my life in dance (so far)
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my life in dance (so far)

So, as you have probably heard if you know me, the Owen Sound Dance Academy is celebrating 5 years since I took over in 2017. Wild!

What you may not know is that 2022 also marks 20 years since I started dancing myself. I wanted to avoid making a big fuss about this—I thought, it’s not that special, I started ballet at age 9 which is considered rather late to start dancing, far more talented people younger than me have already passed their 20th year of dance by now. And I have never felt that confident and strong as a dancer in my own right, so it felt kind of silly to celebrate myself when I am so much more proud of my students and their growth, and want to showcase them.

But I have been dancing as long as I can remember—long before I started formal classes. The only reason I started classes “late” was because my parents had to save up for them. We couldn’t afford Preschool Dance when I was 3, no matter how much I begged Santa to make me a ballerina.

I think those years dancing alone in my living room planted a seed for my future love of contemporary dance and improv.

I did not get to try every style of dance growing up, though I wanted to. When I started taking both ballet and highland together at age 12, I paid for the extra classes with babysitting money and asked for dance class funding instead of presents from my family at Christmas.

When Ann Milne took over the studio in 2007, my horizons expanded. It was Ann who asked me to help the Beginner Highland class with their Lilt during highland summer camp 2008, and that fall I started assisting regularly. By the end of that dance season I was teaching that class mostly on my own, and for the rest of high school I assisted and taught every moment I possibly could, and got to try other styles like modern and jazz in exchange. I studied theory and completed my Associates exam for highland in 2009. I lived and breathed the dance studio until I could not imagine a life without dancing, and took my chances applying to only one university, the one that would allow me to pursue a dance degree and an education degree at the same time.

I auditioned and got accepted into the York University Dance program in 2011, along with the concurrent Bachelor of Education program. At the time, I didn’t think I had a future in dance—I finished an entire Bachelor of Fine Arts degree just because my soul needed to be dancing. It was, and is, my life.

Every time I came home, I taught and danced as much as I could at the dance studio, by then called the Owen Sound Academy of Performing Arts. I started teaching ballet and contemporary, bringing back what I learned from the York dance program. After my first year, I came home and did my Members’ exam for highland. I kept competing in highland, I went with the studio to Scotland in 2013 right before my 3rd year of university. Later that year, my world crashed around me when I lost my mom. The day after she passed away, I went to the dance studio because that was my comfort place. Then, for whatever reason, this loss and grief gave me a new perspective and I launched myself with renewed passion into the rest of that year at school, participating in more dance events, going to auditions, and learning how to be more social (I was always very shy!).

I thought I was on a trajectory to become an elementary school teacher—I had known since I was very young, growing up helping the younger students at my mom’s private community school she ran in our home, that I was going to be a teacher. But sometime towards the end of university I started to feel the little sparks of another dream… Every time I went home and taught at the dance studio I thought, if I could ever teach dance full-time and make a living out of it, I would drop everything to do so. But, I thought, what chance would little old me ever have to do something like that?

I graduated from York University in 2016 with my Bachelor of Education and Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance, after 5 years of incredible experiences, learning and growing as a teacher, dancer, and human. I came home and continued to teach as much as I could at the studio, taking over the new Contemporary program started by Helen Jones, one of my teachers from York who continues to be an amazing mentor to this day. I also taught Advanced Ballet and all levels of highland from time to time. I worked at a preschool and started supply teaching at elementary schools. And I pushed away the bleak knowledge that if I got a full-time teaching job, I would have to become less involved with dance.

Then in the winter of 2017, Ann approached me with the chance of a lifetime: she was ready to move on in her career and was looking for someone to take over the studio. It was an easy decision for me. The studio and its dancers were on my mind 24/7, nothing thrilled and inspired me more than when I was in that space teaching and creating, and simply imagining a life without it was heartbreaking. At the same time, it was daunting—terrifying, even! Taking over a business at the age of 24, with the extent of my business experience being a greeting card & craft business I’d played with the year before. And yes, I’d grown and tried to become more confident socially, but I had long suffered from anxiety (undiagnosed at the time) and most of the networking and communication part of the business was fake-it-til-you-make-it for me. My strengths lay in teaching and creating a positive learning environment for kids; that was the one thing I was sure of. But that was all I needed—it made me determined. And with Ann’s guidance and support from my friends and mentors, we successfully transitioned the studio to open as the Owen Sound Dance Academy in the fall of 2017.

And the rest, as they say, is history. I took a business program with the Business Enterprise Centre, I auditioned for the CBTS program with the Royal Academy of Dance in 2017, got accepted and spent the next two years studying alongside running the studio, until I successfully completed the program, which is why the studio is now RAD certified and able to run ballet exams. I put on my first three big shows as director, Curiosity and The Nutcracker in 2018 and Elemental Expressions in 2019. In 2019 the last few dancers from that very first Beginner Highland class I helped way back in 2008, graduated and went off to university, a few of them certified highland teachers themselves by then.

Then the pandemic hit, and I think enough has been said about that. But despite all of the stress and uncertainty, the majority of my incredible dance families stuck through, dancing in whatever way they could and making sure the studio stayed afloat, and we emerged with actually more growth in 2021 than before. Ann’s daughter Maggie Armstrong, who I grew up dancing with at the Owen Sound Academy of Performing Arts, joined our teaching staff in 2020 after graduating from the School of Toronto Dance Theatre. With her training our contemporary dancers blossomed, in and out of lockdowns, through outdoor dance classes and virtual performances. Then with the studio growing so much in 2021 I knew I needed another ballet teacher, and with my apparently incredible luck, Michele Hopkins happened to have just moved to the area, with 25+ years of teaching experience and a teaching philosophy that aligned perfectly with my own. With her training over the past year, our ballet dancers have grown in leaps and bounds.

All of which is to say, yes I have been in the dance world for 20 years as of this year, but my life has been filled with perfect happenstance and luck, and the right people supporting me at the right time, which combined with my all-consuming love for the art of dance, is really what led me to where I am today. In any case, I caved to the demands of my dancers (and my fiancé!) and I will be celebrating this milestone, 20 years of dance along with 5 years of directing the Owen Sound Dance Academy, by dancing alongside my 5+ year contemporary dancers in our end-of-the-year show this coming Saturday. If you are in the audience, I hope you enjoy the piece, and if you are in the show, I hope that you will feel the joy that I feel every day, getting to do what I love with dancers who I love and am so proud of.

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look, pretty lights!

Today is July 1st, and there are still fireworks and livestreamed festivities happening in my hometown tonight, despite calls from indigenous communities and activists to stop celebrating our blind patriotism in the light of the mass unmarked graves being discovered at former residential schools across the country. Other local communities have cancelled their Canada Day celebrations and made statements of support–but not here in Owen Sound.

