Stuck in the Middle (East) with You

Monday, August 26, 2013

Taking Mom to the UAE

I have taken a pause from my blog over the summer due to my travels in Ireland and Canada. I am leaving Canada to go back to the UAE tomorrow, but this time I'm bringing my Momma with me!! Mom is coming to visit, sightsee and attend my wedding at the end of September. She has flown once when she was 11 and it was within Canada. So, this is obviously a big trip for her! My sister and I (who has visited once) have been trying to counsel my Mom on what to expect when coming to the UAE. Here are some of those types of conversations here...

Weather: You know that feeling when you open an oven that's been preheated to 500 degrees and it blasts in your face? Yeah, that's how it feels. We will be doing nothing outside. Nothing.

Clothing: Wear clothes that cover your shoulders and to the knee. But no matter what you do, dudes will still check out your ankles. You'll feel weird about it too.

Driving: When we get in the car, close your eyes. Do not open them till we reach our destination. Ignore all the swearing and honking I will undoubtedly do.

Shopping: "Can I get ___________ in Dubai?" The answer is always yes. Unless you are referring to Swiss Chalet. Then, devastatingly, no. Bonus, you may win a Lamborghini while shopping.

Language: You may occasionally have trouble understanding people because of their accents, I'll help you out there. If they call you habibi it's a good thing. If they tell you Inshallah, it ain't gonna happen, ever. You will be able to identify the filipinos easily, they sing when they talk. They're awesome.

Fuel: "How much is gas really?" It would be more expensive to fill my car with Pepsi.

Travel: "What will happen when we arrive at the airport?" We will get off the plane, then come to a screeching halt at immigration. There will be hundreds of people, no matter what time of day. There will be two, MAYBE three dudes working at the counter. Working is a loose term. Mostly they chat, drink tea and then go on break or shut down the counters and leave us all standing there. You get to the counter, they don't usually talk to you at all, they point to the little box to scan your eyeballs and then welcome you to the country. Proceed to pick up bags, proceed outside into oven.

Prices of things: THERE'S NO TAX! *happy dance*

Camels: "Will I see them?" Yes, and even more so, you will smell them :)

Alcohol/partying: "Do people drink? Is there partying?" Uhhhhhhmmmm, yes. Many teachers MAY enjoy a drink and a jig on the weekend. Every....weekend....

Should be an interesting trip...



Wednesday, June 5, 2013

A very UAE Graduation

Always a fun occasion (sort of) I feel it would be an injustice to fail to share my story about Grade 12 graduation at an Emirati school, with you. First things first. It's not really a graduation. All of the grade 12 students attend it, even though their marks have not been submitted and they have not written final exams, so they don't even know if they have passed. That would seem really ridiculous, except everyone passes anyways-so it really doesn't matter.

It is best to start with a description of the little graduates themselves. These are young Muslim girls who cover their face in public, wear the same frumpy uniform every day covering them from head to toe and aren't allowed to wear make-up, nail polish or even a fancy hair clip to school. That all goes entirely out the window when it comes to graduation. They go from looking like this:

(Picture from the internet-NOT my students)

To this:

Also their dresses look like this:


So once you get past the sweet little Muslim girls looking like drag queens, you see the area they have set up for the buffet. The whole cafeteria has been set up wedding style and all the tables are covered in golden crushed velvet table cloths and place settings with gold cutlery. I didn't get a picture of it either, but picture everything covered in this:


So we go into the graduation and they play the song that cost them 5000 dirhams ($1400) to get recorded for the graduates to walk into the room. The best part is that the teachers running the grad couldn't figure out how to properly hook up the laptop to the audio system so it would play through the speakers, so they had to hold a microphone to the laptop so everyone could hear the song. $1400 worth of feedbacky, echoey, scratchy song. Nailed it.

The students come in and they play a few poorly made slideshows while the parents all around talk, answer their cellphones, get up and walk around...etc. Do everything except watch the graduation. You'd think if you were coming to your child's graduation, that you could turn your phone on silent! Apparently not. 

There were some parents who really did care very much about their daughters graduating. There was some light applause for most students, but a couple kid's parents stood up and shouted CONGRATULATIONS! (in Arabic) and whooped it up while their kid went on stage. I love to see that!

Us English teachers stayed for most of the graduation, even though it was entirely in Arabic (that's dedication right there!) and we tried to get up to leave after the graduates had all left the auditorium, only to find out they had LOCKED US IN! They locked the parents and teachers in so that no one could leave before the program was over. Fire safety issue? Nah. Emergency exit plan? No need. It's way more important that you stay and watch this 4 hour graduation.

All in all, they tried their very best to make the graduation special for the students and that is what really matters. I did have a feeling of pride when I saw my students (some of whom I have taught for two years) walk across the stage. I enjoyed being there to celebrate with them, but I also had to share the story with you...because it is yet another Only in the UAE kind of situation.




Saturday, May 25, 2013

This one time that I accidentally ended up at a brothel...

I had a busy weekend which spurred lots of 'only in the UAE' moments. These are the moments that remind me that I am truly in wonderland, lost down the rabbit (camel) hole..perhaps never to find my way back. Sometimes the UAE offers little lovely surprises such as scoring a 5 star, gorgeous hotel for super cheap. That happened this weekend. It had lovely rooms, a beautiful pool and you could even call down to reception to request custom types of pillows. You KNOW I did that. Eff yeah. "Pillow Menu" on the bed with 6 different choices= Only in the UAE.

