Then maybe they wouldn't have introduced us... (poem)

It was a year ago today,

our first date, first meeting,

in this exact coffee shop

nestle away in the downtown bustle.

You had curled your hair that day,

put on some subtle lipstick,

your favorite mid-length dress,

white splattered with red hibiscus flowers.

I combed my hair (for once)

and put on the nicest jeans I had,

a t-shirt that fit just right

with a smooth black blazer on top.

Our friends set us up,

their faces beaming like the day,

trying not to promise too much,

losing to their excitement and certainty.

If only they knew...

if only they knew

we would break each other's hearts,

exchanging eleven months of love

for many more months of sorrow and rage.

If only they knew

I would spend this anniversary alone,

in the spot where we first met,

staring at a bouquet of red hibiscus flowers,

wishing the flowers were you instead...

If only they knew...

-Zero

On Safe Spaces, Trigger Warnings, and Academic Freedom (discussion)

Just recently in a letter to class of 2020 of the University of Chicago the dean of students, John Ellison, wrote: "Our commitment to academic freedom means that we do not support so-called “trigger warnings,” we do not cancel invited speakers because their topics might prove controversial, and we do not condone the creation of intellectual “safe spaces” where individuals can retreat from ideas and perspectives at odds with their own."

If you aren't aware, trigger warnings are short warnings before texts or speeches that indicate that some portion of the content may possibly trigger powerful emotional reactions as a consequence of past trauma in a person's life. Generally, these trigger warnings are that of sexual assault or other various forms of abuse that someone may experience in their life (often being the case that a substantial amount of the population has suffered it in silence). It is a simple enough concept: provide warning so that those who may suffer flashbacks or what have you from reading the text know before going in and can choose with that in mind whether or not to read it.

And, generally speaking, safe spaces are spaces intended for particular groups of people so that they can feel safe. These groups often include (and are not limited to) women, people of color, and native peoples. The reason that these safe spaces exist is for a multitude of reasons, ranging from the escape from misogyny and the male gaze to safety from the racism present in the society.

As for academic freedom, it is the freedom to study and pursue whatever one pleases in academia, regardless of its controversy. In a very real sense, the promise of academic freedom that universities bring provide a safe space for both professors and students (as tenure exists in such a way that a tenured professor can write and do as he/she pleases so that the most controversial thing cannot remove them in most cases). It allows for the engagement of ideas beyond what is usually allowed in the common every day world.

As it may already seem apparent, it strikes me as odd and rather ignorant for John Ellison to put academic freedom against these safe spaces. Luckily for us, he provides a reasoning, claiming these safe spaces are spaces for people to retreat from ideas and perspectives that disagree with their own. The logic behind this is that if the people are simply turning away or hiding from those ideas and perspectives, they are not engaging with them as they should be, regardless of the discomfort. As for the rejection of trigger warnings, I am at a loss for any explanation there. It's almost like reading a summary of a text before reading it. Don't know why that is such a problem.

But... there is a reason why these safe spaces exist, similar to why universities have become safe spaces for intellectuals. The reason being, obviously, that it is not safe usually. Notice the groups I mentioned earlier. Women, people of color, native peoples, all of which live in a country that was built on the backs of slaves, has a long history of oppression and genocide, and which is catered to white men. Racism and sexism still exist, even in our universities. This much is true. And this is why these safe spaces arose.

I'll admit, as a white male, I also wouldn't have understood the importance of safe spaces and trigger warnings. Years ago I thought racism and sexism were over, that feminism was useless, and so on. I didn't want to listen to these people. I thought they should just live with how things are. So I understand where John Ellison is coming from here, but that doesn't make it right.

After all, if universities really do want to encourage academic freedom and true free speech, they must provide spaces in which all students feel safe to participate in the discussions. Otherwise what ends up happening is that those students who do feel safe (generally white men in this case) will dominate the discussions and the ideas and perspectives of everyone else will be silenced.