Over 1,000 bodies of children, stolen from their families, thrown in mass graves after being abused in the residential school system. Some as young as three years old. This should be a day of mourning, respect, and learning. And yet you still want to wear your red and white, wave your flags, sing “true patriot love” and watch fireworks–what are fireworks on Canada day but a beacon of Canadian ignorance? Look at us, we’re so wonderful and happy and free and good–don’t look at the indigenous people begging us to stop! Don’t read up on all of horrors of the Canadian colonial state and the history of cultural genocide continuing to this day! Look, pretty lights!

It’s a distraction from the reality, blinders to the horror you would feel if you allowed yourself to think for two seconds about what Canada really is.

You know, last year I said I thought people should “celebrate Canada Day” by learning about the history of colonialism and listening to the stories of indigenous communities. People told me they “know Canada has done terrible things” but “want to celebrate the many good things Canada has done”. Don’t you hear what that sounds like? I let it slide last year. I should not have let it slide. There comes a point where people have to make an active choice to be ignorant on these issues. This year, we are beyond that point. Unless you somehow have not looked at the internet, turned on the TV, or listened to the radio in the past two months, you’ve heard about the 215 children found at Kamloops, BC, and the hundreds more found at other sites since. You’ve heard that the indigenous people of so-called Canada are in mourning, in shock, reliving personal and generational trauma, asking for a nationally recognized day of mourning. Recognition from the government and the Catholic Church for their part in creating and maintaining the residential school system. The Catholic Church has refused, and Trudeau’s government has had nothing but pretty, empty words.

Trudeau says the flag at the Peace Tower in Ottawa will be at half-mast today. The symbol of the Canadian colonial state will be a little bit lower in the air today. A gesture of respect. A moment of reflection. And then… look, pretty lights!

Wow.

Canada has been “reflecting” on its colonial history for years. Years of “thoughts and prayers”, years of “my heart breaks at this news” as if it’s new, years of “oh what terrible things were done by some nameless evil, certainly not us, the government, look how respectful we are”. Don’t you think, Mr. Literal-Prime-Minister-of-this-Country, it might be time for some action?

Oh look, pretty lights!

Anyway, Justin Trudeau can’t hear me, but every white and non-indigenous person I know who hasn’t stopped reading this yet (if they did, you already know they’ve chosen ignorance), here is what you can do to take action: educate yourself. You don’t have to go out and protest. But you do need to finally open your eyes to reality, and open your ears to listen to the truth of indigenous issues in so-called Canada. Here are some places to start:

And most importantly, listen to indigenous communities and creators. The goal of this post is to share resources with white settlers on my timeline who, probably without realizing it, are staying comfortably in their bubble of digestible white and white-washed news and content. I know I have friends and family who won’t learn about these things unless someone they know puts it in front of them, so that’s what I’m doing. Now it’s up to you to continue the research yourself and do better.

Update: In between writing the earlier part of this post and now, I listened to Canadaland‘s recent episode on the #CancelCanadaDay phenomenon, and realized that I have fallen into the same trap that is taking over the news in this country right now: instead of talking about what the discovery of mass unmarked graves and the renewed conversation about residential schools means for us as Canadians and how it can spark change–we’re debating whether or not to celebrate Canada Day. The whole debate is once again a distraction from reality–that these issues are ongoing, that even if Canada Day gets “cancelled”, those thousands of children will still be dead on July 2nd. More graves will still be found. The families and communities will still be suffering. Celebrate Canada Day or cancel it–but what will you to tomorrow? That’s the more important question.

Oh look, pretty lights! Or don’t look at the pretty lights, cancel them! Look at yourself and pat yourself on the back for your part in cancelling them! Just don’t look at what’s actually going on.

The last thing I’m going to share is some of the organizations and creators I follow, partly to keep updated on all of the above listed issues, past, present and future, and partly just because I like their content. Diversify your feeds and your media intake to break out of that white Canadian patriot bubble, so that you can no longer be distracted by pretty lights.

Indigenous organizations to follow:

APTN website

Indigenous Peoples Movement instagram twitter facebook

Indigenous Climate Action instagram twitter facebook

Prairie Sage Protectors instagram twitter facebook

Raven Trust instagram twitter facebook

First Nations Child & Family Caring Society website

Seeding Sovereignty instagram twitter facebook

Wet’suwet’en & Gidimt’en Checkpoint instagram twitter facebook

1492 LandBack Lane instagram twitter facebook

Fairy Creek Blockade instagram twitter facebook

Indigenous creators to follow:

Decolonize Myself instagram twitter

Megan Tipler (tiplerteaches) instagram

Dani Sally-Anne (thunderbirdwomanreads) instagram youtube

Sisters Sage instagram

Morgan Tsetta Films instagram tiktok

Shina Nova instagram tiktok

Melissa’s Bookshelf tiktok

Tia Wood instagram tiktok

That Warrior Princess instagram tiktok

Everett LaFromboise instagram tiktok

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aprils like this

an excerpt from my journal

The other day I took my partner’s dog out in the morning and I was standing, as I often do, with my face turned up to the sun, eyes closed, soaking it in, and thinking, I should do this more often. As I often do.

And then I had another thought: because it’s not always going to be like this.

We live in a world that, environmentally, is spiralling fast towards a destruction manufactured by capitalism and sponsored by corporate greed. Society’s rampant disregard for its impacts on the natural world over the past 200 years or so–especially the last 50 years or so–has turned that spiral into a speeding train with an end that is inevitable. I can do all of the climate advocacy I want–and I do, and I will continue to–but that can’t stop us from losing the world as we know it within our lifetimes. What can activists and scientists and land protectors, tree huggers and animal lovers, really do against the monsters of corporation and government blinded by capital, the corrupting allure and addiction to the trap of capitalism? When you pause to think about it, even for a moment, it’s hard not to feel hopeless.

That day, with my face turned up to the sun, I resolved to spend more time–as much time as I can–out here experiencing, appreciating, documenting, every part of the natural world I can reach. Because I don’t know how much of this will expire before I do.

Dear future… chickadees are calling back and forth across the path. Somewhere in front of me there is a red-winged blackbird trilling away. And finches and robins and jays all around–why haven’t I learned all of their sounds yet? And beyond them, of course, the geese and ducks conversing in the river, and beyond that, the traffic–always the steady background hum of traffic and industry.

The other day, when I was thinking about all of this, I realized: our kids are going to miss out on so much. I don’t even have kids yet, but if things keep going–if capitalism and the capitalist-colonial state goes unchecked much longer, our kids will be the teen heroes of the post-apocalyptic dystopian bestsellers we read as teens. Will springs like this even exist when my kids are grown?

Spring has always been my favourite season. As a kid I used to wait for it with impatience–I would write in my journal every day: I can’t wait for spring to come. And sitting out here, chilled to the bone in my several layers and rubber boots as the sun comes up, knowing that the afternoon will bring barefoot cartwheel weather–this April still feels like the Aprils of my childhood.

But how many more Aprils like this will we have?