Sometimes, though, the surprises are less fun. I booked a really great deal for a "four star dinner cruise" on the Dubai Creek this weekend. It promised "gourmet food, henna painting and live entertainment!" Well, gee wiz, sign me up! Right? Wrong. We arrived to find awkwardly arranged, slightly soiled tables crammed on the deck of a boat. And about 100 people and their 50 screaming children. How incredibly romantic...

We decided to try to make the best of it, and it was going okay until we got to the buffet. I would say I could not identify about 75% of it and that's not because it was such fancy dishes that I'd never heard of before. The "live entertainment" consisted of an early Eminem CD which they blasted for about an hour. I may have heard about too many bitches, hos and bottle poppin', even for me. This all while, sitting amongst non-English speaking Arab Muslims and traditional Indian families who have no idea what their three year olds are dancing to. I wonder who brought that CD? Of all the CDs...

It only managed to get better when the Eminem CD finished, and they put on the BackStreet Boys Millenium CD. I did kind of enjoy that, but seriously...did they travel back in time to get their CDs? Did they raid my CD shoe box from when I was 12? Only in the UAE.

So I thought that would be enough excitement for one weekend..but boy, was I wrong. I booked a couples massage finding yet another great deal online (note to self: STOP BOOKING GREAT DEALS ONLINE!) We drove from the lovely area our hotel was in to find out that the hotel where I had booked our massage was in the ghetto of Dubai. Yes, there is a ghetto in Dubai. It is where the lesser paid expats live and work. So I thought, how bad can it be? Maybe the hotel is just old. Old it was. Yes. But it could be very, very, bad.

We got up to the "spa" on the second floor. I put the word spa in quotes because I immediately knew something was wrong when I walked in and the walls were sparkly and it was completely dark, save pink christmas lights lining the ceiling. The lady at the desk seemed surprised to see us and even more surprised when I asked her for a double room. She left for a while and came back and asked my dear, already-weirded out fiancee: "You want Chinese, Thai, or Indian" I assumed she meant the type of massage, but I later realized she was asking him which nationality of woman he wanted. He was confused by the question, so I answered "Thai", not catching on at the time. She said ok and went back into the back room. 

I also looked around and noticed that there were only single men there (most of whom are from a country who are renowned for travelling and exploiting women in poorer countries..I'll leave you to guess which country...) and I started to get very suspicious. My suspicions were confirmed when the two Thai girls came out and said "Please, come on, Sir" to my fiancee and when I stood up with him they just glared at me. As we walked down the hallway, I looked into the rooms and noticed that oddly, there were no massage tables but instead DOUBLE MATTRESSES ON THE FLOOR! Right. Luckily they led us to a room with two massage tables and it was covered with that tear off hospital bed sheet stuff, so I assumed it was at least fresh *shudder* 

I laid down, to commence the worst massage experience of my life. The girls kept randomly leaving during the massage and kept talking in Thai and giggling. Eventually I told them to be quiet (because I assume they were making fun of us in their own language) or I would leave and they managed to stop and just finish the massage. They used bottles of Johnson and Johnson baby oil for the massages. Pretty Legit. I considered leaving twice, but I figured we were already there and I had no way of getting my money back since I bought the deal online, we should just stay and get massaged. The physical massage itself was not all that bad, I was just surprised they didn't ask us if we wanted a happy ending. I did wonder why they were so bitchy to us, I mean, we are pretty easy clients..no sexual favours needed! Just straight up massage. But I guess we wouldn't be paying any extra for anything...well...extra...so they were probably pissed about that. The whole thing was sad and I felt bad for the women, but I also felt bad for me lol.

So, I learned my lesson from this-I will never book anything online without first reading reviews or say, even typing the name into Google. I say this because, I came home and started to type in the name of the hotel "Astoria Hotel Dubai..." and it auto-populated the top results:

Astoria Hotel Dubai Prostitutes
Astoria Hotel Dubai Girls

Fuck my life. Seriously?!

I clicked on the reviews to see what people had said on trip advisor, and here are two of my favourites:

"Seedy Brothel"

This hotel is u're basic seedy prostitute pick up point. Although on their site they've advertised Sur Sangam as live indian entertainment club, its nothing but vulgar dance shows and money hungry managers coaxing you into throwing your money away. The Three stars should actually stand for Third class.

"Cover Business for your Basic Brothel"

Basically put, don't even go to the restaraunt on the first floor unless you enjoy being solicited for sex. The place is called TGIT (Thank Goodness It's Thursday). I hadn't even reached the bar when an eastern European girl approached me and introduced herself. Not knowing the nature of this place, I thought that maybe I'd just found someone to chat up at the bar. I asked her if she'd like something to drink and her reply was, "Yes! You!" After asking her what she meant, she said she wanted to take me to her apartment and that I'd need to discuss a price with her boss......Yikes. Visions of blood tests danced in my head. I took a look around and realized that there were about 20-some women there bouncing from guy to guy. I'm not even sure that they serve food at TGIT because none of the 50 or so people there were eating anything. Like the other poster, I have no clue what the rest of the hotel is like because I left abruptly.

