitomizes what is lacking in the life of the repressed who have no recourse because laws are created to keep them "in their places": mutual respect, genuine love, no contest to independence, partnership.

Milani sets this movie in the late 1970s and 1980s for a very specific reason. Not only does Milani show that there many kinds of men in Iran, just as there here in the U.S. and around the world, she shows that there are men who do not treat women poorly just because laws allow them to. She shows that there is a progression taking place (Fereshteh's father, uncle, cousin, Roya's husband). If that progression was occurring in the 1970s and continued after the Islamic Revolution of 1979, what kind of men and relationships must there now exist in Iran?

While both main female characters are strong, independent, and smart, the point of Two Women is largely about showing Iranian men, the Iranian society, as something that is not barbaric and void of respect for women. By using characters like Hassan and Ahmad, Milani shows her awareness that some change is needed, that women are not treated as equals. She makes a stellar case against the mistreatment of women. But she also does a stellar job at devillainizing Iranian men by showing that they are not all like Hassan and Ahmad and that even those who share some characteristics with them can change.

The History Of Palestine

I've always been a little torn regarding the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. I've also always had a much clearer view of Israel's side of the conflict than of Palestine's. While I have tried to keep in mind how the Palestinians must feel, how I know I, too, would still harbor resentment for a deal that forced me from my home, it's difficult to see both sides when your knowledge begins in the middle. This video, "The History Of Palestine," definitely gave me more perspective.

(Follow this link to the video if it doesn't work for you here.)

I thought of the Palestinian perspective as that of anger for loss of home and land. But they lost much, much more. If I had ever bothered to really think about how the state of Israel came about, I'm sure I would've figured out all the bloodshed. Maybe I didn't want to think about that aspect of the "transition." But I don't think I would have imagined quite this story. People forced from their land and homes by what amounts to a brutal regime. The parallels drawn between the jews establishing Israel and what they were trying to forever escape from seem as if they were pulled from some fiction.

And how can we not sympathize with people who can look at their homes but are told "These are no longer yours"? With people who can see their country but are told "This is no longer yours"? How can we sympathize so much with those who take up residence in another's home when that other's clothes, dishes, and blood still freshly stain the heavy air of the place? We are made to feel as if we must choose one group to support, but how can we when the jews have been on both sides of this literal fence within the past 60 years? Our government takes sides, but that's easy to do when you view one side as the victim and the other as the villain. That's easy to do when you don't talk about how the fighting is coming from both sides. And it's easy to garner the public's support, too, when they are told so much about the Israeli half of the conflict and left to figure the Palestinian half out for themselves. It's easier to choose the side for which you've been conditioned to feel sympathy.

Even in light of "The History Of Palestine," we must remember that we have been shown the disheartening beginning of the conflict, but that blame and compassion fall to both sides for the decades that have intervened between then and now.

Orientalism

Edward Said's Orientalism was in some ways eye opening for me, but in some ways both expected and familiar.

In Orientalism, Said points out that throughout history the world east of Europe has been represented by Europeans. (What an exceptionally brief and simple explanation.) Europeans colonized much of Africa and what we (Westerners) now call the Middle East, and when they did so, began to speak for by writing about the people they colonized. The Europeans described the people: what they looked like, how they thought, what they felt, their physical, mental, emotional characteristics. And they did this for hundreds of years without ever asking "an Oriental" what s/he thought or felt. Indeed, some colonizers even claimed that the Orientals lacked the capacity to truly speak for and characterize themselves. So the canon of "knowledge" created by Europeans is how the Western world views Orientals. Said cites a 1967 study "by Morroe Berger, a professor of sociology and Near Eastern studies at Princeton" (287) and notes that Berger effectively indicates that "without his mediating, interpretative role the [Middle East] would not be understood, partly because what little there is to understand is fairly peculiar, and partly because only the Orientalist can interpret the Orient, the Orient being radically incapable of interpreting itself" (289) (emphasis mine).

What truly took me aback was that at the time of Orientalism's publishing (1978) universities (Princeton, et al.) were still teaching Middle Eastern Studies using these unauthentic texts that stereotyped and even villainized Orientals. Sometimes I think that I shouldn't be surprised to hear of this going on in 2009, but I would be. I would be surprised and just a touch disgusted.

Connections are important to me, I believe even small ones to be a cornerstone of critical thinking. So I'll outline a couple here.

First, this Orientalism business smacks of slavery to me. The way slavery was justified, that is, seems a derivative of Orientalism. Oriental colonization could be justified because of colonists' characterizations of Orientals. Slavery was, at first, justified because of whites' characterizations of blacks as stupid, godless, barely human things who could not speak for themselves and possessed no worth beyond their value on the auction block and in the fields. Even the earlist abolitionists were speaking out on behalf of the slave. Until, that is, the slaves began writing their own letters, articles, and novels. Even then, though, those who were pro-slavery would just refer back to what they "knew" about slaves (i.e., lie to themselves and others) in order to justify the institution.

Second, on pages 48 and 49 Said presents some ideas on the personae of Orientals. Conceptions had it, he states, that

"Arabs stress conformity . . . inhabit a shame culture whose 'prestige system' involves the ability to attract followers and clients . . . ('Arab society is . . . based on a system of client- patron relationships') . . . Arabs can function only in conflict situations; that prestige is based solely on the ability to dominate others . . . a shame culture . . . makes a virtue of revenge . . . 'while the Arab value system demands absolute solidarity within the group, it

. . . encourages a kind of rivalry that is destructive of that very solidarity' . . . 'success counts' and 'the end justifies the means' . . . Arabs live 'naturally' in a world 'characterized by anxiety expressed in generalized suspicion and distrust' . . . 'strife, not peace, was the normal state of affairs . . .'"

