There is something wrong in this world when there is ridiculous media coverage, outcry and anger when MIA gives the finger during the Superbowl halftime show…
…and then no one says a goddamn word when Chris Brown wins a Grammy.
Hey, Chris Brown! Where were you at the Grammy’s 3 years ago? I seem to remember that you were supposed to perform.
What? Oh, yes. You were beating the shit out of your girlfriend.
And three years later you win a Grammy in some sort of twisted “comeback”.
Pardon me, Grammy people. But who the do you think you are? Did we forget how Chris Brown wailed on his girlfriend in the front seat of his Lamborghini? What? How can that be possible? Did you forget about how he didn’t take responsibility until he posted a passive aggressive video on YouTube? Did you forget how the court, JUST LAST MONTH, refused to lift his probation because they weren’t satisfied that he understood what he had done.
I just can’t.
Here’s video that identifies more wrongness:
And this article sums it up even more perfectly.
I’m Not Okay with Chris Brown Performing at the Grammys and I’m Not Sure Why You Are
I’m sick and tired of people acting like it’s no big deal that Chris Brown will be performing at the Grammys.
I’m frustrated that the mainstream media is covering this story like it’s any comeback story, like an exiled prince’s return to a former glory, like this is another political timeline — as though some rich and powerful old white men in the music business have not just issued an enormous ‘f**k you’ to every woman who has been, is or will be on the receiving end of domestic violence.
We should be furious.
Why aren’t we?
A Long, Long Time Ago, or Three Years Ago, But Who’s Counting?
For those of you who are currently listening to ‘Look at Me Now’ and wondering what the big deal is, a quick recap: The night before the Grammys in 2009, Chris Brown got angry at his girlfriend, Rihanna, and he took it out on her face. She went to the hospital and then to the LAPD, where this photo was taken and promptly leaked to TMZ. (The LAPD issued a stern statement on the leak, threatening penalties “up to and including termination”. TMZ reportedly paid $62,500 for the photo.)
Both Rihanna and Brown had been scheduled to perform at the Grammys the following evening. Neither did.
Instead, Chris Brown turned himself into the LAPD at 7 pm, was booked on suspicion of criminal threats and was released on $50,000 bail.
Then the Internet exploded.
I was a full-time entertainment writer at the time, so I had a front-row seat to the action. This is what I expected: I expected a string of celebrities to comment on how horrific this situation was, how sad and angry they were for Rihanna, how domestic violence is unacceptable in any context, how as a nation we need to condemn this and condemn it loudly.
Instead, Hollywood went silent and, when they did speak, they teetered on the brink of defending Chris Brown.
Carrie Underwood: “I don’t think anybody actually knows what happened. I have no advice.”
Lindsay Lohan: “I have no comment on that. That’s not my relationship. I think they’re both great people.”
Nia Long: “I know both of them well. They’re young, and all we can do is pray for them at this point.”
Mary J. Blige: “They’re both young and beautiful people, and that’s it.”
Jay-Z, one of Rihanna’s mentors, spoke up: “You have to have compassion for others. Just imagine it being your sister or mom and then think about how we should talk about that. I just think we should all support her.”
In a sane world, Jay-Z’s statement would sound insane. Why would he have to remind his fans to support Rihanna after what happened is that she got hit in the face?
Jay-Z issued that statement because the Internet was, in early February 2009, engaged in a very serious conversation about whether or not all of this was Rihanna’s fault. In fact, large segments of the Internet had devoted themselves to making Rihanna the scapegoat for any woman who ever had the gall to do something worth getting hit, and then the cloying self-esteem to go to the cops about it. Bloggers and their commentators flocked to Chris Brown’s defense in droves. It was a full-blown tearing-down of female self-worth, an assault on any progress women have made in this country in the past 200 years, and the mainstream media ignored it.
It horrified me. It still does.
Later in February, a photo of Brown riding a jet ski in Miami hit the Internet, and singer Usher was caught on video commenting on it: “I’m a little disappointed in this photo,” Usher says in the video. “After the other photo [of Rihanna’s bruised face]? C’mon, Chris. Have a little bit of remorse, man. The man’s on jet skis? Like, just relaxing in Miami?”
The backlash was so severe that Usher was later forced to publicly apologize.