Also, on the hotel website this is the picture they have of the hotel:



WHY OH WHY DIDN'T I GOOGLE?!

And these people didn't even visit the spa!! I can't say this is something that is "Only in the UAE" but I can say that I probably managed to find and book us massages at the nastiest hotel in Dubai. Gooooooooooo Karen! :|

We did actually end up having a wonderful weekend doing great things the UAE can offer like going to the beach at night, excellent shopping, eating in great restaurants, etc...but none of that is nearly as fun as hearing about this stuff ;) We sure do have some interesting memories too...

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Only in the UAE

So if you have read this blog before you know this country is full of craziness. You can buy serious narcotics, antibiotics and birth control over the counter at pharmacies with no prescription. People often load up on cheap, accessible meds and take them home.

One of my friends, who is very into healthy living, orders organic vitamins from an online site. They get delivered to the local post office where she picks them up. She tried to pick up her package of vitamins and they told he she could not take them because they might be "illegal drugs" and that they would have to have a doctor come to the post office to examine their contents before releasing them. They said "the doctor will be in tomorrow" so this is clearly a regular occurrence.

They emailed her today saying that, luckily, her "drugs" checked out and she can go pick them up. Now excuse me while I go buy a bottle of booze from one of the many unlicensed liquor stores where they won't even give you a receipt because they are so shifty. But don't you dare try to smuggle in that Vitamin D supplement. Yallah, just go out in the sunlight. Is legal there.

Only in the UAE.

Friday, May 10, 2013

What would it feel like to have no civil rights?

One of my dear friends is Palestinian-American, living here in the UAE. She told me a story about her brother recently that I wanted to share (with her permission of course). Her brother, who is also Palestinian-American (with an American passport, as well) flew from America to Palestine to go home to visit his family. My friend told me that it is business as usual for anyone going into the country to be interrogated at immigration by the Israeli border control. Another friend who has visited Israel said that she was interrogated for 2 hours when she visited, and that they kept asking her where she was "really from" (she was also coming from the US). So my friend's family had sent a taxi to pick him up from the airport and the taxi called the family after waiting 2, then 5, then 7 hours, with no word or appearance from the brother in Palestine. The family ultimately decided to let the taxi leave after hearing nothing for this long, and started contacting the American Embassy to try to find out what had happened to their brother.

Eventually, 10 hours after his landing time, a member of the family was able to find out from the embassy that he would be sent back to the US but they did not know when, or why, or where he was now. My friend told us this story at this point and she guessed that they would send him back through France, since that is how he flew in, and that he'd be able to contact the family there.

He left the US last Sunday and finally arrived back in the US yesterday (Thursday). My friend shared with me the rest of the story. During his TWELVE hour interrogation, they took away his phone or ability to contact anyone (including his family who was worried sick) and they put him in airport jail. Can you guess who was in airport jail with him? I bet you can't. An 8 year old and 12 year old child. CHILDREN IN AIRPORT JAIL. So not only do they take rights away from and deny a man access to his home country, they also imprison children, for probably no reason. Probably because the children couldn't answer questions fast enough. Or maybe the 8 year was plotting a teardown of the Israeli government? Yeah, that must be it.

So my friends brother is back in the US now. He travelled for a week, though never reached a destination. If you have ever travelled internationally, you know how absolutely exhausted you are. How irritated you feel. How if anyone accidentally bumps into you in the airport, you want to take their friggin head off. So now imagine the stress of being held from going into your own country after travelling for 20 hours. Because another government decided that your country was actually their country. Imagine keeping calm when your civil rights have been taken away and you are being questioned by the army of a military that has been performing a systematic genocide of your people in your country for years. Imagine, that the USA, who is rolling in bed with Israel, cannot even help you. When the embassy of "the most powerful country in the world" is powerless. Imagine, having your country renamed and being told that you are never allowed to go back there. Even though you were born there and your family is there.

Now you know how it feels to be Palestinian.

Now, tell me why I should support Israel again?

*I know this is only one side of the story. I know there are many Palestinians who may not feel like this, and that there are many Israelis who are probably wonderful people who disagree with their government. I am referring to the corrupt governmental system that degrades people and takes away their rights. When I heard this story I was shocked and outraged. When I told my fiancee, another Arab, he said, without shock, "Yeah, that's what they do. If I went there, they would do it to me too."

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Confusion

If you read my last post, you know about the situation at the pool the other day with my friends. More transpired after this event, when the friend who was asked to leave posted on Facebook about how she had to have a difficult, but necessary talk with her daughter about discrimination. Her friends starting posting supportive comments on her status, with an equal amount of rightful anger at the situation that an innocent young woman (her daughter) had been made to feel less because of her skin colour. I was participating in the comments, also feeling equally upset about the whole situation, when I was surprised to see myself being framed in the position of the oppressor (basically) because I had not stood up for my friends when they were asked to leave. I explained that since I was also a vigilantie pool user (ie. no membership) I didn't see that it would have helped for me to intervene, as it would have then brought it to the attention of the lifeguard and the management that there were in fact 8 of us scamming their hotel. We all definitely learned our lesson on that one-pay for your pool visits!