For example, it's no secret that women who post videos about feminism or write articles on feminist issues receive a wealth of sexist comments and attacks on them, rape and death threats, while men generally get more intellectual conversation. What this ends up meaning is that women need to be a lot stronger and confident than men do when participating in the discussion. They have to be very familiar with the block functions of the website they're using and the terms of service should things get worse. Take Leslie Jones (a woman of color) for example, who didn't make a video discussing feminism. She simply starred in the remake of "Ghostbusters" and at first there was the slew of racist and sexist twitter attacks, followed up more recently with a hacking and shutting down of her website and releasing of nude photographs. All of this for starring in a film remake.

With this in mind, it is easy to see why these safe spaces started to appear and why they should continue to appear until the structures that have created their necessity collapse on themselves. It is only for the freedom of all that these should exist, for the freedom of speech demands either security or incredible courage. And in rejecting them, the University of Chicago ends up doing the opposite of their goal. Instead of encouraging free speech and academic freedom, they have chosen to oppress it and silence those who are of different backgrounds and perspectives. We can only hope they realize their mistake one day..

-Zero

I am... (poem)

I am afraid,

afraid to go,

afraid to stay,

afraid to reveal,

afraid to hide.

I am afraid

I am not enough,

that I will fail,

that I will run

and leave the world for dead.

I am afraid

to show who I really am,

what I am really doing,

my flaming ambitions,

to reveal my calling.

I am afraid

of being alone,

of giving myself up

just to escape loneliness,

only to doom myself.

I am afraid

for the world,

that fear and hate will rule,

and the environment will die,

life's blood on our hands...

I am afraid,

but I will have courage,

I will show love,

I will have faith,

and I will have hope.

I am afraid,

but I will fight

against fear and hate,

for the world,

for life itself.

I am afraid,

but I will sacrifice everything,

my dreams and aspirations,

romantic love, my life,

in order to answer my calling.

I am afraid,

but I will not let fear control me.

-Zero

The Second Cup (poem)

She'd always ask me

if I wanted a second cup,

a second taste,

after I finished my first.

At first it was coffee

as we sat nervously

at the local coffee shop

on our first date.

Then in the mornings we'd share

after nights obscured

by romantic comedies

and romantic acts.

But second cups became second smokes,

second rounds of tequila,

second hits of a bong,

second thoughts.

Soon seconds passed

and I was left alone,

staring at the bottom of an empty cup,

wishing for a second chance.

-Zero

A Confession of Silence (non-fiction)

I've had a lot on my mind recently. So much has happened this summer alone, both personally in me and in the world at large. I've found myself constantly thinking on these things, and many times have I taken a pen to paper and scribbled something out in hopes of being able to post it, only to find myself incapable. So much has happened. From Trump to the shooting in Orlando, to the Brock Turner case, to the shooting of a black therapist while he was lying on the ground with his hands in the air, to a man of color getting beaten nearly to death (only to die in the hospital later) by police here in Ottawa, to the vicious attacks online against the stars of the new Ghostbusters but most noticeably to Leslie Jones, to a prominent American Christian making an argument why Trump is the morally good choice in the upcoming election... All the while, I've struggled with personal issues like loneliness, heartbreak, and letting go of the place I called home for so long.

I have thought hours upon hours on these things. I've written poems and unfinished non-fiction pieces to only be left untouched and hidden away from the world. It all just feels so big, so beyond my capabilities. How could I ever grasp the horror and sorrow of the shooting? How can I even know if in these writings I'm really just perpetuating some oppressive behaviour? And I've wanted to say so much, to do so much. But instead I've fallen to silence, to inaction. After all, what could I do?

But I feel the Flames burning within me, that call to courage, that call to battle, and I know I have to answer it. Otherwise, I know I could never call myself faithful, or say I have hope, or that I am truly loving. Because if I don't answer this call, all that I have falls away to nothing. Because if I had love, I could not stand by idly while injustice happens. If I had courage, I would have the strength to act. If I had faith, I would have the undying devotion to these things. If I had hope, then I would never give up as defeat is never permanent.

But the temptation to fall into cynicism and pessimism is strong, especially for anyone who decides to actively follow the events of the world. It seems as if everything is falling apart all around us. People are treating each other horribly everywhere and it seems to be a part of the human condition.