“I apologize on behalf of myself and my friends if anyone was offended,” he said. “The intentions were not to pass judgment and we meant no harm. I respect and wish the best for all parties involved.”
The message we sent to young women was unmistakable: You are powerless. You are worthless. You will be a victim, and that will be okay with us.
The Fall-out, and the Lack Thereof
In August 2009, Brown was sentenced to five years probation and 180 hours of community service after pleading guilty to felony assault.
In December 2009, he released his third studio album. It sold over 100,000 copies in its first week and debuted at #7 on the Billboard charts.
On June 8, 2010, Brown was forced to cancel his tour dates in the UK when the British Home Office refused to grant him a work visa on the grounds of “being guilty of a serious criminal offence”. Less than three weeks later, he performed ‘Man in the Mirror’ at the BET Awards’ tribute to Michael Jackson.
His fourth studio album, released in March of last year, debuted at #1.
In December 2011, Billboard crowned him their artist of the year.
“We’re glad to have him back,” said executive producer Ken Ehrlich. “I think people deserve a second chance, you know. If you’ll note, he has not been on the Grammys for the past few years and it may have taken us a while to kind of get over the fact that we were the victim of what happened.”
Read that quote again. Think hard about what is being said. Here is what this quote says to any woman who’s ever been abused:
By blacklisting Chris Brown from the Grammys for a “few” years (actually, a grand total of TWO Grammy Awards), the Grammys have gone above and beyond expectations for the social exile of an adult man who hit his girlfriend so hard she went to the hospital, and honestly it was really, really hard for them to show even that much support for victims of domestic violence worldwide.
It was rather thoughtless of Rihanna to go and get herself hit in the face by her boyfriend, because it’s put such a burden on the Grammys. Maybe if she hadn’t made such a big fuss out of it, things could have been easier for everyone.
The Grammys think that they were the victim of Chris Brown hitting Rihanna in the face.
The Grammys. Think. That they. Were the victim. Of Chris Brown. Hitting. Rihanna. In the face.
Hitting People Is Wrong, Y’All
I agree that people deserve a second chance. It’s great that we live in a country with a justice system that allows offenders to reclaim themselves and their lives after their sentence. I’m happy about that, and I hope Brown is a changed man at the end of his sentence. (The US justice system has Chris Brown on probation through 2014. It was nice of the Grammys to let him off a couple years early for high record sales good behavior.)
And my suspicion is that Rihanna has no interest in being a poster child for victims of domestic violence. She probably wishes this would all disappear, and I don’t blame her for a minute. She didn’t ask for this – for any of it – and she’s under no obligation to speak out about it.
But someone has to. Because what is happening here is unmistakable. It is, in my eyes, so unmistakable that I wonder if I’m wrong, if I’m missing something huge, because I cannot believe more voices aren’t railing against this.
We – the grown-up influencers in this country, the people with platforms and with educations and with power — are allowing a clear message to be sent to women: We will easily forgive a person who victimizes you. We are able to look beyond the fact that you were treated as less than human, that a bigger, stronger person decided to resolve a conflict with you through violence. We know it happened, but it’s just not that big of a deal to us.
We were so mad when the Komen Foundation pulled its funding for breast cancer screenings at Planned Parenthood. “This is not fair,” we shouted. “This is not fair to women, and this is not fair to the women who don’t have a voice, and we will not allow it.” We shouted it so loudly that Komen reversed its decision in three days. We forced the resignation of one of their top executives.
Planned Parenthood, no doubt, has a well-funded and fine-tuned PR machine, adept at galvanizing a population against a perceived injustice. They outmaneuvered Komen easily.
Does domestic violence have a less sophisticated PR machine than Chris Brown does?
Because to me, this situation isn’t all that different. Accepting that Chris Brown gets to perform at the Grammys because some people bought his album is no different from accepting that women without health insurance don’t get to be screened for breast cancer because some VP at Komen is anti-abortion. It may happen, but that doesn’t mean we should tacitly accept it. What if Chris Brown had hit your sister that night? Or your daughter? (What if Chris Brown had hit Taylor Swift that night?)
We’re accepting the message that women just aren’t that important, that their health and their safety and their self-respect is only important until it stops being convenient for everyone. We should be angry about this, and we should be angry publicly about this.