I have been left feeling confused, guilty and helpless to make change. I cannot go back and change my reaction now. I cannot help that my friends were hurt by the whole situation now. And I have found myself in the same uncomfortable, awkward position that I felt back when I was taking my racism and anti-discrimination course in school. I remember the day we read the article WHITE PRIVILEGE: UNPACKING THE INVISIBLE KNAPSACK by Peggy McIntosh in class. I remember the feeling of embarrassment, of sickness I felt in the pit of my stomach,  not only just knowing but truly SEEING that in the eyes of many, I am the oppressor, embodied.

Just like any person of any skin colour, I didn't choose to be white. I didn't choose the horrific things that my ancestors did to people, just because their skin was a different colour. I don't choose anything but my own actions, I thought, and I treat people right. I struggled with the notion that I had an unearned privilege that would make people dislike me, just for the colour of my skin. I felt almost angry-this has nothing to do with me, I thought. I talked about this issue with my professor for a long time and he pointed out that I was feeling uncomfortable, frustrated and angry, because people were making assumptions about me on the basis of my skin colour. Ah, so this is what racism feels like? Well, maybe a little. At this time in my life, I had never experienced hate or exclusion for being white, so I could not say I really, truly understood what racism felt like.

Luckily (and I say luckily FOR ME, because it was an eye-opening lesson) I did experience racism shortly after reading this article. Being a white teacher in a First Nation's community was not always easy. I thought I was there to help, they thought I was there to force them to learn "the white way" and I just couldn't understand it, because I was hired by First Nation's people to go there. I struggled. I cried. I was angry. Sometimes I felt hatred, back. But, I always tried to remember, these feelings and attitudes were informed by a history that I did not individually experience and that I will never fully understand. I can sympathize, but I can never really fully empathize. So, I felt like I learned a lot from that experience, but I was still stuck on the fact that no matter what, I cannot "get rid" of my whiteness, like other person cannot "get rid" of their race, and the advantages or disadvantages it brings. I can choose whether or not to capitalize on these privileges and I always try not to capitalize on them. But, sometimes we are faced with situations we do not know how to deal with. The situation at the pool was one of these. Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you didn't react, and then you think of 20 awesome things you could have said/ways you could have reacted that would have been way better than your true reaction? Right.

After hearing and seeing different perspectives on the situation as discussed on Facebook, I still honestly didn't know exactly how I felt, what to think or what to do. I pulled up the McIntosh article on my computer again tonight to see if it could turn any gears in my head. The article always makes me squeamish when I read it, because it does make a white person face so many unpleasant truths about their position of power and privilege in the world, whether asked for, or earned, or not. The last paragraph stuck out to me:

"Although systemic change takes many decades, there are pressing questions for me and, I imagine, for some others like me if we raise our daily consciousness on the perquisites of being light-skinned. What will we do with such knowledge? As we know from watching men, it is an open question whether we will choose to use unearned advantage to weaken hidden systems of advantage, and whether we will use any of our arbitrarily awarded power to try to reconstruct power systems on a broader base."

So, even the scholars on race-racism culture don't exactly know what to do or say. How can you reconstruct power systems on a broader base in a country that can kick you out for disagreeing with their policies? What good will I do rambling on at home in Canada about the situation in a country I got booted from for my criticism?  Do I try to weaken hidden systems of advantage and use my arbitrarily awarded power for good? Absolutely. Am I always good at it? Absolutely not. It can be a difficult lesson to learn in life, that pure intentions do not always equal positive and/or pure results, when other factors are at play.

*** I have pasted the article below I talked about. It's long and has a lot of educational jargon, but it is worth a read***



 WHITE PRIVILEGE: UNPACKING THE INVISIBLE KNAPSACK 
Source: PEACE AND FREEDOM 
The bi-monthly journal of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom 
By Peggy McIntosh 
Through work to bring materials from women’s studies into the rest of the curriculum, I have often noticed men’s unwillingness to grant that they are over privileged, even though they may grant that women are disadvantaged. They may say they will work to improve women’s status, in the society, the university, or the curriculum, but they can’t or won’t support the idea of lessening men’s. Denials that amount to taboos surround the subject of advantages that men gain from women’s disadvantages. These denials protect male privilege from being fully acknowledged, lessened or ended. 
Thinking through unacknowledged male privilege as a phenomenon, I realized that, since hierarchies in our society are interlocking, there was most likely a phenomenon of white privilege that was similarly denied and protected. As a white person, I realized I had been taught about racism as something that puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage. 
I think whites are carefully taught not to recognize white privilege, as males are taught not to recognize male privilege. So I have begun in an untutored way to ask what it is like to have white privilege. I have come to see white privilege as an invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day, but about which I was “meant” to remain oblivious. White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools and blank checks. 
Describing white privilege makes one newly accountable. As we in women’s studies work to reveal male privilege and ask men to give up some of their power, so one who writes about white privilege must ask, “Having described it, what will I do to lessen or end it?” 
After I realized the extent to which men work from a base of unacknowledged privilege, I understood that much of their oppressiveness was unconscious. Then I remembered the frequent charges from women of colour that white women whom they encounter are oppressive. I began to understand why we are justly seen as oppressive, even when we don’t see ourselves that way. I began to count the ways in which I enjoy unearned skin privilege and have been conditioned into oblivion about its existence. 
My schooling gave me no training in seeing myself as an oppressor, as an unfairly advantaged person, or as a participant in a damaged culture. I was taught to see myself as an individual whose moral state depended on her individual moral will. My schooling followed the pattern my colleagues Elizabeth Nimmich has pointed out: Whites are taught to think of their lives as morally neutral, normative, and average and also ideal, so that when we work to benefit others, this is seen as work that will allow “them” to be more like “us”. 
Daily effects of white privilege: 
I decided to try to work on myself at least by identifying some of the daily effects of white privilege in my life. I have chosen those conditions that I think in my case attach somewhat more to skin colour privilege than to class, religion, ethnic status, or geographic location, though of course all these other factors are intricately intertwined. As far as I can tell, my African American co-workers, friends, and acquaintances with whom I come into daily or frequent contact in this particular time, place and line of work cannot count on most of these conditions. 
1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time. 
2. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area that I can afford and in which I would want to live. 
3. I can be pretty sure that my neighbours in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me. 
4. I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed. 
5. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented. 
6. When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization”, I am shown that people of my colour made it what it is. 
7. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race. 
8. If want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege. 
9. I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods that fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can deal with my hair. 
10. Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin colour not to work against the appearance of financial reliability. 
11. I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them. 
12. I can swear, or dress in second-hand clothes, or not answer letters without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty, or the illiteracy of my race. 
13. I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial. 
14. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race. 
15. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group. 
16. I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of colour, who constitute the world’s majority, without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion. 
17. I can criticize our government and talk about how much I fear its policies and behaviour without being seen as a cultural outsider. 
18. I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to “the person in charge” I will be facing a person of my race. 
19. If a traffic cop pulls me over, or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race. 
20. I can easily buy posters, postcards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys and children’s magazines featuring people of my race. 
21. I can go home from most meetings of organizations I begin to feeling somewhat tied in rather than isolated, out of place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, or feared. 
22. I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen. 
23. I can choose public accommodations without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen. 
24. I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help my race will not work against me. 
25. If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it has racial overtones. 
26. I can choose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” colour that more or less match my skin. 

