First I learn the names of the bus and subway stops. Dundas West Lansdowne Dufferin Ossington Christie Bathurst Spadina St George. They sound poetic like that, a reassuring settling sound at the end.
I read a book set in Australia which features a town called Bathurst. So India Canada Australia clearly all have British colonialism inscribed in their bodies. Lansdowne, Uttarakhand, India. Bathurst, Australia. Later a conversation about First Nations and their struggles to reclaim land in Canada leads to the realisation - we are not in the postcolonial moment here, we are in a still actively colonial one. The question of historical reparations and reconciliation is still far away here.
I learn that I will always be a last minute preparer. I learn to be the less-than-amazing teacher I am in my head. I learn to knit.
Breathe, it's only been a month, I tell myself. You have a lot of time before you can have the social life you like.
And I ask questions. What is the deal with hand cream. What is nuit blanche. What are family bathrooms. Why do the binders have three rings and not two/four. Why is it Mississaugas 'of the New Credit'. When is it daylights savings. Where can I buy cheap boots.
And I ask myself - how is it that you, as a so-called actively political person supposedly attuned to racist and sexist conversations, manage to miss the ignorant, masquerading as interest, racist conversation when it is personally directed at you.
I read a book set in Australia which features a town called Bathurst. So India Canada Australia clearly all have British colonialism inscribed in their bodies. Lansdowne, Uttarakhand, India. Bathurst, Australia. Later a conversation about First Nations and their struggles to reclaim land in Canada leads to the realisation - we are not in the postcolonial moment here, we are in a still actively colonial one. The question of historical reparations and reconciliation is still far away here.
I learn that I will always be a last minute preparer. I learn to be the less-than-amazing teacher I am in my head. I learn to knit.
Breathe, it's only been a month, I tell myself. You have a lot of time before you can have the social life you like.
And I ask questions. What is the deal with hand cream. What is nuit blanche. What are family bathrooms. Why do the binders have three rings and not two/four. Why is it Mississaugas 'of the New Credit'. When is it daylights savings. Where can I buy cheap boots.
And I ask myself - how is it that you, as a so-called actively political person supposedly attuned to racist and sexist conversations, manage to miss the ignorant, masquerading as interest, racist conversation when it is personally directed at you.
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