Restaurateurs, wherever you are, learn this lesson. No matter how dreamy, retro, romantic, funky or sporty your restaurant, pub or lounge, one thing you do not want ever, and I mean ever, is a dark and scary bathroom. Maybe guys like pissing in the dark, though I doubt it because their aim is never that good, but women really don't.
When I was a teenager, in high school, the janitors went on strike. I didn't have the opportunity to see what state the boys' bathroom ended up in but reports were the girls' was the worst. And it was more disgusting than a pigsty, which really is just pigs wallowing in mud (and maybe some other organic matter). The girls stopped short of wiping their butts and throwing it on the floor but used tampons and sanitary napkins were spread far and wide.
It was truly appalling. It our me-me-me culture, women are as bad as men. There are those women who don' t like to sit on a toilet seat because of germs or because someone sprinkled on the seat, so they squat above. Some also come from cultures where squat toilets are the norm. However, some of these squatters spray everywhere because there is a larger space in which their non-aim can go. Unlike guys, we don't have a hose to direct.
I think half of these people leave the bathroom stall, having flushed, but not wiping the seat, because they didn't touch it, or they don't care and are ignorant of other people's use. Sometimes it is the toilet's fault where the water splashes up when the toilet is flushed. In either case, I tend to check and wipe the seat before I leave. After all, I try to leave the toilet how I would like to have it found.
When I enter any sort of public/restaurant bathroom, I always check for toilet paper and then put some down on the seat. The few times I haven't checked, thinking I'm safe I've had the misfortune of sitting in a wet spot and there is nothing more disgusting than sitting in another person's urine. Ick!
So bright lights for the toilets are tantamount. Romantic mood lighting doesn't help there, nor when a woman is trying to fix her make-up. Glaringly bright fluorescents that give people green-tinged skin and makes them look like zombies is not optimal but I would take it over the dark and scary toilet.
One of the worst in Vancouver, was Waazubee's on Commercial. It's cramped with dark blue walls, doors that rarely close right and just too dark. Time for a reno, Bennie. (I was in there last week and they've changed it to track lighting...yay!)
Of course the scariest toilets were when I was in Asia. Singapore had modern, flush toilets, but they were squat toilets. There was a hole in the floor (porcelain, mind you) with metal footprints on either side showing you where to put your feet, as well as which direction to face (it wasn't always easy to tell). Being a big of a benevolent tyranny, they also had very large signs posted about the fines people would receive for not flushing. It was something like $50-100.
That was the luxury in the predominantly Asian squat toilet. Some were a horrific combo, such as the porcelain bowl, absolutely filthy and stained, but with no seat. You had to squat halfway and that was harder than squatting to the floor. And try it with dysentery, not sure if you're going to puke or have diarrhea or both. Yeah, that was way too much fun.
Then there was the long, unlit tunnel behind some ramshackle cinder block and brick building. You ducked and duckwalked in, past a tattered sheet hung on a string, and squatted over a runnel with some water trickling through. Fetid does not describe the odor in the hot Indian sun.
The experience of using a squat toilet on the Indian trains was something else. There was a bar to hang onto as you watched the tracks beneath the hole. As well, you're swaying to and fro, which helps little with hitting that hole. Imagine trying to hold a skirt up, squatting and hanging on and then having to use toilet paper. That was a very interesting problem.
In Mexico City the toilets were usually brightly lit but few of them flushed. This wasn't long after a big earthquake and their water table is notoriously low. If you didn't bring your own toilet paper you had to pay some matronly senora for paper, by the square. But the worst was that because the toilets weren't flushing, you did your business in them but you put all paper in an open garbage can beside them. Imagine the smell in the heat of Mexican summer. Not exactly pleasant, and very very disgusting.