So I want to say this to anyone who is listening: This is not okay with me. A man hitting a woman in anger is unacceptable and is not easily forgotten or forgiven. A man who hits a woman in anger deserves to be reported to the authorities and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, regardless of who might be inconvenienced in the process. A man who hits a woman in anger may eventually be permitted to go on with his own life, but he is not permitted back in my life, even if it’s been three whole years.
Last month we were interview by The Toronto Star- read on to find out more 😉
Women see the other side
Published On Tue Dec 27 2011
Once a week women from Waterloo’s Wilfrid Laurier University go to prison. They pass through a razor-wired fence twice their height and enter an austere brick building, a federal prison for women in Kitchener called the Grand Valley Institution.
These are no Florence Nightingale-minded do-gooders. These women are locked up to learn. They are among the first in Canada to participate in a remarkable program that brings university students and prison inmates together to study in a post-secondary class.
The Inside-Out Prison Exchange Program allows those in prison who never dreamed of going beyond high school to achieve that seeming impossibility. It is rehabilitative, character-changing and confidence-building. It has been shown to reduce crime and violence.
It also engages regular college students in a world they may only have encountered through TV or film and deepens their understanding of social problems. It pushes them to work for changes in their communities to reduce crime and recidivism. Inside-Out is a program that should be emulated in prisons across the country.
When the students arrive at Grand Valley, a prison housing 189 women, they lock up their valuables. Books and papers are placed on an x-ray conveyor belt. Identity cards are shown and they make their way to what looks like an ordinary school room to meet their classmates, women imprisoned for theft, fraud or drug offences.
It is a novel idea, mixing students from essentially middle-class backgrounds with those behind bars. It was introduced to Canada by Simone Davis, an English professor who taught at Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts and is now at the University of Toronto.
Davis taught Inside-Out classes in the U.S. and found it deeply gratifying. Prisoners begin to have hope; they see the opportunities for a new life after they are freed. “The students from the outside who might have thought every inmate is a thug are also transformed,” Davis says. Stereotypes are busted.
The program was founded in 1997 by Lori Pompa of Temple University in Philadelphia. She was inspired by an idea from Paul Perry, a man serving a life sentence in a Pennsylvania state prison. Inside-Out, headquartered at Temple, is now offered by universities and colleges in 35 states with about 10,000 students participating in classes ranging from anthropology to English literature. It is being emulated around the world.
Many argue that prisoners are behind bars for good reason and should pay for their misdeeds. Why allow them the privilege of a university education? The benefits, though, can be enormous. Studies conclude that inmates who receive education are less likely to return to prison. “School failure in childhood and adolescence is widely accepted by researchers as one of the most persistent precursors of later adult criminality,” says a report by Correctional Service Canada.
One U.S. study found that completing post-secondary education could reduce the likelihood of reincarceration by 62 per cent. Davis argues it has a ripple effect. Prisoners who are educated become leaders inside and help mitigate violence and conflict within the institution, and re-enter the community with greater ease.
At the same time, students who visit prisons for shared classes are enriched by mixing with those who have grown up poor and fallen into criminal activity. “I’ve learned so much about women in prison and the issues they face,” says Kim, an “outside” student starting a master’s degree in social work at Wilfrid Laurier.
Students use only first names and do not share backgrounds or histories unless they choose to. “Outside” students are not allowed to ask “inside” students why they are behind bars.
The first session is often difficult. “I was afraid of being judged,” allows Nyki, a woman from inside. “But with every subsequent class I started feeling better.” Students all worry about being judged, whether they are from inside or out, says Wilfrid Laurier social work professor Shoshana Pollack, who led the first class at Grand Valley.
“The ability to share voices, being on equal ground, building trust and listening to each other is important,” says Victoria, a student who returned to university after being away for a few years.
Lorraine, an inmate, evolved from feeling shy to being unafraid to speak her mind. “This course has been a journey rich in laughter and tears, heart-stopping leaps of faith,” she said. “In a short period of time we got over assumptions we had about one another and we got on to learning.”
Together the students struggled with texts, including the poetry of Maya Angelou; they wrote essays and are creating the first women’s think-tank within the Inside-Out program. In the U.S., think-tanks are made up of prisoners and teachers and are responsible for training Inside-Out teachers.
