A meandered on invisibility

I heard that you built an invisible fence
What about us? What about your friends?
It’s difficult not to take offense
When you’re running into an invisible fence

Barenaked Ladies- Invisible Fence

Relational practice, our ability to “work with others”, be friendly and supportive, polite and thoughtful in order to foster and improve workplace relations in the service of organizational goals, is both highly coveted and illusive within the workplace. Holmes and Marra (2004), extending Fletcher’s analysis (1999), suggest that relational practices fall under four themes: preserving (the mundane and tedious but necessary work), mutual empowerment (project advancing but other-orientated) , self achieving (aimed at improving the effectiveness of the individual) and creating team (the background conditions for the group to flourish). Holmes and Marra (2004) contend that relational practices most often become ‘evident’ through: indirect comments; humour; off the record ‘hallway conversations’. While often gendered as female practice, Holmes and Marra (2004) found that community norms had a greater impact on relational practices than gender.

One thought I had in relation to the article was the im/balance that occurs under the four themes of relational practices. Who is ‘allowed’ to carry out what type of relational practices? Who is ‘taking on’ the preserving practices and who has the privilege of engaging in self achieving practices? A middle aged male, racialized as white, may be given space to use humour to diffuse an uncomfortable situation, while a queer, Gen Z’r might be perceived as rude or unprofessional using the same tactic. One’s position may impact relational practices while in turn, relational practices may shape one’s unofficial ‘status’ within the workplace.

A second thought has to do with the invisibility of relational practices. In the competitive labour market, highlighted in “The global auction: The broken promise of jobs, education, and incomes”, one is always seeking to ‘level up’ skills, qualifications and accolades. In many workplaces, this is documented and surveilled through performance management processes and/or software . If my supervisor relies on ‘ invisible’ relational practices to offer recognition for good work, it’s not ‘recorded’ and I can’t use the feedback as ‘evidence’ of my success. Likewise, the ‘damage control’ extended to a less ‘competent’ colleague is not recorded. Does this really matter? I think it might. In the field of education, operating budgets are being slashed, and programs are being downsized. Whose job is secure? Who is let go for not being quite as ‘good’? There is the ‘official’ documentation that is used to sort and cull employees but there is also a tacit, ‘unofficial’ scorecard that comes into play that is not accountable or transparent. What is ‘remembered’ and what is ‘forgotten’ may (dis)advantage some (communities of) workers. And as this is all ‘invisible’ there is little room for advocacy or recourse.

This (in)direct leads me to Sara Ahmed’s (2012) article, “On being included: racism and diversity in institutional life”, in which she writes about the challenges and contradictions of work intended to institutionalize diversity. A sentence that stood out for me is, “When the rules are relaxed we encounter the rules” ( p39). I wonder if relational practices represent, at times, a relaxing of the rules and in those moments we are made acutely aware of approval or castigation? Does it become apparent who can ‘go to the pub’ and who stays in the office to complete the preserving tasks? One can see how relational practice competency may be connected to the institutional cloning or ‘good likeness’ that Ahmed observed. Those who can bring comfort in reflection, Ahmed argues, are recruited, retained and promoted. If it is whiteness that inhabits a space, then it is whiteness that is reproduced. The invisibility of relational practices may (un)intentionally reproduce whiteness regardless of the institutional goals.

I find the reference to institutional goals in Holmes and Marra (2004) interesting in light of the commitment of so many institutions and organizations to addressing issues of Equity, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI). These can be important goals, however, as Ahmed points out:

“… the recognition of institutional racism can easily be transformed into a form of institutional therapy culture where the institution becomes the sick person who can be helped by receiving the appropriate therapy” (p.47)

What are the therapies on offer? Pop a few vitamins of intercultural training? A course of anti-bacterial anti-racism workshopping? A bit of blood letting to purge ourselves of a few bad racist? Paint a mural and celebrate our diversity? A wellness approach of meditative reflection and mindful practice? The last offers the soft pillow of suffocation as opposed to a brick wall to bang against.

Is the patient cured, “When the diversity is so ‘evident’ that it can be assumed that the box has been ticked”? As I scroll through Facebook, a Maclean’s article “How to prioritize diversity, equity and inclusion in the workplace” sponsored by Canadian Business, pops up telling leaders EDI is more than just filling quotes. It includes, they suggest “Going above and beyond traditional hiring by looking globally and providing immigration support, language-skills training and team-integration assistance” and “[e]nsuring that clients are able to be served in their language of choice” in order to be a “…high-performance businesses that energize our economy, even in the toughest of times” (March, 2021). EDI for some has become an opportunity to import skilled labour who can be “trained” and “integrated”, or perhaps cloned, within the boundaries and structural constraints of the organization (Fuller, et al 2005) for the goal of expanding client bases. Has EDI become co-opted, monetized and depoliticized? Was EDI ever committed to diversity/social justice work?  And can diversity/social justice work occur within  institutions and organizations?