Elusive and fugitive 
I repeatedly forgot each of the realizations on this list until I wrote it down. For me, white privilege has turned out to be an elusive and fugitive subject. The pressure to avoid it is great, for in facing it I must give up the myth of meritocracy. If these things are true, this is not such a free country; one’s life is not what one makes it; many doors open for certain people through not virtues of their own. 
In unpacking this invisible knapsack of white privilege, I have listed conditions of daily experience that I once took for granted. Nor did I think of any of these prerequisites as bad for the holder. I now think that we need a more finely differentiated taxonomy of privilege, for some of these varieties are only what one would want for everyone in a just society; and others give license to be ignorant, oblivious, arrogant, and destructive. 
I see a pattern running through the matrix of white privilege, a pattern of assumptions that were passed on to me as a white person. There was one main piece of cultural turf; I was on my own turf, and I was among those who could control the turf. My skin colour was an asset for any move I was educated to want to make. I could think of myself as belonging in major ways and of making social systems work for me. I could freely disparage, fear, neglect, or be oblivious to anything outside of the dominant cultural forms. Being of the main culture, I could also criticize it fairly freely. 
In proportion as my racial group was being made confident, comfortable, and oblivious, other groups were likely being made unconfident, uncomfortable, and alienated. Whiteness protected me from many kinds of hostility, distress and violence, which I was being subtly trained to visit, in turn, upon people of colour. 

For this reason, the word “privilege” now seems to me misleading. We usually think of privilege as being a favoured state, whether earned or conferred by birth or luck. Yet some of the conditions I have described here work systematically to overpower certain groups. Such privilege simply confers dominance because of one’s race or sex. 
Earned strength, unearned power 
I want, then, to distinguish between earned strength and unearned power conferred systematically. Power for unearned privilege can look like strength when it is in fact permission to escape or to dominate. But not all of the privileges on my list are inevitably damaging. Some, like the expectation that neighbours will be decent to you, or that your race will not count against you in court, should be the norm in a just society. Others, like the privilege to ignore less powerful people, distort the humanity of the holders as well as the ignored groups. 
We might at least start by distinguishing between positive advantages, which we can work to spread, and negative types of advantage, which unless rejected will always reinforce our present hierarchies. For example, the feeling that one belongs within the human circle, as Native Americans say, should not be seen as privilege for a few. Ideally it is an unearned advantage for them. This paper results from a process of coming to see that some of the power that I originally saw as attendant on being a human being in the United States consisted in unearned advantage and conferred dominance. 
I have met very few men who are truly distressed about systemic, unearned male advantage and conferred dominance. And so one question for me and others like me is whether we will be like them, or whether we will get truly distressed, even outraged, about unearned race advantage and conferred dominance, and, if so, what will we do to lessen them. In any case, we need to do more work in identifying how they actually affect our daily lives. Many, perhaps most, or our white students in the United States think that racism doesn’t affect them because they are not people of colour, they do not see “whiteness” as a racial identity. In addition, since race and sex are not the only advantaging systems at work, we need similarly to examine the daily experience of having age advantage, or ethnic advantage, or physical ability, or advantage related to nationality, religion, or sexual orientation. 
Difficulties and dangers surrounding the task of finding parallels are many. Since racism, sexism, and heterosexism are not the same, the advantages associated with them should not be seen as the same. In addition, it is hard to disentangle aspects or unearned advantage that rest more on social class, economic class, race, religion, sex, and ethnic identity than on other factors. Still, all of the oppressions are interlocking, as the members of the Combahee River Collective pointed out in their “Black Feminist Statement” of 1977. 
One factor seems clear about all of the interlocking oppressions. They take both active forms, which we can see, and embedded forms, which as a member of the dominant group is taught not to see. In my class and place, I did not see myself as a racist because 