The program is slowly taking root in Canada. Wilfrid Laurier and Kwantlen Polytechnic University in Surrey, B.C. launched it this year. A Ryerson University philosophy professor will teach at the Toronto East Detention Centre next year and instructors at U of T, York, the University of Ottawa and others have expressed interest.
The Harper government’s omnibus crime bill is set to swell the prison population. That’s following a flawed U.S. model, which scholar Ernest Drucker has labelled a “plague of prisons.” In order to stop that plague, rehabilitation must be taken seriously. The Inside-Out program is a commendable solution, helping to push aside the bars of social inequity that lead so many to prison in the first place.
For those you who have been wondering where I’ve been, you can relax. I haven’t forgotten about you all, I just started graduate school.
So shall we do the recap of stuff I’ve missed blogging about?
1. TIFF – the three sisters and the mother of the three sisters attended the Toronto International Film Festival (very swanky) and saw the documentary “Dark Girls”. Hopefully a Weyward Sister will give you a slammin’ review.
2. Gas prices – since I’m driving to school out of my area three times a week suddenly gas prices are a whole lot more important to me. $1.19 a liter? Ok! (Although I was told by a certain father that “It should be $1 even.”)
3. Big Brother – it ended and my favourite vet won (yes you read that right, I L-O-V-E Rachel)
4. Provincial election – are we following this shizz?? Hudak wants to make a sex offender registry public? WTH?
5. Dance Moms – have you seen this reality show? It is messed up. A old, dance teacher who yells at little children so that she “toughens them up”. Insane.
6. No longer going to patronize the Trails End Market. The owner of the market told a vendor that she was not able to return unless she stopped sending a transgendered employee to work her candle booth. Because it’s a “family establishment”.
Here’s there number for you to call and tell them why you will no longer be spending your cash at the market:
1 (519) 268-3840
And after 2 weeks of grad school I feel as though I am an expert. Here is what I have learned so far:
1. Reading. Lots of reading.
2. Be super psyched and super social work-y (including using social work-y language {“ideology”, “discourse”, “inclusive”}, eat social work-y food {salads, quinoa, almonds, tap water}, talk about social work-y topics {oppressed children, oppressed women, oppressed immigrants…basically anyone/thing that is oppressed}).
If you had the great chance to watch Jack’s funeral you would have gotten to see Stephen Lewis give the eulogy. I’ve been able to see Stephen Lewis speak on a number of occasions. I have seen a lot of different lecturers, but I’ve never seen a lecturer that is able to bring others to their feet with his eloquent and powerful words like Stephen Lewis. He was the perfect choice.
I know that there are some who don’t get the reaction that has been going on in Canada this past week after learning of Jack’s passing. Some think it was over the top or ridiculous.
I just think- thank goodness I live in a country where we mourn a public servant more than a pop star or a member of a royal family.
Thank goodness I live in a community that recognizes the great voice and optimism that was a man who brought an amazing amount of Canadians together to say that we were not happy with the status quo, we were not happy with the check and balances we had in place and dammit, we wanted to ensure that every decision in our country was made in good faith and keeping in mind equality, kindness and for crying out loud some fucking g-d common sense.
Some say that Jack’s final letter was politically charged and partisan.
What? Of course it was politically charged and partisan. What would expect from the leader of the opposition on his death bed? He was a politician entering the most exciting and important role of his political life, Leader of the Opposition. He didn’t get a chance to sit in Parliament and say what he wanted to in response to policies, bills and the like. So he took pen to paper to ensure that his ideology was stamped in our collective conscious. Does it surprise me that a lot of Canadians find themselves agreeing with what Jack wrote? Of course not. It’s hard to argue with the values of love and optimism. And I think it’s something folks in this country have been missing for a while.
I love what Jack’s work and legacy has helped create this week. Moments and spaces where people gathered to remember not just a leader of a political party, but a to remind ourselves of what we are capable of. And in a time when our country is taking frightening steps towards U.S. style politics and policies, I think it is not a moment too soon.
But I will say one thing to all those wonderful people who took time to write messages, mourn Jack, and celebrate the work that he and so many others do:
I’m sorry we missed you on May 2nd. I hope to see you on October 6th.