Diversity practitioners, Ahmed argues, strive for “…diversity to go through the whole system” (p.28 italics original) implying that the ‘cure’ is found beyond the efforts of self-improvement, beyond policy, curriculum and the course offerings of the institution. It goes up the ladder to include those who fund institutions, to government agencies, philanthropic organizations, and the public/private funders of research and development. Nothing less than systemic change. That is a tall order.

This week the new Alberta K-6 “Curriculum” was released, which according to Minister of Education, Adriana LaGrange is, “ ensuring that our students have that rich, essential knowledge and skills…” (Corbella, March 2021). Such essential knowledge includes the “the concept of money” (Gr.K) and learning about “business and trade” in (Gr.2), that “[m]ost Albertans are Christians” and “…newcomers bring new and unfamiliar religions, faith and practices..” (Gr. 6), that “[s]ome Black Albertans overcame prejudice and achieved individual success” ,  “Chinese and Indian immigrants suffered racial discrimination”(Gr.4), and “Alberta aspires to be open, welcoming…” but immigrants “must pass a test” (Gr.6). I could go on. By age 12, the children of Alberta will learn “…the nation offers hospitality and even love to would be citizens as long as they return this hospitality by integrating, or by identifying with the nation (Ahmed, 2012 p43). A white, Eurocentric, Christian nation focused on money, business and the individual with little tolerance or consideration for ‘others’.

That a document like this could be presented and supported as a curriculum,  is evidence of embedded, structural racism and a deeply ingrained faith in free market capitalisms, entwined in a symbiotic relationship. I used to think the questions were, where to start and how to do justice work right?  Not so much anymore. There are millions ‘started’ and doing justice work but their voices get lost in the cacophony of life and the moments of stagnation can leave diversity/justice workers feeling like they are banging there head against the wall.  In my own small efforts, I move between feeling agentic and skillful (Vincent & Braun, 2013) to futile and invisible. On my more cynical days, I am challenged to see beyond the performativity of EDI therapies and I am beguiled at the resources (money, time, talent) spent on stage props. When I am presented with public work like the K-6 curriculum I can be overwhelmed at the scale and level of work required.  And when I read the comments in social media or the words of ‘experts’ in the press I wonder, does anyone even care about fairness or justice? And this is multiplied in a hundred ways through the course of a week.

Thankfully, as I sit and drink my coffee this morning, I am hit by a wave of thoughtful critique and humour, side comments and tiny actable snips of advice from small communities engaged in local actions: letter writing and documentation, fact checking and zoom ‘teach ins’, for doing the mundane work towards mutual empowerment. I am thankful for the relational practices of these folks. Dr. Evelyn Hamdon’s metaphor of social justice work as gut bacteria, tiny invisible acts capable of breaking down matter and creating fissures, making the invisible visible over time, came at an opportune moment, as did the words of Angela Davis picked up at from a neighbours free sidewalk library and finding the first dandelion of the season. Perhaps the question is not  how to do social justice work, but rather, how to maintain hope that social justice work can be done and how to nourish and grow the efforts?

References
Ahmed, S. (2012). On being included: racism and diversity in institutional life. Durham: Duke University Press. Chapter one: Institutional Life, pgs. 19-50.

Brown, P., Lauder, H., & Ashton, D. (2012). The global auction: The broken promise of jobs, education, and incomes. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Fuller, A., Hodkinson, H., Hodkinson, P., & Unwin, L. (2005). ‘Learning as peripheral participation in Communities of Practice: A reassessment of key concepts in workplace learning,’ British Educational Research Journal, 31, 1, 49-68.

Holmes, J. & Marra, M. (2004). ‘Relational practice in the workplace: Women’s talk or gendered discourse,’ Language in Society, 33, 377-398.

Vincent, C., & Braun, A. (2013). ‘Being ‘fun’ at work: Emotional labour, class, gender, and childcare,’ British Educational Research Journal, 39(4), 751-768.