Other places around the world have already been experiencing the effects of climate change far more than we have here in rural Ontario–wildfires lasting months, unseasonal hurricanes and floods, devastating tsunamis, frequent earthquakes, snowstorms where there should never be snowstorms. I am lucky and privileged to be in a place where the weather and seasons haven’t changed that much–yet. All the more reason to appreciate it while it lasts, and fight not only for its protection, but for the reconstruction and further protection of the places that have already been hit. We can’t run from this. Things have to change.

Have you ever thought about flowers going extinct? Recently I realized I’ve never heard of flowers going extinct–animals, often, trees, sometimes–but flowers? I’m sure we’ve already lost so many and I’ve never even seen or heard it talked about. This morning I walked past the big patch of blue starflowers that always bloom this time of year around the back entrance of the park. What if, one day, they’re gone? And the other wildflowers I love–forget-me-nots and daisies and chicory and periwinkles; in 60 years when I’m walking through the woods picking flowers with my grandchildren, will any of these flowers be there? Will there even be woods to walk in? Will any part of the world be safe to walk in?

I should start pressing flowers again.

Let me share with you something that made me cry yesterday. I watched a video where Cosmo Sheldrake talks about recording live birdsong and weaving it into his music, focusing especially on endangered birds in England, so there is some record of their song when they are gone. And then I had the thought: what if, one day soon, chickadees become endangered? What if, one day, chickadees are extinct? What if the birds we know and love today, one day become nothing but stories we tell to remember them?

What can we do about it? Really, truly? Me, a 28 year old dance studio owner from Owen Sound, Ontario–I have no real power to stop this train. But like Danny Michel in his song “Feather, Fur, and Fin”, the more you run and find sanctuary in the few places still surviving, the more the disease of the capital-colonial state will spread until nothing is left but humans fighting over the fast-dwindling supply of resources extracted from a world we’ve already destroyed. Joni Mitchell and You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone, well–I know what I’ve got. I know some of what others have lost, though the scale of the damage is beyond my understanding. And I don’t want the world to lose any more. That’s the simplest way to put this: I don’t want the world to lose any more, and I know I can’t do anything to stop it.

But I can be out here.

I can’t stand thinking about all of the time I’ve wasted in my life, being inside for days at a time, staring at screens, ignoring the birds, and barely acknowledging the breath of fresh air I get when I walk from the car to the grocery store and back. I need to be out here. I need to be out there. I need to get involved in the work of environmental advocacy in my community and in my country, but even as I do that I need to be out here filling my life with as many memories of this natural world, this spring, this kind of April, as I can.

Because Aprils like this won’t last forever.

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celebrate, but don’t close your eyes

A lot of my American friends are breathing a little easier now, sleeping a bit sounder, knowing that they no longer have a literal fascist wannabe-dictator in charge. I feel for them, and celebrate with them.

A lot of my American friends are still angry and hurt and have no reason to trust yet another rich old white man and a party that’s still dead centre on the political spectrum. Friends who can hardly put food on the table and can’t leave their houses even if there wasn’t a pandemic, because the streets are not safe for people who look like them. I feel for them too.

Joe Biden will do good, I’m sure. If he lives up to even half of what his inauguration speech said, he will hopefully bring some stability to the country. If he takes the sentiments of Amanda Gorman’s incredible poem to heart, maybe he will be able to create real change for the better.

But let’s not forget that North America’s idea of “liberal” is not actually progressive. North America’s idea of liberal (and yes, I’m including the Liberal party of Canada in this) is centre at best. It’s the bare minimum of adequacy. It’s making promises to try to pander to both sides, to look good and maintain support, and ultimately uphold and protect and value the capitalist colonial state above the lives and well-being of all people who live here.

Right-wing conservatives call Biden a leftist and a communist, but in European countries where free health care and free university are the norm, Biden’s policies are more in line with what they consider conservative. It’s a perspective thing: America is far behind other first world countries when it comes to basic human rights and equality. 

And Canada is just as bad. We’re just less populated and better at hiding our ugliness. Remember how relieved we were when Trudeau took over from Harper? Remember how many promises the Liberals made about education funding, environmental policies, indigenous reconciliation? Broken promises. 

It is naive to blindly trust that people in power have our best interests at heart, and it is a privilege to be able to. Political apathy is a privilege, period. If you open your eyes to the thousands of Canadians who are disabled, starving, Black, Indigenous, people of colour, religious minorities, homeless, unjustly incarcerated; if you see them and actually care, then you can’t just sit back and let things continue the way they are. If you actually care, you have to recognize the ways in which our country and our government fails, then stand up and demand that they do better. 

Not to mention, Canada is full of fascists too. The Proud Boys started in Canada. Violent white supremacy is allowed to prevail against indigenous communities while the RCMP just stand by and watch it happen (see: Nova Scotia). The Premier of Ontario is friends with known white supremacists and Proud Boys members, and supported Trump. There were Canadians in the Capitol riot two weeks ago. If you know a hardcore conservative or anyone who actually likes Doug Ford and thinks he’s a good leader, or supported Harper back in the day, you might want to take a long hard look at how they talk about and treat people different than themselves, because they’re probably a fascist. 

(Casual reminder that antifa is not some mysterious and dangerous hate group against white people: it’s just a short form of anti-fascist. And if you are not actively anti-fascist, you are fascist. Likewise if you are not actively anti-racist, you are racist. Period.)

How can we stand up and fight during a global pandemic when we all have to stay at home? I’ve struggled with that too. Here are some suggestions:

  • stay informed. follow activist organizations on social media, especially local ones. know what’s happening so that you know when and how to help.
  • share information, and share your thoughts and beliefs so that others have to reflect on their own. Example: this post.
  • if you can, donate to organizations and charities supporting human rights, indigenous land protection and reclamation, victims of police brutality, homeless and disabled people, and individual gofundme campaigns for struggling people and families. if you can’t afford to donate, share their information and encourage others to. contact the organizations and ask how you can help in other ways.
  • when you see someone saying or doing something harmful, online or in person. SAY SOMETHING. make them check themselves. if they are impossible to deal with, as many right-wing conservatives and similarly minded people are, block them and cut them out of your life. sometimes that is what it takes for someone to realize they are wrong, and if that doesn’t change their mind, there’s nothing you could have done for them anyway.
  • if you see something wrong in your community, your province or your country (harassment of homeless people, fascist/colonial symbolism, police brutality, etc.), contact your representatives and tell them, and share the information and encourage others to do the same. City Hall, MPs and MPPs, whoever makes sense in the situation. it’s literally their job to hear and act upon the needs and concerns of the people.
  • go to protests for the causes you believe in. put your body there in support. protests are a necessary part of society: they are proven to be the most effective way to show politicians what the people want, and create actual change. I know this is kind of a moot point while we’re in lockdown, but you can bet once this is over I’ll be out there. Heck even before then, if there is another local march for Black lives, or Land Back, or education, or anti-capitalism, or climate advocacy, I’ll be there, masked and ready. 
  • if you have other ideas, please share them as well. Being in a small rural town and having a lot of anxiety and no money makes me feel really useless in regards to activism a lot of the time, so I always want to know if I could be doing more.