Please watch the eulogy below, and see what I mean about Lewis (text below):
Never in our collective lifetime have we seen such an outpouring, so much emotional intensity, from every corner of this country. There have been occasions, historically, when we’ve seen respect and admiration but never so much love, never such a shocked sense of personal loss.
Jack was so alive, so much fun, so engaged in daily life with so much gusto, so unpretentious, that it was hard while he lived to focus on how incredibly important that was to us, he was to us. Until he was so suddenly gone, cruelly gone, at the pinnacle of his career.
To hear so many Canadians speak so open-heartedly of love, to see young and old take chalk in hand to write without embarrassment of hope, or hang banners from overpasses to express their grief and loss. It’s astonishing.
Somehow Jack connected with Canadians in a way that vanquished the cynicism that erodes our political culture. He connected whether you knew him or didn’t know him, whether you were with him or against him.
Jack simply radiated an authenticity and honesty and a commitment to his ideals that we know realize we’ve been thirsting for. He was so civil, so open, so accessible that he made politics seem so natural and good as breathing. There was no guile. That’s why everybody who knew Jack recognized that the public man and the private man were synonymous.
But it obviously goes much deeper than that. Jack, I think, tapped into a yearning, sometimes ephemeral, rarely articulated, a yearning that politics be conducted in a different way, and from that difference would emerge a better Canada.
That difference was by no means an end to rancour, an end to the abusive, vituperative practice of the political arts. The difference was also, and critically, one of policy — a fundamentally different way of viewing the future of Canada.
His remarkable letter made it absolutely clear. This was a testament written in the very throes of death that set out what Jack wanted for his caucus, for his party, for young people, for all Canadians.
Inevitably, we fastened on those last memorable lines about hope, optimism and love. But the letter was, at its heart, a manifesto for social democracy. And if there was one word that might sum up Jack Layton’s unabashed social democratic message, it would be generosity. He wanted, in the simplest and most visceral terms, a more generous Canada.
His letter embodies that generosity. In his very last hours of life he wanted to give encouragement to others suffering from cancer. He wanted to share a larger, bolder, more decent vision of what Canada should be for all its inhabitants.
He talks of social justice, health care, pensions, no one left behind, seniors, children, climate change, equality and again that defining phrase, “a more inclusive and generous Canada.” All of that is entirely consistent with Jack’s lifelong convictions. In those early days of municipal politics in Toronto Jack took on gay and lesbian rights, HIV and AIDS, housing for the homeless, the white ribbon campaign to fight violence against women and consecrate gender equality once and for all.
And of course a succession of environmental innovations, bike lanes, wind power, the Toronto atmospheric fund — and now Michael, his progressive and talented son, as councillor can carry the torch forward.
And then came his tenure as president of the Canadian Federation of Municipalities, where he showed that growing deftness of political touch in uniting municipalities of all sizes and geographic locations, winning their recognition of the preeminence of cities and the invaluable pillar of the public sector. Jack made the leap to federal politics look easy.
The same deeply held principles of social democracy that made him a superb politician at the city level, as I know, transferred brilliantly to federal politics. And also, from the many wonderful conversations we had together, I know led him to a formidable commitment to internationalism.
He was fearless in his positions once embraced. Thus, when he argued for negotiations with the Taliban to bring the carnage in Afghanistan to an end he was ridiculed but stood firm. And now it’s conventional wisdom. I move to recall that Jack came to the New Democratic Party at the time of the imposition of the War Measures Act, when tanks rolled into the streets of Montreal and civil liberties were shredded, and when the NDP’s brave opposition brought us to our nadir in public opinion.
But his convictions and his courage were intertwined — yet another reason for celebrating Jack and for understanding the pain and sadness with which his death has been received.
Above all — and his letter makes this palpably clear — Jack understood that we are headed into even more perilous economic times. He wanted Canadians to have a choice between what he described as the unfairness of an economy that excludes so many from our collective wealth, and an economy that would embrace equity, fairness, balance and creative generosity.
This was the essence of the manifesto. That’s why he insists that we’re a great country, but we can be a better one — a country of greater equality, justice and opportunity. These were not rhetorical concepts to Jack. They were the very core of his social democratic philosophy. He was prepared to do ideological battle, but as all things with Jack there was nothing impulsive or ill-considered.