Learning, alienation and work

A not so random thought.
Reading Colley (2012) my first reaction was, I need to share this article! I need to talk this one through with those I work with. I even had the article ready to share with a manager, also in a PhD program, as an ‘interesting case in a period of change and austerity not unlike our own times’ but I stopped myself, unsure at how such an article would be received, even in an environment encouraging ‘brave conversations’. The intention was not to suggest this is my/our current reality but, given the nature of work in the public sector, ethical challenges do occur and our failure to acknowledge, problematize and learn to work with/through have real costs and consequences. I wonder if I hesitated because it would go against the organizational performativity I feel obliged to engage in?

I work in an institute that is actively engaged in pursuing cultural change and which has made a commitment to developing policy and practices related to Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, Anti Racism and Decolonization (EDI +). Our Culture Day included keynotes by Dr. Dwayne Donald who, with the metaphor of the fort, highlighted coloniality in curriculum and Junetta Jamerson who challenged us to actively engage in anti racist practices. In break out sessions we were encouraged to dismantle, create, learn and teach for social justice. This requires both learning and unlearning. However, “learning requires a context of at least some security, of trust in the environment and other persons who populate it” (Colley, 2012 p.318). If I am hesitant to share a journal article with another student, I wonder if enough work has been done to build trust in the workplace and/or if the current economic /social conditions for the desired learning around EDI+ to occur exists?

Canada is sold to (in)voluntary (im)migrants as a society of opportunity, but as Brown, Lauder & Ashton (2011) argue the trap of opportunity is

“… making people increasingly self-centered, stressed and unfulfilled as more and more effort, money and time is spent doing what is necessary than for any intrinsic purpose”( p.141).

When I consider education and training for newcomers to Canada in relation to Shan’s (2009) scholarship exploring credential and certification regime (CCR), I am struck by and deeply uncomfortable with the incongruencies between stated EDI and the processes, practices, programs and policies within post-secondary institutions that support “…a system of selection and exclusion, producing structural segregation” (Shan, 2009 p.359). Declarations are made for decolonizing learning within post-secondary institutions yet the same institutions offer programs specifically catering to populations who experience a devaluing of training and credentials that are deemed too ‘foreign’, too outside some Western standard or whose education and learning has followed a non-Western trajectory. Where is the consideration for other worldviews or ways of knowing and being ? Institutions might argue they are responding to industry demand for ‘standards’ and ‘accountability’ but they also profit from narrow and arbitrarily set standards. I am left wondering who or what EDI intended to support? Is it a tool or space for social justice or a form of ‘woke-washing’ intended to maintain market share in the education industry?

What do I do with this awareness, this ethical discomfort with these practices and the role I (in)directly play in the process? Colley argues the tension of navigating ethical practices is a form of work. I wonder if this work is inherent to paid labour, as there is always the potential for conflicting values as well as an inequality in power or is it, as suggested, a product of or exasperated by a managerial state and audit society?

In regards to the discomfort, Colley suggests I “..must decide whether to pursue conscientious objection, compliance, or adopt a stance of ‘principled infidelity’” (p 322). Having a voice and a stage to object, feeling the necessity to comply, or the compulsion to commit an act of infidelity is always shifting and situational, tied to position, location and perceptions of power and access, costs and benefits. Where are my stages (especially in a time of COVID) and who do I speak to/for? How many times do I speak before I learn to be silent, to comply? When is infidelity – cheating, straying, being unfaithful the most honest act?

Another thought
In a recent webinar I mentioned that I listen to podcasts during walks (In Defense of Domestic Workers), but thinking about it afterwards, I realized this is no longer the case. Over the past year, I have come to consume podcasts as I work not as I walk. Teaching online has shifted the nature of my labour. Rather than spending 4 hours a day in direct contact with learners, I am spending those hours (plus many others) developing high quality content that learners can engage in asynchronously and independently. This can, at times, become a technical process, requiring too much concentration to mentally complete other tasks but freeing enough to absorb new thoughts and ideas, as I cut and paste lines of html code and reformat materials for predictability and accessibility. I do not identify with this technical labour in the same way as I did when working directly with foundational learners, and I am not sure how I see this work. The potential for surveillance and demand for standardization bristles against my self-image as a professional, skilled practitioner. My ability to respond to emergent learner needs, and to capture ‘teachable moments’ seems reduced in an environment that requires the ‘front loading’ of work.