I’ve rambled so long I’ve probably lost anyone reading this and got a bit away from my original point. My point is: it’s okay to celebrate and feel relieved that Joe Biden is now the president of the United States. It’s okay to appreciate incremental change. But then we need to take a deep breath and plunge back into the work of making this world better, and holding our leaders accountable if they’re not doing that work themselves.

And in case it isn’t abundantly clear: I am an anti-racist, anti-fascist, anti-colonial, anti-capitalist, young white settler who believes in the power of community, in socialism, free education, free healthcare, affordable housing, abolishing the police and the RCMP and defunding the military/returning them to the peacekeeping mission we claim they stand for, universal base income, women’s rights, trans rights, disability rights, and children’s rights. 

And before you say “but that’s fantasy, our country could never afford—“ please consider: billionaires should not exist. Billionaires are a product of the exploitation and oppression of workers: the grand illusion of capitalism. If our country’s billionaires wanted to stop hoarding wealth, or if the government decided to properly tax the top 1%, they could solve all of these things and still be wealthy. If every billionaire in the world turned socialist and worked with countries to built infrastructure and fund education and healthcare? World hunger = solved. It’s the distribution of wealth that’s the problem, not the lack of money or resources.

Also, you know, abolish the police and the RCMP and defund the military and reallocate all of that funding to social programs. Tada!

I know I am on the right side of history in this: it’s just a matter of whether the world can catch up with radical left before climate change and capitalism destroy us all. That’s what truly scares me.

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a long time coming (out)

Hi friends and family! Surprise! I’m not straight. I am proudly bisexual/biromantic and also identify strongly as queer. And there are still things I haven’t quite figured out yet!

Great, now that I got your attention, let’s talk about the history of Pride, the Black Lives Matter movement and the disproportionate injustices and discrimination against BIPOC communities through institutionalized racism, and why, as a white-cis-gay, mine is not the voice that needs to be heard during this Pride month.

Just a note: if you stop reading this at some point because you’re “tired” and it’s a “bummer” and you need a “break” from this conversation, you were just expecting a cute heartwarming post about Pride, check your privilege and ask yourself why you don’t care about Black lives.

So why am I writing this? Because a) hiding my sexuality from half the people in my life is negatively affecting my mental health; I need to come out so that I can be my full self in public and create safe spaces for those who look up to me to share their authentic selves, too. And b) I know that there are some people in my life who don’t care enough to get their heads out of the sand and seek out this information, and it is the responsibility of white allies to continually confront our ignorant loved ones until they too open their eyes.  Would I rather you listen to Black voices and believe their cries for justice? Of course I would, and I will be including links to where you can do just that. But it’s easy to be so cocooned in white privilege that you don’t see the truth or you choose to believe only what your white capitalist news sources choose to talk about or not talk about. It’s up to people within your network to break that cocoon. I’m writing this just in case I can be that person for you.

If you’re already one of those learning and doing the work, you don’t need to read this! Please, go listen to and uplift marginalized voices instead. This article is a great place to start and is full of resources to educate yourself and to take action.

Okay, back to those of you who don’t know what’s going on, or you do know and you don’t want to speak out or take action. Or you’re just curious about what I have to say! Here are the bare bones of what I’ve learned and what I am committed to fighting for from now on. I am ashamed that it has taken me this long to commit to being active in social justice issues, but now that I’m here I am determined to bring as many of my friends and family with me as possible.

  • Black people are disproportionately targeted by police brutality in America and always have been, not just in these moments when horrific videos of their murders go viral. Source.
  • Black and Indigenous people are disproportionately targeted and killed by police and RCMP in Canada too. Source. Source.
  • Read that again. If you’ve ever said “thank god we live in Canada” read that again. IT’S NOT JUST AMERICA.
  • Police as a system in North America is built on a foundation of racism. The American police system was built to catch and punish escaped slaves (Source) (Source), and the Canadian police system was built to finish colonizing this country by invading and destroying First Nations’ territories and enforcing the residential school system; and also used to criminalize and punish escaped slaves and free Black people alike. Source. Source. Yes, Canada had slavery too. Source. Source.
  • Civil rights are only ever moved forward through mass action and protests. The violence in the Civil Rights Movement and the Black Lives Matter Movement alike came and comes from the police (and often anti-protesters) first, and then from protesters trying to protect themselves. Change has only happened when the violence escalates enough that it gains national or global media attention. Source. Source. Source. Here are some of the changes that have begun since protests against police brutality began again a month ago.  Here’s what’s happened in Canada. Here is a timeline of the Black Lives Matter movement as a whole.

The above points are facts. Here are some points from my own reflections, feelings and corrections over the past month since this revolution caught global attention. These are the basics without elaboration because this post is already going to be far too long, but you can see more thoughts and learning sources in my “justice” highlights on my Instagram. All of my recent Facebook posts also involve reflections on these things.

  • If you are white, you have privilege. If you are able to take breaks from the news to protect your mental health, you have privilege. If you feel safe walking down the street, going shopping, stopping at a traffic light, sleeping in your own home, you have white privilege. If you think or say “not all cops”, that’s white privilege.
  • Being an ally does not erase my white privilege. I am not doing this to be “one of the good ones”, I am doing this because it’s high time that I stand up for what’s right. Here’s a good start for being an ally as a white person.
  • “You never arrive as an ally, you must continually practice allyship.” – @itsjacksonbbz on Twitter
  • Policing as an institution needs to be abolished. That starts with demilitarizing and then defunding police departments everywhere and reallocating that money to community foundations for housing, food, education, healthcare, and mental health care. Defunding police and putting money into the community is also necessary to build new structures to address emergencies and crime when they do occur. Policing does not work. I recommend: looking at your community’s police budget vs. the budget for healthcare, education, etc. Here’s a better explanation of the why and how of police abolition.
  • “For the record, cops aren’t supposed to kill guilty people either.” – @mhdksafa on Twitter
  • Cops kneeling at protests is at best, performative, and at worst, a deliberate distraction tactic to make white people feel better. IF YOU SHARE PHOTOS OF COPS KNEELING / MARCHING / HUGGING CHILDREN / WHATEVER. YOU ARE PART OF THIS PROBLEM. You are saying that these wannabe heroes are more important than the Black lives being threatened and destroyed every day.
  • White supremacy and capitalism go hand in hand. Dismantling white supremacy must also include dismantling capitalism, and moving into a world where communities are able to provide for the needs of their people and people work because they want to, not because they will otherwise starve and be homeless.
  • If you participated in #BlackoutTuesday by posting a black square and have done nothing since, YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT BLACK LIVES, YOU WERE FOLLOWING A TREND. Do better.
  • Are you ashamed? I am ashamed. I recognize that I have failed before–that I will continue to fail. But this time, I will not stop trying. The problem doesn’t go away just because you’ve stopped paying attention to it again.