I was taught to recognize racism only in individual acts of meanness by members of my group, never in invisible systems conferring unsought racial dominance on my group from birth. 
Disapproving of the systems won’t be enough to change them. I was taught to think that racism could end if white individuals changed their attitudes. But a “white” skin in the United State opens many doors for whites whether or not we approve of the way dominance has been conferred on us. Individual acts can palliate, but cannot end these problems. 
To redesign social systems, we need first to acknowledge their colossal unseen dimensions. The silences and denials surrounding privilege are the key political tool here. They keep the thinking about equality or equity incomplete protecting unearned advantage and conferred dominance by making these subjects taboo. Most talk by whites about equal opportunity seem to me now to be about equal opportunity to try to get into a position of dominance while denying that systems of dominance exist. 
It seems to me that obviousness about male advantage is kept strongly inculturated in United States so as to maintain the myth of meritocracy, the myth that democratic choice is equally available to all. Keeping most people unaware that freedom of confident action is there for just a small number of people props up those in power and serves to keep power in the hands of the same groups that have most of it already. 
Although systemic change takes many decades, there are pressing questions for me and, I imagine, for some others like me if we raise our daily consciousness on the perquisites of being light-skinned. What will we do with such knowledge? As we know from watching men, it is an open question whether we will choose to use unearned advantage to weaken hidden systems of advantage, and whether we will use any of our arbitrarily awarded power to try to reconstruct power systems on a broader base. 
*This excerpted essay is reprinted from the July/August 1989 issue of Peace and Freedom, the bimonthly journal of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom. 

Friday, March 22, 2013

Privilege and Discrimination

Over the last week I have had a few people tell me through social media or in person, that I have done something to encourage them or to make their lives brighter. These accolades of course made me feel great, and not just because everyone likes a compliment! :P They have helped me to see that others see the person I am trying to be. I am trying to be a person that stands up for others, that tries to put myself in their shoes and that can't always change things but can SEE the problems and will think about them. Living in the UAE has brought these personal challenges to the forefront of my life, like never before. It's not as though I see myself as some superhero trying to solve everyone's problems, I just think that I am solidifying the key parts of my identity in a way I haven't done since my teenage years.

So all was well and I was feeling happy, then something happened to confuse this positive course and make me rethink how much I'm really doing anything, or if I am simply making myself feel that I am. A group of my friends and I decided to go to the pool at a fancy hotel in the city. I used to be a member of the hotel but I realized that they never checked my membership, and it's soooo expensive, so I let it expire and I just use the pool occasionally. Victimless crime, right? Don't judge, I'm airing my dirty laundry for a reason here. I invited my friends to the pool today, assuming they would be able to take advantage of the same opportunity. For the purposes of this story it's important to know that I walked in with two friends, one Caucasian, and one Arab and went to meet our Caucasian friend who was already there. My two other friends I invited, who I will just identity as non-Caucasian (though that is certainly NOT how they identify themselves, just keeping things general for the blog...) came in, set themselves up and then I got into the pool shortly after. One of the lifeguards came over to my Caucasian friend and asked her was she a member, and she said "Yes, of course!" and he gave her towels. A short while after he asked my other two non-Caucasian friends if they were members, which they of course replied that they were. He walked away, then talked to another employee, pointing at my two friends. He then came back over and talked to them again, basically harassing them/not believing them, at which point they just picked up and left. I was swimming in the pool while this was happening and I would usually have gone to help, but I was also in the active process of scamming the hotel, so I really couldn't. The worst part is, they never even asked me for a membership, or spoke to me at all.

This isn't because I'm super special or shockingly gorgeous, but rather because I'm white. I'm not bragging. This invisible white privilege is something I learned about while doing a race and racism course in school. It confused and disturbed me then and it still does now. This country has been built on the idea that the English (ie. whites-in their eyes) are the people to be like, and everyone else is just here to serve the rich. I left the pool today feeling weird and feeling guilty. It was unfair that I didn't get called out, just because I'm white and I really should have said something. The most angering part of the whole situation is that the lifeguards who took part in this act of discrimination were also not white and in fact were nearly the same colour as my friends who they were discriminating against!

I have come to see this country as a little bit of a microcosm for what has historically been, and is still currently, wrong with the world. There is blatant discrimination and racism, classism and slavery. I see examples off it almost every day. At work the other day the students told a teacher they don't like a certain maid at our school because she yells at them every morning. What does she yell? "WHY DON'T YOU TREAT ME LIKE A HUMAN BEING!?" Yeah. We gave her a card and a little bit of money because she was going to her home country and she cried, so touched that people were being nice to her.

These are only a few of the problems that I see here on a daily basis. They affect the people that I know and love, which makes me angry. At the same time, I have seen these same problems almost anywhere in the world that I have gone. I have friends who deal with discrimination due to race, sexuality, gender identity, mental illness and countless other things in Canada (and undoubtedly other countries). Things are better hidden there, though. Here everything is on the surface. Maybe that's the reason I'm here, to observe, to write about, to share with the world that these issues exist on the surface here. There are some things I can change. Mindsets. My own behaviour. Maybe even the thoughts of those willing to listen. What I cannot change, I will write about. Change starts with awareness right?