I  recognize that I have developed new skills, not only technical but also relational. I welcome the little voices and tears that ‘interrupt’ our lessons, reminding me of the important work that is happening. I am honoured to be welcomed into my students home and humbled by the grace they offer as we muddle through learning together. Is my identity as a teacher and mentor challenged sitting alone with my podcasts? Probably. Do I feel alienated from my work? Somedays. Would I feel more connected if I went into ‘the building’ each day. I am not sure.

I can identify some of the learning that I have experienced over the past year, working and teaching in this new reality. What is more challenging and/or uncomfortable to identify is the non learning that I might be engaged in during this period of austerity, change and uncertainty.

What have I learned or not learned about my work that I would hesitate to share a journal article?

“There’s room at the top they are telling you still…” 

Reference

Brown, P., Lauder, H., & Ashton, D. (2012). The global auction: The broken promise of jobs, education, and incomes. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Colley, H. (2012). ‘Not learning in the workplace: Austerity and the shattering of illusio in public service,’ Journal of Workplace Learning, 24, 5, 317-337.

Shan, H. (2009). ‘Shaping the re-training and re-education experiences of immigrant women: The credential and certificate regime in Canada,’ International Journal of Lifelong Education, 28, 3, 353-369.

International Women’s Day

International Women’s Day

I was introduced to International Women’s Day, in a real way, while living in St. Petersburg, Russia. It was a day of small luxuries and good company, laughter and fun. After returning to Canada we continued to celebrate the day in small ways. Each year IWD gains a little more prominence in North American culture, from Dove  to PayPal, capitalizing on another opportunity to market their brand in swathes of purple.

In 2021, I will not be celebrating with friends. COVID restrictions remain in place and the thought of another zoom chat overwhelms me. I am exhausted this year. Exhausted from the emotional labour of ‘keeping things normal’ when life is anything from. I am exhausted from the monotony of working, teaching, studying, socializing, simply existing within the same 1000 sq. feet with 3 other people and I am exhausted from the gratitude I feel obliged to muster each day for how well we are able to weather this storm; for jobs that stayed, the health and healing of loved ones, the security that comes from privilege.

Today I will not celebrate. Today I will take a few minutes to share and support all those women who are also exhausted: the 50,000 Hotel Workers laid off during COVID, the Haitian asylum seekers providing health care, the parents juggling work/ childcare from home and all the other women impacted by COVID who need a rest. I wish you all “Feel Good” soon.

-w

The Professional

First, we must understand that the capitalist is purchasing labour-power- our capacity to work productively- rather than labour itself. This means that the employer always has an interest in seeking to intensify productivity(Colley, 2018 p.3)

 

There is an adage thrown around, “when we know better, we do better.” With Colley’s argument in mind, I wonder who is defining, being served and benefitting from ‘better’?

What does it mean to work productively as an educator? What makes a better teacher? Is it the number of students one can process? The quality of instruction, and if so, how is quality judged: test scores, teacher evaluations, employment rates amongst finishers or civic/social engagement? Perhaps productively is assessed on the number of administrative tasks performed accurately in a week, a month, a term. Productivity could be judged on ability to flex some unique skill set or on the ability to embrace and radiate the corporate branding of the institution? Is one more productive responding to the concern of one learner, or when completing an administrative task for a class of 50? Is it more productive to lead students through a standardized resume template or supporting them in developing the language to tell their own story.

As educators we want to do better, for the learner. To ‘do better’ is part of being ‘professional’. As professionals we have a ‘duty’, an obligation to be informed, to innovate, to implement best practices, and to constantly add ‘value’ to all that we do.

And so we add a small,
30 second step to a process and our course might,
according to evidence based research,
be better for a particular (group of) learner(s).

And we repeat that step 500 times over the course of the term
Adding 4 hours of intensified production- 29 minutes a week or 5.87 minutes a day.
Negligible
Right?

We can squeeze out or compress six minutes of value into a day.
Automate a process
skim a text
use a ready made resource, no need to customize
our learners can be standardized
Right?

We can drop that conversation with a colleague
Forgo that coffee
Do ‘just one more thing’ before we step away for rest
Right?

Repeat this addition five times, ten times a term.

When the evidence deems
anecdotal comments better than letter grades,
learners benefit from differentiated A and B,
achievement is best documented as C,
curriculum needs more of D
we add and
intensify

because

we can do better.