So, in retrospect a dark restaurant bathroom may be paradise but a lot of them could improve. The Japanese and some other European countries are big on bidets that wash and blow dry your nether regions. No paper is used and considering the number of trees we kill for toilet paper, it's not a bad solution. In India they didn't always use toilet paper either, or water. That's why it was important to always always carry your own.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Monday, December 22, 2008
Freakin Winter Wonderland Update
On Friday night I decided to completely close my bedroom window. It tends to be the warmest room in the house and although I like my climes warm I like to sleep slightly cool. So I usually have my window open a crack throughout the year. It got frikkin freezing enough on Friday that I closed it.
Or tried to. But the wood is warped with the cold. All that west coast moisture that seeps into everything has now expanded as it turned to ice and I could only, mostly, close the window. Likewise, I could only partly open the door under our front stairs where the garbage is stored. Luckily it was enough to get my head and arm in to toss the offending scraps.
This morning (Saturday though technically it's 12:10 am) I washed my face and put clothes in the washer. All good, but when I went to rinse dishes in the kitchen there was no hot water. Not just water that's gone cold but no water period, though I had the cold water well enough. My earlier fear of pipes freezing had come true.
My landlord and I put a heater in the cupboard and I walked up to the drive to meet a client and do some shopping. I now have a new appreciation for what it was like living on the farm in the 1900s and having to pile wood on the stove. You'd wear tights and socks and shirts and sweaters, and shawls, piling layer on layer to just keep warm. No care to how weirdly street person like you look.
If I'd been a guy, by the end of my walk today I would have been a woman because the proverbial brass balls had fallen off the monkey. I walked so quickly (uphill) to the Drive that I sweated and pulled off my cat paw mitts, unbuttoned the top button of my melton wool coat and loosened my woven silk scarf. I kept my hat on my head but when I met my client I took off my coat, unbuttoned the sweater and took off the hat.
By the end of the meeting, before we had even left I was putting on my hat, then buttoning my sweater, then putting on my coat. The sweat had cooled on my body by the time I walked to the bank, then to the post office. Not too bad...bearable if not freezing. But then I walked down to the market, carrying the parcel and the two bottles of wine from the liquor store (it may be an economic downturn but you can't tell from the empty shelves in the store...or maybe you can). I bought veggies and began the trek home. Two blocks and my right foot was completely numb with cold.
Not to mention I'd been cold in the liquour store and never warmed up. I stopped in the chocolate store, partially to thaw. My foot was hurting by then. But I didn't mind the wait in the store. I depopsiclized. I got home and it was positively balmy in comparison. And hooray, the water was working again.
Tonight I drove to a friend's yule party in New West. Fine weather but freakin' freezing. I left at 8:30 to go to a party in Kits and it had warmed up enought to not need mitts in the car. I picked up my friends along the way and we were there by about 9:15. Just as it began to snow. That's snow on top of snow and ice, with below freezing temperatures, that we've had for a week, in Vancouver. Where it never or just barely every snows!
Guess what? Coldest day ever! in one hundred years! That means since they start recording temperatures and I guess hell has frozen over because this sure feels like hell. So now it's 12:20. I made reasonably good time though all, and I mean ALL the roads are coated with snow. Anyone driving had windows covered with snow because it was falling faster than a heater could melt it. But I made it without incident.
Hunkered down. Grinchly grumpy about the stuff I moved away from Alberta to avoid. Sad that I won't be making it to my friend's memorial tomorrow because I won't be able to get through the snow. But grateful we're whole and we all made it in one piece and that everyone was driving sanely.
Addendum: It's Sunday noon, and it's still snowing! There must be a foot by now and no end in site. I didn't order this. Waaaaaah!
Or tried to. But the wood is warped with the cold. All that west coast moisture that seeps into everything has now expanded as it turned to ice and I could only, mostly, close the window. Likewise, I could only partly open the door under our front stairs where the garbage is stored. Luckily it was enough to get my head and arm in to toss the offending scraps.
This morning (Saturday though technically it's 12:10 am) I washed my face and put clothes in the washer. All good, but when I went to rinse dishes in the kitchen there was no hot water. Not just water that's gone cold but no water period, though I had the cold water well enough. My earlier fear of pipes freezing had come true.