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Say what?!

It's crazy story time! It's been a while so it's about time.There is a school my friend teaches at about an hour into the desert on the way to Dubai. One day a young student (Kindergarten I think) was complaining about "a bug" in the classroom. The Emirati teacher went over to see it. It turns out that this "bug" was a poisonous scorpion whose venom can kill you within 10 minutes! Right. So they evacuated the school and our employer came to assess the situation. They "didn't see anything" but the principal insisted they sign a paper saying they were responsible for the children's lives before she would let them back in. Of course, all of a sudden, school was cancelled. They brought in a team of fumigators(? Maybe? How you even kill scorpions?) and they said that the scorpions had laid eggs all over the school so now the school is infested with them. So, they cancelled school for the kids. But wait, here's the best part- they are still making the teachers attend work!!!!!!! We definitely don't get paid enough for that.

***

Discipline at my school can sometimes leave something to be desired. Okay, it pretty much always leaves everything to be desired. The administration has often told us that they are too busy to come help discipline students, meanwhile they are BUSY sitting on their duffs and drinking tea. We are used to this by now, since it's fairly typical. Today was a new low, though, when my colleague-who is an excellent teacher and disciplinarian, I might add-went to the Principal to talk about a problem with a student. The Principal's reply to the teacher: "Your hair looks very beautiful today!" This is coming from the same woman that wears 8 inch heels to work everyday and sits at her desk watching a camera and screaming over the intercom while teachers try to teach.

***


Friday, February 15, 2013

A collection of thoughts

Last night I went to the movies to see A Good Day to Die Hard. It was a fun truck-flipping romp in the city, but part of my movie-going experience was totally ruined by the Emirati dudes who talked through the whole movie behind me. They even raised their voices to a yell during the louder action parts to make sure they could still talk? I don't want to say that this ridiculous behaviour is an "Emirati thing" because there were many other Emiratis in the theatre quietly watching the movie, getting just as pissed off as me at the two fools. It makes me wonder how the type of assholey arrogance is developed that you think it's okay to ruin an experience for 60 people just so you can chat. Go to fucking Starbucks!

***

Yesterday I had a movie day for my students in the last two periods of the day. We watched the Disney movie Tangled, about Rapunzel. They always love this movie because it's about a sheltered girl with long hair who takes on the world and falls in love (what they dream their future will be like). It was so cute watching these 16 year old girls all curled up on beanbag chairs together giggling and ooohhh and ahhhhing at the animated male character. It got me thinking about how because these girls are so sheltered (innocent) it keeps then extra young, for extra long. I'd compare their maturity and knowledge level to that of most 12-13 year olds even though they are 16-18. This is the same here across the board generally, with a few exceptions. It does disturb me to think that when some of these girls graduate and leave highschool in a few years, they will be married immediately, some to older men and likely be expected to have children right away. This is literally the definition of babies having babies..I just don't get it. Perhaps this is why I'm not so hard on them at school. I want them to be giggly school-girls for as long as possible.

***

A few days ago my student stopped me in the hallway and we had the following conversation:

"Miss, can you be orange?"-Student
"Ummm....what?"- Karen
"Can you be orange. I mean, I like you and I like orange, so if you be orange I'd like you even more."-Student
"Oh, you want me to wear orange?"-Karen
"Yes, be orange tomorrow."-Student
"Well, I don't know if I have much orange, but I can try."-Karen
"Good, because you are white. So the orange will make you look more white and good." -Student
"Okay?"-Karen

***

Student comes up to me in the classroom:

"Miss, what is a DICK?"
"Uhh...pardon me?"
"A DICK Miss. Dick!"
"Ummm....Can you use it in a sentence?"
"Okay. I like to walk on the big dick to get to my boat"
"OHHHHHHH! DECK. D-EEEE-CK! It is a walkway that floats on water, usually made of wood" (sort of)

*Phew!*

***


Monday, February 4, 2013

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one

Today one of my students was doing a presentation on her research project on heroines. She chose Rosa Parks, which I was thrilled with. The presentation was great, I thought and she seemed to have a good understanding of what Parks was fighting for, even though she's so far removed from that time and place...I thought...

At the end of her presentation she had to make a connection between Parks as a heroine and the UAE culture (this is required in the assessment for the presentation..which I certainly didn't decide on, by the way.) Her point of connection was that Parks fought against racism and wanted rights for Black people, just like everyone else had- and that thankfully, there are no problems with racism here in the UAE because all people are equal and no one even looks at colour here. Rrrrrrright. Then I ran screaming out of the room and quit teaching forever. Sigh.

Okay, let's back up. I didn't run screaming. I sat, smiling. I told her that her presentation was good, because it was and she had worked so hard on it. In any other classroom in any other part of the world, I would have asked if the class agreed with her, and perhaps even started a healthy debate. I would have asked how many of the Syrian, Jordanian, Lebanese, Indian, Egyptian or Sudanese students in my class agreed with this statement. I would have asked them if their parents came here looking for a better life and if they were welcomed with open arms, or even received with respect. I would have asked why, in my own line of work, for example, local teachers make 100% more than me for doing the same job and why other Arab Expats (from similar countries mentioned above) make almost 50% less than me. But here, I can't have this debate. This is not something we can talk about in schools. Leave the politics out, they tell us.