“The distinctive capacity of human labor power is not therefore its ability to produce surplus, but rather its intelligent and purposive character, which gives it infinite adaptability and which produces the social and cultural conditions for enlarging its own productivity, so that surplus product may be continuously enlarged.” (Braverman, 1998)

 

We struggle though the ‘intuitive’ steps  of self-service portals  because we are

efficient

adaptable

flexible

We wade through forms and processes to secure X or Y because we are

team players

collaborative

Fill out those surveys, join that committee

an agent of change

engaged

Unionized educators rally around hours of instruction and prep time, wages and benefit packages but don’t often push, publicly or overtly, against the intensification of productivity. We will passionately debate the effectiveness of strategy A over that of B, but will rarely consider the commodity we are producing or who profits from our practices beyond the ubiquitous ‘learner’. Do we accept data,  research, the evidence presented in PDs sessions,  industry conferences and in association meetings without asking: whose questions, whose evidence, and whose benefit is served? Sometimes. Maybe.

Colley, reminds us there are two ways to increase labour-power. The first through the extension the work day and secondly through productivity via intensified demands. Perhaps in our pink collar labour, we clothe labour-power in the nice, middle class cloak of ‘professionalism’ so we can frame it as a choice rather than a condition. As a calling rather than a system of exchange.

I welcome your reactions. What made you say “but…” or “I think she’s lost the plot? Anything you can relate to? A new thought or questioned  formed?

 

Reference

Braverman, H. (1974). Labor and monopoly capital: The degradation of work in the twentieth century.

Colley, H. (2015). ‘Labour-power,’ in Marxism and Feminism, S. Mojab (Ed.). London: Zed Books, pgs. 221-238.

Work, Learning and Life

“Buy this car to drive to work,  drive to work to pay for this car”

Metric “Handshake

 

So, a few days ago I was reading the first chapter of “The Problem of Work: Feminism, Marxism, Antiwork Politics, and Postwork Imaginaries” by Kathi Weeks and I had one of those uncomfortable parenting moments when you realize the incongruencies and hypocrisies between the theoretical ideals and philosophical musings which you think you hold and the everyday practices and conversations which you engage in.

In the text, Weeks (2011) asks the reader to question the logic of work and to consider for a moment why we are so inattentive to the endeavor of work given: the time dedicated to training as well as searching and preparing for work; the centrality of work in our identity and morality, the significance in our class and political formation; the impact of work status on eligibility to health care, pensions and income support; and that it is literally how most of us  ‘earn’ our living. While Weeks’ arguments are presented as provocative, they are not unfamiliar, with threads of the discourse found within both popular culture and academia. Our year of sabbatical was, if nothing else, a conscious step off the treadmill of work and school, a time of questioning and recognition of the place work holds in our lives.

“Raising children with the attributes that will secure them forms of employment that can match if not surpass the class standing of their parents is the gold star of parenting.” (Week, 2011 p.6)

Pause. 

Our eldest is now 19 years old, a high school graduate that found little validation in his public school experience. Since leaving the hollow halls of “formal” learning he has been engaged in numerous gig positions, picking up enough seasonal and contract work to cobble together part-time work. During non-waged hours he contributes to various home-tasks (reproductive work) that frees labour and boosts the productivity of our (the parents) work. He provides technical assistance within the home and voluntarily offers his knowledge and skills for free within our community and to his online peers. He is the creator and encourager of music, graphic art and media production. And, this was/ is achieved through substantial and sustained self-directed learning in response to problems he wants to solve and visions he wants to create. If work achieves something, involves a challenge and requires effort and persistence (Cairns & Malloch, 2011), then I can say he is working full-time. And if training adds value to the worker (McPherson & Wang, 2014), that engagement in social practices and problem solving is learning (Billett, 2004)  and that leisure allows for schooling in the important pursuits, as suggested in Cairns & Malloch (2011), then I can also say he is both learning and  preparing for the future. 

And yet…. 

Too often and too easily we, his parents, slip into conversations: inquiring about job openings, suggesting potential training programs, nudging towards further educational opportunities and/or encouraging (pushing?) him to be more productive with his “what we will” time – this last conversation most likely entered  when we ourselves are feeling overworked or time crunched. There is, upon reflection, a frightening regularity  and predictability to these largely one-way conversations.

Ummm, what is driving this? 

As parents and educators, we have often been openly and honestly critical of formal education for; its homogenizing effect; false narrative of meritocracy; emphatic focus on individualism; and for what Mojab (2009) refers to as the “…normalisation of capitalist relations” (p.7). Yet I think we are also challenged to envision what exists outside this model of formalized training/schooling for work. Or perhaps rather, we do envision alternative structures, however, there is perceived safety in the standard. There are the “what if’s”. If we don’t nurture/encourage/expect/demand the attributes of employability, what kind of future will said son have? How will we be judged or held to account as guardians? 