Said goes on, but that's already really long and perhaps I made it difficult to follow. But you're all smart people and get the gist. The point is that while it's all stereotype and characterization (or caricaturization), much of it also reminds me of how one may describe modern day Western culture, particularly the United States.

9/11

This post doesn't concern class so much as it is a personal note.

I've noticed on a handful of our blogs mention of 9/11. I was in my sophomore year of college when that event took place. As I read your blogs and notice that some of you were in middle school or high school in 2001, I am prompted to consider an issue relative to our studies and to my future: my future students don't really remember a time that is not post-9/11.

Students who are 16 now were only 8 in 2001. Eight. It's difficult for me to recognize that people who are only a few years younger than I am aren't really cognizant of the flux our culture went through, that they may not remember the kinds of propaganda (commercials, print ads) that immediately followed those attacks, that they probably won't remember the heated debates and in some instances outrage surrounding the Patriot Act (although that's likely to remain one of the most tangible aspects of a post-9/11 U.S. culture), that they may not have a clear memory of being blatantly lied to by their President and government repeatedly over a long period of time, that they won't recognize differences in airport security, that my context for middle Eastern stereotypes - having watched them burgeon - is different than theirs will be.

It seems almost surreal to me that I'll almost certainly find myself explaining my memories to my students to provide them with a context for current events and social outlook. I suppose I just hadn't realized how sizable a gap a few years can make. But I think it is important for all of us who are becoming teachers - elementary, secondary, post-secondary - to remember the importance of context.

Sometimes we view events with different eyes than our students do not because of how or where we were brought up, not because of our moral or political leanings, but because of our memories of recent events, our proximity to them, our ability to clearly recall the social and political atmospheres surrounding those events, and our ability to clearly recall how parts of our culture were affected - our ability to see the waves directly after events like 9/11 and the ripples today.

The Scramble For Africa

This video, "Colonialism in 10 Minutes: The Scramble For Africa," reminded me of Saturday Night Live. Not in a sick I thought it was so funny when the little children had no hands sort of way, but because I remember old SNL sketches about Idi Amin. 

NBC is releasing SNL on DVD, and I've been watching the early episodes (the first four seasons). In 1976, '77, and '79 Garrett Morris played Amin. Yes, it's a sketch comedy show, but you'd be hard pressed to argue that it's a wholly mindless one. Ah, we'll trick them into current events with laughter! 

If you have watched/are going to watch the video, you don't need to read the next paragraph.

Beyond that, I was struck by the appallingly familiar chain of events surrounding Amin's regime. Obote is voted in; Amin, Britain, and Israel work together to overthrow Obote. Amin wreaks havoc in Uganda. Museveni spends the 1970s building a resistance to help rid the Ugandans of the tyranny and massacre they have to endure for eight years. Success! Amin is ousted! Another election is held, and Museveni is not elected, Obote is reelected. Here's where it gets tricky, does Museveni really create the NRA solely because he believes Obote's people rigged the election (hello modern day United States, Iran, Afghanistan), or is he also pissed at the fact that, after all he has done to free the Ugandans, there's a possibility that he was passed over? Regardless, he stages a coup in 1986 and, for all his want to be a good and legitimate ruler, speaks to the Acholi people in a retributionary (it's a word now) way (instead of prosecuting those perceived as having committed crimes against humanity (though both sides were involved in a civil war)). Then, of course, Northern rebel groups form to overthrow Museveni. The groups - again, those who say that they have good intentions and are working for the people - ultimately resort to "coercion, abduction, and terror."

It's like listening to Guns N' Roses' "Civil War" and then listening to "One in a Million" (which I wish I could believe was ironic or satirical and which I can barely believe Slash played on).

It's easy to think that everything would be O.K. if a "civilized" and democratic election were held. But how do we expect any country that has been colonized, ruled by force, and conspired against (Britain and Israel and Amin) to trust in an election when the first one (which was as recent as 1962) ended poorly and the second one (in 1979) was rigged and brought about civil war and the NRA? It's difficult to trust in a system you don't know; it's even more difficult to trust again a system you've seen fail. Taking rule by force seems like "doing things the hard way," but it's the model that has been in place and "worked" since the colonization of Africa began. Death, fear, resistance; these things seem to have had more staying power and lasting influence than democracy.

Class One

How much can a person really tell from the first day of class? I place much weight in first impressions but never let them cloud an evolving opinion.

That said, I think I'm going to like this class as well as the people I'll be in class with. Lately, my immediate assumptions about professors have been spot on, and Dr. Webb seems knowledgeable, laid back, confident, and supportive. And I take the ratio of return students as an indication that I can place confidence in his skill as an instructor. Because there was less interaction between students, I didn't get too much of an impression, but people, for the most part, seemed confident in themselves, and Dr. Webb seemed confident in his returners. (I'm a little concerned about the number of commas in that last sentence...)

All of that really means nothing. Here's what I really want to say: I'm looking forward to working hard and learning a lot. I'm looking forward to having a conversation with my classmates and with the film and literature we'll get to share with each other. I won't lie, I hate group work in the traditional, secondary education sense of the term. But collaboration and real discussion that promote critical thinking can produce extraordinary results.