I was once cynical and hopeless about the state of humanity. In some sick way, I enjoyed hearing about the terrible horrors of the world because all I could do was revel in its misery. But deep down, it pained me deeply to see so much pain and injustice in the world. Cynicism was my shield against the pain of our reality, but it came at a price. I became indifferent to others, indifferent to myself. After all, if humanity is evil, doomed, or what have you, then if I betray others and perform evil acts, I am only acting in my inherent nature. I didn't have to care anymore.

But the worst of it was that I was willing to watch the world burn, myself included. I had accepted it, even. I wouldn't have fought it. I would have called it inevitable and laughed and mocked all those who tried to. It's almost funny to see now that climate change could very well do just that, that it's not just a war between nations, but a literal battle for survival. And it may be a hopeless fight, but if there's anything we've learned over the course of human history, it's that we have the power to radically change our environment and our own mode of being in order to accomplish that which was once thought impossible. Even I've changed radically from what I was five years ago...

I have been fearful in the past. I have fallen to obsession and lost my mind to both grief and fury. I have faced the monster within and fought it as it lashed out at those around me. I have lost faith and given up on myself and others. And, I have been unloving. I have hurt those who I claimed to love, and didn't listen and respect them in pursuit of personal selfish goals.

And even now I feel fearful as I think about even posting this, among other things. I can feel that same madness deep within, seeking for a moment of weakness to burst forth. I feel my faith and hope being challenged so often. And I know I am still learning to love.

This... this is my confession, the confession of my silence, and my flaming dedication to this world. And I know that this battle may require of me everything I have to offer. I know that in following it, I may have to give up old dreams of mine, like settling down and starting a family, much like the old monk at St.Benoit du Lac Monastery... But I will, because this world is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for. We are all worth fighting for. And whether or not you fight is up to you.

-Zero

Thoughts at a Bar (odd notes)

      The suspended light bulbs shine their yellow light on the oak leaves above. Underneath, a bar's patio sits mostly empty from the Monday night crawl. A large patio umbrella stands underneath the tree, barely brushing the thick trunk. Below it, two groups of young adults enjoy the craft beer. The barmaid makes conversation with some of the more regular of the customers, full of excitement for things to come but lacking in sleep. The church across the street stretches high into the sky, overlooking the town's two bars. 

      The quiet chatter of this cool summer night fills me with a romantic feeling, as if this was the place to meet a girl and start a new story. I recognize the occasional face from school. Despite what societal standards might say, attractive women are not in short supply, especially not at a university. 

      It's an old habit of mine, to fall into romantic contemplations about passing strangers. It's a broken sort of romance I imagine, though. I know that now. It's always based in impossibilities, in my many fictions. Maybe it's best if that part of me remains tied to fictional stories, but they can't be shared. I also know that beauty, in all its wonder, means next to nothing in a relationship. Love, in its full form, is far more than simply physical attraction. Sometimes what makes the physical form attractive is the mind within. 

      But it's a beautiful illusion of mine, these romantic thoughts of mine. That blonde there, sitting underneath the patio umbrella with her friends, could be my next love. I could run my fingers through her golden hair when we're alone, and I could enjoy a nice blond beer with her friends. Then there's that musician girl sitting at the bar. I've met her before and she's quite a character. Our eyes met on my way back from the bathroom. I could approach her, yeah, and start up a nice conversation, keep her company. I could offer to walk her home (I'm wary of other men), and when she would refuse me, I would ask her if she would like to exchange numbers to talk again. 

      But I know one thing for sure. These are illusions I place upon them. I'm sure they have their own illusions about things, maybe even about love, but these illusions of mine are fundamentally lonely. I won't go up to her. I won't start a new story with the blonde. I'll just sip my beer and try to fight this old habit of mine. Somehow I'm dissatisfied with what I have. I imagine some romantic perfect future with every mildly interesting young woman who catches my eye and forsake all that I have chasing after a dream. I can't do it anymore. I need to be better. Otherwise I won't be able to help others be better...

-Zero