White supremacy and anti-black racism, discrimination, and violence has been the norm for centuries; this is not a trend that we can hop onto for a few weeks in “support” and then forget about again. This will take the rest of our lives, and our children’s lives, and likely our children’s children’s lives, to completely dismantle. Here’s the video that made me realize this. It means working for justice in any way you can, forever. Making anti-racism work a part of your new normal. But the work of the past month and of movements in the past prove that things can be changed. We can’t end white supremacy tomorrow–there are too many bigots with too much power in the world. But we can check our white privilege every day and use it to speak out against racists in our friend and family circles. We can’t end capitalism tomorrow, there are too many misers with too much power in the world. But we can fight every day to create small and large changes in our communities, working towards those goals. The fight will not be over within our lifetime, but we can keep moving forward.

What does this all have to do with me coming out? Because the reason I am able to safely come out and be proud and celebrate Pride Month is because the way to LGBTQ+ liberation was paved by Black trans women (Source) (Source).

Without Black queer people, there would be no Pride. And Black trans people are the single most marginalized and targeted group for racism and violence from every part of society, especially Black trans women (Source) (Source). Hate crimes against trans people are a huge issue in Canada too (Source). Everyone in the LGBTQ+ community owes our freedom to the work of Black queer and trans folk. The least I can do is take this opportunity to educate the people in my life about these issues.

Today I am coming out to you as bisexual, but more importantly I am here to tell you that I am a newly radicalized activist pledging to be actively anti-racist, anti-police, anti-capitalist, and stand against injustice in whatever ways I can for the rest of my life. You may read this and stick your head back in the sand, but I will not close my eyes again. If at some point in the future you think I’ve forgotten this, please, call me out on it. 

On that note, PLEASE DO NOT PRAISE ME FOR THE WORK I PUT INTO THIS POST. I am simply compiling information and lessons I have learned from listening to Black people and Black organizations over the past month. Instead of praising me, share this with people who you think need to see it, or use the information in it to start fighting racism and injustice around you in your own life.

If you made it this far, you probably want to help. At least, I hope so.
Want to know more and learn from the people I’ve been learning from? Here are a bunch of links where you can do that, and that site also has many resources for how to help. Here’s the Canadian chapter if you want to support directly. I will make another post later this week with a list of things I’ve been doing to stay informed and change my own life to be actively anti-racist, but in the mean time I share everything I come across on my Instagram and Twitter (don’t just follow me, or don’t even follow me, follow the accounts I am sharing, please.)

Thank you.

just a phase

I found this at Michael’s and my roommate and I thought it was hilarious that someone designed a journal in bi pride colours with the text ‘just a phase’. Anyway, my bisexuality is not a phase, and neither is my belief in and determination to fight systemic racism.

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where have i been? a year’s journey in mental health

Hi there.

It’s been a while. Over a year, in fact. But if there’s ever a time to get back to something you’ve been “meaning to do” for ages, it’s now. When the world is in the process of so much change, so much upheaval, and I am one of those lucky ones who can stay home safe with all of this time on my hands. But this post is not about the pandemic.

I’ve been meaning to write this blog post for ages.

The past year since I last wrote on this page has been a year of change and growth for me–growing through crises, growing closer to and further away from people in my life, growing into my own image of myself. And I’m not done yet–not even close. But I’m ready to start talking about it more, I think. This is the beginning of that. And, knowing me, perhaps the only thing I’ll write for many months again! Or perhaps not. I also don’t really have a plan for this post, so if it’s less coherent than usual–well I say that every time I write, don’t I! Let’s just see what happens.

2019 was a bad year for me, but I needed it to move forward.

I once wrote a whole post about how it’s hard to see that you’re in a dark tunnel until you get out of it–or it least, it’s hard to see that there’s light at the end.  I didn’t realize until the end of the year that 2019 was my dark tunnel.  There’s no one reason why 2019 was bad for me–stress and anxiety and old still-not-dealt-with grief and self-doubt piled up and I shoved my feelings aside and pushed through, as usual. But this practice of putting everything else in my life (my work, my projects, my hobbies, my relationship) ahead of my own wellbeing and happiness was bound to catch up with me sometime.

In 2019, I stopped eating healthy. I stopped playing and experimenting with cooking, or even having the energy to cook basic nutritious meals.  Luckily my partner at the time would cook almost every day so as long as he was home and in the mood for cooking, I was fine. But I felt bad for not contributing; I told myself I was lazy. And there were days where all I ate was a can of cold beans and tomato sauce.

In 2019, I exercised only as much as it took to physically teach dance classes; I did nothing on my own, I hardly even went for any walks. I stopped crafting, I struggled to enjoy reading, I struggled to shower regularly. I hardly slept; 5 hours/night became a luxury. I did what was necessary to keep up the illusion that I was okay, and to be able to run my business professionally and not let slip that anything was wrong. Well, I didn’t know anything was wrong! I told myself all of it was my own laziness. Why am I like this now? I would berate myself. I used to be so much better at life.

I called myself annoying and “a disaster human”, told myself I was undeserving of the good things in my life, was wasting all of the incredible luck and privilege and opportunity I had. I thought this was normal and in order to be unselfish I had to treat myself horribly.

I have lived my life in absolute dread of being thought of as selfish.

I was so stressed in the summer of 2019 that my cycles went awry–49 days of period followed by another month of on-and-off. Even when the stress lessened a bit with a very positive start to the studio year in September, I still struggled with all of those other things, and continued to berate myself every day for not having the energy to “be better”. I felt constantly anxious or on the verge of tears, but I didn’t think I deserved to complain about my problems, so I distracted myself with podcasts and games and shows and got annoyed at myself for wasting so much time. I learned what a real full-fledged panic attack felt like–more than once. And I still told myself it was unwarranted.

I got into this weird habit of getting “stuck” at the studio every night after classes. If I ever let myself sit down when all of the kids left–whether on the bench, the stairs, the floor–I would end up sitting there for up to 45 minutes or an hour sometimes, doing absolutely nothing but staring into space and feeling completely drained both physically and emotionally. Keeping up with 4-5 hours of teaching–having to be bright and positive and motivating and “on” as well as on my feet and moving–on very little sleep and not much nutrition–was beginning to grate on me. And I hated that! I love the studio with my whole heart, teaching dance is my passion, why was it suddenly so hard? I must be lazy and stupid and in the wrong career, I told myself.

Do you see where I’m going with this?

What got me through?

Friends. First, my beautiful and beloved irl friends–time spent with them is a scatter of bright spots across 2019 in my head; hiking, long drives, the post-dance show cottage weekend tradition, dancing in front of the Down By The Bay stage at Summerfolk, my town’s tiny Pride parade, long late night video chats with my best friend in New Zealand, spending hours in Elora Gorge until past sunset, crafternoons and ukulele jams and anime binge-watching… and so many hugs, though nobody knew how much I needed them. And then, also, in 2019 I happened to join an online community for my favourite podcast (Friends at the Table) and made some absolutely wonderful online friends from there. Over the year we grew very close, supporting and loving each other through life’s crises and panic and tears.