Once we accidentally had a political conversation in my classroom and it got out of hand very quickly. We were discussing a short story and the topic of equality came up. An Emirati student of mine said that she was proud of her country because everyone is treated equal. An Egyptian student raised her hand and said "Miss, that's not true. Everyone knows that you don't get good treatment unless you're a local. They just try to say that." My classroom erupted into two warring sides before I even knew what was happening and then the conversation quickly turned to yelling in Arabic, which is even harder to control. I ended it as quickly as possible, but I feel it left a mark on that class for the rest of the year. Who knows what exactly they said in those untranslated moments.

This type of situation makes me uncomfortable and I think that's partially because I don't know what to do with it. I know that I don't feel like it's a good idea to send a student out of school and into the world (perhaps, another part of the world) without having them critically think about their own place in society. Is it a good thing that my student (who wants to go to University in Canada, mind you) has been raised to believe everyone is equal in a place where inequality glares her in the face every day? Perhaps, I am not being fair, though. Inequality does not really glare her in the face. She seems to live a very privileged and sheltered life. I'm sure she sees that she lives in a mansion and that there are men sitting on the side of the road with no shoes, but maybe she doesn't know how to deal with it. Maybe she doesn't have the skills to understand or cope with something so big. In fact, I'm not even sure that I have those skills.

A very wise, very famous man once said: "The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people." I worry about this. By living here, I imply my own acceptance of the way things work in this country. There is a definite class system with borders that have been strictly set, and one cannot go about saying anything about that without getting in some serious trouble. Should I leave because I cannot accept these things and because I feel I shouldn't benefit from a country built on slavery, or should I stay and try to help my students to see (even just a little) that we DO need to treat all people equally, despite their class, race or ethnicity?

No, you don't need to throw your book bag on the floor for your Nanny to pick up and carry to the car. She's tired. She took care of your brothers and sisters all day, while her children in her home country miss their Mother. 

No, you don't need to be afraid of that man because he has brown skin, or looks poor or has dirty clothes. He is just a man who works very hard to try to send money home to make a better life for his wife. 

No, it's not normal to me that there is an implicit rule that I shouldn't look certain groups of people in the eye or share an elevator with them.

I was waiting for the elevator in my building one day when a man (who looked to be either Indian or Pakistani) shuffled up carrying a full jug of water (one of those big ones meant for a water cooler). I got in the elevator and held the door for him, and he hesitated, but I told him to please come, since he was holding something so heavy (and also because the elevator can hold more than just me!) With a strained look, he finally got on and pressed himself into the corner to be as far away from me as possible. I smiled at him to try to make it less awkward and he looked down at the floor. When he got off he turned and said "Sorry Ma'am." I was so taken off guard by this strange apology that I just stared at him, not knowing what to say. After the door closed and I continued down it occurred to me that he had been apologizing for sharing the elevator with me, as if he was not allowed or not worthy of doing so. This, right here, is what I'm talking about. He wasn't born thinking he was lower. He probably didn't even come from his own country thinking he was lower. That was developed here. That was burned into him here and that disturbs me so much.

I don't know what will happen, but if history is any indication, things will not stay like this forever.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Fate or Choice?

The concept that everything runs based on the will of God was something very new to me when I came to the UAE. A very popular phrase here is "Insha'Allah- meaning, if Allah wills it. This on its own is not a bad thing. I think it's nice when people have strong faith. However, in UAE (and Gulf countries) Insha'Allah is used willy nilly as "maybe" or as "yeah...probably not..." Today I was in a meeting with my Principal and we asked her when parent-teacher meetings were going to be. They had already been cancelled once with no explanation. It would be important to know this information not only to prepare for it, but also for those who have children and need to arrange babysitting, or for those who just have other damn things to do from 4-6pm (like me!) So her answer was, "Next Wednesday, or Thursday....Insha'Allah" as she looked up to the ceiling of her office. Like......really? You can't just set a date, inform parents and teachers and run the night? I do understand that certain circumstances or "acts of God" if you want to call them that, could interfere with a plan, but for the most part it's usually worth it to plan it and then apologize if a meteor hits the school or something and it has to be cancelled.

I also ran into this issue when I was teaching my students verb tense grammar rules. You are able to identify one of the tenses by checking that an event will definitely happen or that there is a definite plan for the future, with evidence. When I told my students this rule and gave them some examples, they came back at me with one version or another of Insha'Allah. "But Miss how do you KNOW that the girl will meet with her friend tomorrow. Maybe she will die. Only God knows!" Besides being fairly morbid and also a depressing way to look at things, I just can't imagine living my life never making a plan because something might happen. 

I feel that Insha'Allah is overly and incorrectly used in UAE (and Gulf) because a friend of mine who is also Muslim has stated that when she says Insha'Allah, she ACTUALLY means that the situation is God willing. She doesn't use it that often, yet people from the Gulf use it instead of 'Yes' or 'No' in daily conversation. Some things are left to God, or fate, or chance (whatever you feel depending on your views) and I accept that, but I also think that much of your life is controlled by choice and action. This concept seems entirely foreign here.