I wonder, to what extent these conversations are driven by gendered ideas of work? While Weeks’ argues there is a “…marginalization and an underestimation of unwaged forms of reproductive labour…(p.13) she also suggests that there is a sanctification of feminized forms of labour and I will add a cultural narrative of the helpful female volunteer (See Desire for Development: Whiteness, Gender, and the Helping Imperative). While it is still culturally tolerated for a young woman to live at home to ‘help’ parents and the community, in preparation for the duties found in marriage and childrearing, young men are expected to practice being ‘breadwinners’ and ‘providers’, with no need for practicing domesticity. Would extended family question him less about future plans and current waged work if he was female?

Is there an element of envy and resentment present in these conversations? As a member of our family, our son is afforded what is essentially a basic income. He is able to cover the cost of some essentials and he knows that regardless of fluctuations in hours or wages, that his basic needs/cost (shelter, food) are secure. This basic income affords, as earlier shared, a very different engagement in work, learning and life, one that is: void of overwork; open to the sharing rather than selling of skills; and more self-guided and intrinsically motivated. Are we jealous of this ‘luxury’? Do we, (not) so secretly wish to engage less in work and a little more in “…creative activity, not only to make commodities but to remake a world” (Weeks, 2011 p.19). If so, what is it exactly that is preventing us from pulling back? Do we fear the world being remade by youth? Do we (un)consciously believe that those not consumed in waged work are ‘not pulling their weight’?

The current pandemic has offered a socially acceptable excuse for some to engage in work in a different way. For the moment it is ‘normal’ to have reduced hours, work part-time or to question the logic and feasibility of education/training for work. But if scholars, such as Guy Standing are correct, the precarity evident during the pandemic is not new but rather a growing feature of our society.  In such an environment, even the best of parents may not achieve their gold star. What does that mean for how we organize our family units and communities? Our relationships with one another?

 

References

Billet, S. (2004). ‘Workplace participatory practices,’ Journal of Workplace Learning, 16, 6, 312-324.

Cairns, L. & Mallock, M. (2011). Introduction: Theories of work, place, and learning: New directions in The Sage Handbook of Workplace Learning. London: Sage, pgs. 3-16.

Heron, B. (2007). Desire for Development: The Education of White Women as Development Workers, Wilfrid Laurier University Press

McPherson, R. & Wang, J. (2014). Low -income low-qualified employees’ access to workplace learning. Journal of Workplace Learning,  26 (6/7), pp 349-363 http://dx.doi.org/10.1108/JWL-09-2013-0069

Mojab, S. (2009). Turning work and lifelong learning inside out: A Marxist-Feminist attempt. In L. Cooper & S. Walters (Eds.), Learning/Work: Turning work and lifelong learning inside out. Cape Town: HSRC Press. Pgs. 4-15.

Standing, G. (2011). The precariat: The new dangerous class. London: Bloomsbury Academic.

Weeks, K. (2011). The problem with work: Feminism, Marxism, antiwork politics, and postwork imaginaries. Durham: Duke University Press.

Lest They Forget

“You traveled for 10 months with your kids. Wow, but what about school? To this question we often pause a moment and then admit somewhat sheepishly that we “kind of” mostly home-schooled. The response is always a variation of “well it  probably doesn’t matter. Think of the memories they will have.”

It is November now. Cadets sell plastic poppies outside shopping malls in remembrance of fallen soldiers and the battles fought for king and country. We are reminded of climbing the dunes at Dunkirk looking out to the vastness of the sea. We remember reading the names and ages etched on white crosses in Vimy and Ypres and Passchendaele. Losing each other in the trenches of  Diksmuide while poppies blew and songbirds sang.

And we also remember the silence of the Natzweiler-Struthof camp and consider the world that made it possible. We remember the victims of landmines in Cambodia and the survivors of Agent Orange in Vietnam and the tentative peace in Aceh. We remember the crowds in Hiroshima pleading for nuclear disarmament while anxiously watching America and North Korea rattling sabers off their coast. We remember the violence inflicted on indigenous populations as colonizing nations fought and fight today among themselves for economic domination- trade “partners”, resources, exploitable labour to make cheap clothes and dollar store items- in the name of development.  And we remember the migrants escaping war or corruption, discrimination, poverty or environmental destruction gathering in the modern day port cities looking for a break, seeking another way.

Yes, our children have memories. Lest they forget.