Dance. There is truly no way to fully explain the degree to which being a dance studio director kept me going through the worst parts of 2019. Having projects and events to work on and look forward to, spending time with all of these wonderful and beautiful and caring and enthusiastic dancers who I love and who love me–teaching, creating together, sharing in the love of this art form!  In 2019 the studio grew again, I completed a ballet teacher training course I’d been working on for two years, I had a clean sweep of highly commended highland exams, I saw my students grow and improve and feel good about their dancing, I put on the show I am most proud of to date. I mentioned earlier that keeping the studio going and keeping up the illusion that I was strong and capable and happy and motivated (being “on” all the time) was starting to wear on me by the end of the year, but it’s also true that the worst anxiety days were always brightened by my hours spent teaching, and knowing that all of these dancers and their families counted on me and believed in me was the number one reason why I got out of bed in the morning. Hands down.

Games. In 2019 I discovered the magical world of tabletop roleplaying games. I joined a community (a sub-set of the fan community mentioned earlier) and fell absolutely in love with this world; I don’t have the words to describe the particular sort of fulfillment that comes from telling stories collaboratively and creatively through roleplaying games. Throughout the year I became more and more involved in the community–I went from dabbling once or twice a month to playing three or four games per week to joining the mod team on the Discord server where the community lives. Not only did it help to distract and bring happiness and social time to my life, but it set me up with another wonderful way to pass all of this time in the new unexpected lifestyle that 2020 has thrust us into.

So I guess what I’m saying is that though 2019 was bad, there really were a lot of good things in it, for which I am so, so grateful.

What got me out?

Pure and simple: I reached out. When all of this culminated in a week of meltdown after meltdown after panic attack, I asked for help. I talked to a mentor who means the world to me, and through that conversation I realized what my friends had been telling me for months; that by putting everything ahead of myself, I was hurting more than just myself, and I was getting very close to burning out completely. December was a month of talking things out, of shifting my life around, of healing and of recognizing the most important thing that I had never realized before: that I am a person just like everyone, and treating myself the way I did in my own brain was not normal and was not healthy.

And then I started going to therapy. About time!

When something hurts, when something is wrong, when you are not happy, don’t tell yourself it’s your fault, don’t tell yourself that talking about it is selfish and attention-seeking and makes you a bad person. Find someone you trust, and talk about it.

2020. 

Obviously, this year has turned out differently than any of us were expecting. But I’ve been venting for over an hour (if you are still reading this, thank you, and wow) and I want to finish by sharing some positive things that have happened this year.

Friends: Despite being physically apart from my friends now, in some ways I feel closer to them than ever. One of my friends and I started doing monthly phone calls in January and haven’t lost our streak yet. Some of my friends and I have connected through group calls playing Jackbox games or Animal Crossing or baking cupcakes in our own separate kitchens. My best friend in New Zealand and I have done more video calls than usual and started watching movies together that way. My best friend in Utah and I have a new routine of early morning calls which help both of us get up early and start the day on a positive note. Two of my other very close friends and I have started having important conversations about how we can make our friendship better and healthier. And I have to mention my roommate, who is also one of my very best friends, and everything that we have been through together this year as well as working through how to be good friends and good roommates at the same time! Haha.  And I’ve made new friends too, new friends who fill my heart with love and joy, like my friend who I spent my birthday weekend in Toronto with! I am constantly, to be honest, quite overwhelmed with love for my friends and gratitude for my good fortune in having them a part of my life.

Games: I just want to give a quick shoutout again to this community of tabletop roleplaying games; my love for it has not dwindled at all this year! One of the highlights of 2020 so far was when our server ran a 72 hour livestream charity event in March–being a part of that was absolutely incredible! (If you’re curious, all of the games are available to watch on the server’s YouTube channel; I’m in games 5, 10, and 15. just a lil plug..)

Dance!! This year was supposed to be a very exciting year for the studio–I was working on a show that was filled with some of the most creative choreography I’ve ever done; I saw dancers growing with leaps and bounds; all of my ballet dancers were getting close to being fully prepared for RAD exams; we had the most turn out at a Parents’ Association meeting that we’ve had in years; and I started dancing a lot more myself as well, with solo practice and regular practice with a dear friend. And even now during quarantine–I’ve been teaching online classes (the support and encouragement from my dance families has been incredible!), working on a studio video project (coming out in June, fingers crossed!), and taking dance classes myself, often two or three times a week. The dance community is amazing: so many companies and individual dancers offering free classes over Instagram Live or YouTube; plus my favourite ballet teacher from university has been teaching weekly online classes in collaboration with my favourite accompanist, which has been so wonderful to take part in. Of course I can’t wait to get back into the studio with all of my wonderful dancers who I miss so much, but I’m glad that dance is still very much in my life even now.

Therapy: Okay, I know this post is going on and on and on, I promise I’m wrapping it up. But I can’t leave without mentioning that yes! Everyone was right! Therapy is so, so good and important, and everyone should go. It took me years to finally get there, but thank goodness. I have a wonderful therapist and I have been learning so much about why my brain works the way it does, and how to navigate my own thoughts and feelings, as well as being validated in the things I doubted and learning to see myself as a person who deserves better than what I was giving myself. Maybe I’ll write another post more about that specific aspect later, because there’s definitely more I have to say about it…

But for now, I have definitely written enough and I will be very surprised if anyone made it this far! Clearly I have been missing this and I shouldn’t leave it for so long… let’s keep this writing thing up, shall we? In the meantime… stay safe & stay connected! And be sure to get lots of fresh air.

I’ll be back soon this time, for sure. 🌼

IMG_20200522_150202IMG_20200522_153451

 

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a little help remembering

Five years ago I had this idea for sometime in the future if I ever got a tattoo.  I didn’t know if it was anything I’d ever go through with.  It’s a bit of a scary thing.  It’s also a thing that a lot of people have opinions about, and I still haven’t gotten over worrying about what people think of me.  For some reason, a month or so ago, I finally decided to do it… and I booked the appointment.  And today…

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by @gianinatattooer (on insta) at Ink & Water

… well, today has been a rollercoaster of emotions. I’ve been panicking a bit the past few days, despite the fact that I’ve been thinking about this tattoo for 5 years and preparing myself for a month. But I realized this morning that the thing I’m worried about isn’t the tattoo–it’s my fear of other people thinking it’s stupid because it’s so basic and people don’t know the meaning behind it.  So here is the meaning behind it.

It’s the words my mom and I used to say to each other before bed every night. It’s the last thing I said to her on the phone, the night before she died. I look at it, and I can almost imagine her voice saying the words.