He would listen as he always listened — he was a great listener — he would synthesize thoughtfully as he always did, and he would choose a political route that was dignified, pragmatic and principled. He was so proud of his caucus and what they would do to advance the agenda of social democracy.
He cultivated and mentored every member of that caucus, and as the country will see, that will speak volumes in the days ahead.
The victory in Quebec — and I will be followed by a eulogist in the francophone language — the victory in Quebec was an affirmation of Jack’s singular personal appeal, reinforced by Quebec’s support for progressive values shared by so many Canadians. And his powerful belief and trust in youth to forge the grand transformation to a better world is by now legendary. Indeed, the reference to youth spawns a digression.
From time to time, Jack and I would meet in the corridors of my foundation, where his supernaturally competent daughter Sarah works, and we would invariably speak of our grandchildren. You cannot imagine — I guess you saw it in the video — the radiating joy that glowed from Jack as he talked of Sarah’s daughter, his granddaughter Beatrice, and when he said as he often said that he wanted to create a better world for Beatrice and all the other Beatrices to inherit, you instantly knew of one of his strongest and most compelling motivations.
He was a lovely, lovely man. Filled with laughter and affection and commitment. He was also mischievous and musical, possessed of normal imperfections but deeply deserving of the love you have all shown. His indelible romance with Olivia was beautiful to behold, and it sustained them both.
When my wife and I met with the family a few hours after Jack died, Olivia said, as she said in the video, that we must look forward to see what we all can accomplish together.
I loved Jack’s goodness and his ideals in equal measure. Watching all of you react so genuinely to his death, the thousands upon thousands who lined up for hours to say a last goodbye in Ottawa and Toronto, it’s clear that everyone recognized how rare and precious his character was.
We’re all shaken by grief but I believe we’re slowly being steadied by a new resolve and I see that resolve in words written in chalk and in a fresh determination on people’s faces. A resolve to honour Jack by bringing the politics of respect for all, respect for the Earth and respect for principle and generosity back to life.
My wife Michele reminded me of a perfect quote from the celebrated Indian novelist, activist and feminist Arundhati Roy. Jack doubtless knew it. He might have seen it as a mantra. “Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day I can hear her breathing.”
This is an especially difficult loss for many young NDP’ers like myself. Jack was my first federal NDP leader. Jack was the one to convince me that 1) politics are transformative and important 2) I need to pay attention and 3) be grateful that I live in a country I can vote without fear. Jack was the one to help me decide that I would be orange. Jack was the one to help me understand that politics didn’t have to be corrupt.
Now that I’m entering my thirities I don’t quite know what to do now, along with other young-ish NDP’ers. We no longer have the strong, steadfast voice of Jack talking about the importance of shelters, safety for women and children, de-militarization, and taxes.
May 2011 was probably one of the most exciting federal elections I’ve seen. It was bitter-sweet, but it did see Jack take his team all the way to Stornoway. Unfortunately Jack isn’t going to be able to take up residence and show us a different kind of official opposition. One full of compassion, excitement and change.
That being said Jack has left us with something else: hope. No matter what was going on Jack Layton had an ability to remind us all of the strength that Canadians had, and in our ability to perservere and support one another.
I had the good chance to see Jack Layton in person at Toronto Pride a few years ago. Actually, anytime I’ve been to Pride, Jack’s been there. I saw him at the NDP tent/booth (you know where they have all the literature and pamphlets). I had to do a double take, but when I did, there was Jack. Standing at the tiny booth with two folding chairs and wearing a bright pink shirt. He was just hanging out, talking to those who stopped and chose to talk to him. I was too freaked out to stop. So we went on our merry way. A few hours later we walked by the NDP tent again. Jack was still there. He was engaged in a conversation with a few people. I was still too nervous to talk to him (yes, I’m a giant nerd). All I could do was yell, “I LOVE YOU JACK!”.
(M, you can vote without a card, just bring some photo ID and a piece of mail- or ID and someone who can vouch for you! I think TO needs all the progressive minds it can get!)
Courtesy of E, at the new Asian Supermarket…”Lost in Translation”
(Election results to come later on…but don’t worry I’ll wait until 10pm…don’t want to end up like this guy)
Weyward Sisters 