The past few hours since I got it I’ve been so so happy, and also a little giddy . First-tattoo-adrenaline, I guess. But a few minutes ago I just looked at it and realized that every time I look at my wrist for the rest of my life, I’m going to think of my mom.

And that’s exactly the point, that’s exactly why I wanted this–the past 2 years especially I’ve been scared of forgetting because of how much less often I think about her. The worst part of grief, for me, is the forgetting.

So if I can look at these words, and almost find her voice in my head again… maybe I shouldn’t worry what anybody else thinks.  This realization, that these words are going to remind me of my mom every day, is emotional… but it’s a good emotion.

I need a little help remembering…

it’s just going to take some getting used to.

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idhren glîr odo: the balloon

I haven’t done a lot of writing lately.  Not because I haven’t had time, but because I’ve been distracted by other things.  I’d like to start writing poetry again, it’s been a long time… Anyway, here’s another old one from creative writing class that I realized I never shared.  The assignment was an object poem, using an object as a metaphor for a human experience or emotion.

The Balloon

it’s red of course, though the ribbon’s white
round, yes
but not a sphere
slightly resistant to the sliding touch
pliable yes
but not too much
tight with too-close, stuffy air
lungs waiting to burst
full, too full
like a breath in with no exhale

but then

bang! flat and empty again
empty like new, but not new
broken

torn

when he calls I tell him of my day
before he can speak but when he does
his voice catches in a mess of water and air
she’s gone he says

she’s gone

a gasp becomes a sigh
a sigh becomes nothing
a choking, a pain,
a tear
as together
in the quiet
we deflate

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Dear Mom

October 9th, 2018

Hi.

Today marks 5 years since the day you passed away, and I… don’t want to be sad on this day anymore.  At least, not all day.  Just as much as every other day you’ve been gone.  Last year I spoke to you out loud, in my car, on the way home from a weekend away.  I told you about the big life changes that had happened to me that year, and how I thought you’d feel about them.  I felt a little bit silly doing it, but that didn’t stop me from talking for at least 15 minutes.

This year I decided to write to you instead.  I have some thoughts and feelings to work out, and I tend to do that better in writing than out loud.

It’s been 5 years, and I don’t think about you every day anymore.  Often, yes, but not daily, multiple times a day, like I used to.  And when I do, I feel guilty and sad, as if I’ve forgotten you–which I haven’t–of course I haven’t.  But this is what has changed: I am no longer able to imagine what my life would be like now if you were still here.  I can’t.  I used to, in the first couple of years, imagine our conversations around certain events, what you’d think of new friends I’d made, how you’d react to some of my life choices (if I would have even made those same life choices?).  But now, it’s just been too long so many things have happened that have changed who I am and the way I live that I can’t imagine what you would think or feel if you were still here.

I don’t know if this makes any sense.  I think I’m rambling a little bit; let’s get back to where we started this thought.  I don’t want October 9th to be a sad day anymore.  I’ve written before about how arbitrary that date already felt, being so disconnected from the day we actually lost you.  And now the date means something else to me–it is the birthday of someone I love very, very much.  So I want it to be a happy day.

Is that okay?  Is it okay to want to celebrate even though it’s the anniversary of the day you passed away?  Is it okay to be happy most of the time and try to remember you with joy rather than grief?  I guess that’s what I’m writing to ask and try to figure out.  And as for the date, October 9th is not really a date I want to associate with you, because there was nothing good about that date for you or us.  I would so much rather celebrate you at Christmas and Mother’s Day and your birthday, and all of the other days of the year when the slightest thing reminds me of you.

All of this being said (and I’m probably completely contradicting myself now), I know I will still think about you around this time every year and feel the pain again–that’s something I can’t control.  What I would like to do is try to actively turn that pain into joy and celebration–not block it out… What am I trying to say?  I think I just want to cry when I need to cry, but try to stop feeling guilty when I’m happy on days like today.

Five years in and I still don’t really know how to grieve.  Maybe I should try to celebrate more instead.  This year I celebrated your birthday by making a playlist of all of your favourite music (or what I knew of it based on what we listened to growing up) and while there were a few tears, what I feel while listening to this playlist is usually overwhelmingly happy and nostalgic.  It brings back such good memories.  I want to do more of that: more collecting and sharing of good memories.

I don’t know how to end this.  I don’t know if I’ll write something like this again (if I do, it might just be in my journal).  I guess I’ll just say…

Love you forever,
Adela

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my fave is problematic.

Disclaimer: I love Harry Potter with all my heart.

Those who know me know that the Harry Potter books, stories, and magical world are the closest things to my heart fictionally speaking, and have been since I was very small.  I can attribute 99% of my friendships to a mutual love of the wizarding world, and I was once the Head of the Department of Mysteries for York University’s Ministry of Magic; our resident expert on real (aka book) trivia, Chapter liason for the Harry Potter Alliance, etc.. I am a proud Gryffindor.  I still reread the entire series almost every year (I am currently working my way through them in French).

I have also been known to refer to J. K. Rowling as “Our Queen” as many in the fandom like to do when some new brilliant bit of cleverness is discovered in the books or she does something wonderful in the world.  There can be no denying that the Harry Potter books and franchise have made the world a brighter, happier, and better place for billions of people.  There is no denying that Jo Rowling has done some pretty good things for the world herself, including founding the non-profit Lumos and at one point donating so much to charity that she was reduced from billionaire to millionaire status (this was a while ago. pretty sure she’s back to being a billionaire again).

But sometimes we need to take a deep breath and recognize that our heroes are not always right.  They have flaws.  They make mistakes.  They get lost.

Diversity & Lack Thereof

Newcomers to the books and fandom have been critical of some lack of diversity in Jo’s writing of the Harry Potter books.  We do have to give her some credit in recalling that she did write the first book and the outline for the entire series in the early 90’s.  Times were different then.  In our current cultural atmosphere of “extremely woke”, these criticisms by younger readers are understandable.  I am referring mainly to the critique of the lack of sexual and gender diversity in the characters; Dumbledore, the only non-hetero person apparently in the entire series, was never explicitly “out” in the books; it only became public knowledge when Jo revealed it soon after the publication of the 7th book.

I myself do not blame Jo Rowling for this particular lack of diversity, because she had trouble enough publishing the first book as it was–a children’s book about witchcraft?? written by a woman?? the horror!!–I imagine adding even one openly gay character to a children’s book in the 90’s would have stopped every publisher from even considering it.  Here is a discussion of what Jo would have been up against in Britain at that time.  So no, I am not angry with Jo Rowling for all of the characters throughout the books appearing to be straight–but I am a little miffed that those characters whose identities were vague could not have become more diverse when she did her later “reveals” on Pottermore.  If you were wondering, she revealed all of them (Dean, Seamus, Luna, Neville, etc.) to be straight.  That was already into the 2010s and the books were over, she could have done anything but it apparently didn’t cross her mind that more than one non-hetero person could exist in Hogwarts/the British wizarding world.

Anyway, that’s just a little miff, and I can look past it (though I can’t blame any of my LGBTQ+ friends for being less forgiving).  The second critique I’ve been seeing more recently is regarding cultural and ethnic diversity–if you look past the Golden Trio (Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all white–headcanons aside) and the Silver Trio (Ginny, Neville, and Luna, all white), the cast of characters in Hogwarts is fairly racially diverse.  However I recently saw this slam poem pointing out the flaws and apparently lazy writing that made up the series’ lone Chinese character, Cho Chang, and it gave me pause.

I think a lot of the things that people nowadays, including myself, critique regarding Jo Rowling’s writing of the wizarding world (especially as it continues to expand with stories happening outside of Britain) can be attributed to lazy writing or lack of research.  This is deeply upsetting and frustrating when the intricacies and tightly woven subplots and complexity and well-roundedness of the entire story throughout the 7 books prove that J. K. Rowling is perfectly capable of excellent writing that is the opposite of lazy.

The Problem With Ilvermorny

Up until now I have been writing about some things that I have heard and read in the past few years that have irked me, but now I’m going to get into the things that really started to make me lose faith in J. K. Rowling as she is today.  I still whole-heartedly love who she was when she was releasing all of the original Harry Potter books, but I think since then the wizarding world (both the fictional one and the one created by the fandom) has grown far to large for one person to be able to supply all of the “canon” stories and people and identities and cultures to fill it.  The last new stories I was entirely happy and excited about were the ones surrounding the Quidditch World Cup in 2014.  Back then the Pottermore stories still felt true to the world, pure and fun and unproblematic.  At this point, however, I’d be happy if Jo stopped posting her post-Hogwarts “reveals” and stories on Pottermore–the books are done, the books are ours now, and I think it’s up to the fans to choose what journeys their favourite characters might have gone on to next.

The first time I was truly taken aback and disappointed by Jo Rowling’s new writings was when she released the information on the American wizarding school Ilvermorny in anticipation of the Fantastic Beasts films.  Her history of the school and explanation of the Ilvermorny houses was stylistically exactly the way she wrote all of the British and European wizarding world content; it was therefore entirely ignorant of actual American history.  One of the wonderful things about the wizarding world of Harry Potter is that Jo always tied the magical history to actual British and European history, pointing out real historical figures as being magical, turning mythological creatures into real creatures, etc.

Which is all well and good when you’re writing about your own culture, but becomes problematic when you think you can do the same thing with other people’s cultures, especially when those cultures are already oppressed, misused, and appropriated in a million different ways.  If you look at the description and history of Ilvermorny you will see that it is founded by British settlers in America, in particular a witch and her children who stormed in over Indigenous territory and built the school in the style of Hogwarts, naming the four houses after four magical creatures that they encountered in the new world.  The problem with these creatures, however, is that they are all modelled after actual spirits which are sacred and significant to four different First Nations peoples.  Jo Rowling also went so far as to say that the First Nations peoples did have their own magic, but that it was unorganized and primitive until the Western wizards arrived to bring some order to things.  Now, if I read this without thinking about the author I can still see it as canon because it seems exactly the sort of thing colonial wizards would do, behaving with just the same sort of superiority and dismissiveness as actual colonists in history–but while I can fit it that way into the overall canon of the wizarding world in my head, it does not excuse Jo for writing it the way she did.

td;lr Ilvermorny is founded upon cultural appropriation and it is not okay.  This critique explains it in a lot more detail.

I don’t think Jo Rowling meant any harm by it, she just didn’t do enough research (aka talk to any Indigenous people about the significance and potential impact of this) to know that writing about Thunderbirds and Wampus is not the same thing as writing about dragons and banshees and other Western mythological creatures.  I think it’s pretty sad that nobody in her entire team managed to catch the error in this, and I also think it’s pretty sad that Jo Rowling has failed to comment, when the critique has surely been raised to her by now.

Fantastic Beasts and Disappointment

Fantastic Beasts 2: The Crimes of Grindelwald
Crime #1: Casting Johnny Depp as Grindelwald

The final straw that broke any present-day faith I had in my one-time hero and idol J. K. Rowling was her continued support of Johnny Depp in his role as Grindelwald after the mess of abuse allegations and divorce proceedings that went down last year.  If you don’t know about this, just look it up any pop culture news source from 2016-17.  I’m not going over the entire story but basically Johnny Depp was accused of physical and verbal abuse by his (at the time) wife Amber Heard and after a long time their divorce was settled along with a statement from both of them that made the abuse allegations out to be less serious.  Now I and many other people took this to mean that the abuse did happen but they were both putting it behind them.  J. K. Rowling seems to have decided to align with those who say the abuse never happened at all.

I obviously don’t know enough about it to be certain either way, but I think given the evidence, the statements, and the fact that celebrities break under the strain all the time and Johnny Depp seems exactly the type… At any rate there is likely more than a grain of truth in the allegations .  The point is that there have been calls for Johnny Depp to step down or be fired from the cast of Fantastic Beasts (it would be simple enough as he was only seen for about 30 seconds in the first film) but they went unanswered and J. K. Rowling has openly stated her support of Johnny Depp in this role.  I recently read an article in which she commented on the complaints and defended the casting of Johnny Depp, and not only do I not agree with that being “the right thing to do”, but the fact that she says she’s happy to have him continue in the role… I have no more words, to be honest.

There are other reasons why I don’t want to see the second Fantastic Beasts film but they aren’t really relevant.  Aside from the whole Ilvermorny business/American wizarding society completely excluding Indigenous peoples except to appropriate their culture, which I’ve already discussed long enough, I think.

So now what?

So now that I have lost faith in the one whom I once called “Queen”, now that everything she creates for the HP universe from now on will be tainted with these disappointments in my eyes, can I still love the original work that has brought so much joy and empowerment and friendship into my life?  Can I still admire the person who J. K. Rowling was back when she wrote those seven beautiful, life-changing books?

Yes, I can.  I can still love the stories I have always loved, the characters I have always loved.  I can still get lost in the world alone in my room or discuss theories and plot points and headcanons with friends for hours on end.  I can still say I’m a proud Gryffindor and dress up in a robe and house tie and practice duelling with my custom-made Allivan’s wand, dream of opening an HPA chapter in my hometown, read the Harry Potter books to my kids when I have them.

I just have to enjoy all of these things out of the context of their creator from now on.  I just have to say “books belong to their readers” and stop taking every new mistake J. K. Rowling makes to heart.  She gave so much goodness to the world, and I’m not about to let her take it away from me just because she’s become to wrapped-up in it and overwhelmed and blinded by fame and fortune.

My fave is problematic.  It’s taken me a while to admit it to myself because I was worried it would make me like the books less, or feel guilty liking them, but I think the best thing to do is acknowledge the problem and move on, choosing new role models for writing, and continuing to find joy in the magical world I have loved and learned from since I was 8 years old.

beach wizard