My landlord and I put a heater in the cupboard and I walked up to the drive to meet a client and do some shopping. I now have a new appreciation for what it was like living on the farm in the 1900s and having to pile wood on the stove. You'd wear tights and socks and shirts and sweaters, and shawls, piling layer on layer to just keep warm. No care to how weirdly street person like you look.
If I'd been a guy, by the end of my walk today I would have been a woman because the proverbial brass balls had fallen off the monkey. I walked so quickly (uphill) to the Drive that I sweated and pulled off my cat paw mitts, unbuttoned the top button of my melton wool coat and loosened my woven silk scarf. I kept my hat on my head but when I met my client I took off my coat, unbuttoned the sweater and took off the hat.
By the end of the meeting, before we had even left I was putting on my hat, then buttoning my sweater, then putting on my coat. The sweat had cooled on my body by the time I walked to the bank, then to the post office. Not too bad...bearable if not freezing. But then I walked down to the market, carrying the parcel and the two bottles of wine from the liquor store (it may be an economic downturn but you can't tell from the empty shelves in the store...or maybe you can). I bought veggies and began the trek home. Two blocks and my right foot was completely numb with cold.
Not to mention I'd been cold in the liquour store and never warmed up. I stopped in the chocolate store, partially to thaw. My foot was hurting by then. But I didn't mind the wait in the store. I depopsiclized. I got home and it was positively balmy in comparison. And hooray, the water was working again.
Tonight I drove to a friend's yule party in New West. Fine weather but freakin' freezing. I left at 8:30 to go to a party in Kits and it had warmed up enought to not need mitts in the car. I picked up my friends along the way and we were there by about 9:15. Just as it began to snow. That's snow on top of snow and ice, with below freezing temperatures, that we've had for a week, in Vancouver. Where it never or just barely every snows!
Guess what? Coldest day ever! in one hundred years! That means since they start recording temperatures and I guess hell has frozen over because this sure feels like hell. So now it's 12:20. I made reasonably good time though all, and I mean ALL the roads are coated with snow. Anyone driving had windows covered with snow because it was falling faster than a heater could melt it. But I made it without incident.
Hunkered down. Grinchly grumpy about the stuff I moved away from Alberta to avoid. Sad that I won't be making it to my friend's memorial tomorrow because I won't be able to get through the snow. But grateful we're whole and we all made it in one piece and that everyone was driving sanely.
Addendum: It's Sunday noon, and it's still snowing! There must be a foot by now and no end in site. I didn't order this. Waaaaaah!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
T'is the Season
...for gross consumerism. Once upon a time it used to be that Christmas began in December and actually meant something spiritual. (I'm picking on the Christian, sort of, holiday because I don't know if other faiths go mass market this time of year.) Then stores decided it was best to put out all the seasonally afflicted merchandise at the beginning of the month. Soon, it seemed like a smart thing to put out the holiday decorations right after US Thanksgiving. Get all the turkey, fall and feasting goods done with, then there is room on the shelves for the next festivity.
But someone decided that Thanksgiving wasn't big enough or didn't dent the shelves with related crap, so Christmas decorations and lights and cards started coming out after Hallowe'en. We're now two months before Christmas and that hasn't been enough. This year, I saw Christmas related crapola in stores in September. Soon, we'll have it year round.
This frantic marketing makes me less seasonally cheerful and downright grumpy. A festive occasion is just that, an occasion, not a year-long extravaganza. It takes the specialness of the time away when one is inundated with the same driveling songs for months, though I notice that the stores do hold off on the tunes or their employees would go postal. But seeing the ho ho ho bits and garlands and cards and hats and stockings and lights etc. really kills the feeling for me.
But what is at the root of all this? Obviously it's greed, and probably the whole fear around the economy has whipped store execs into a froth where they're pushing everything onto shelves early. Buy buy buy, more more more. Make it super duper very bright, large and festive and red and green. It's enough to make all the reindeer drink until their noses are red.
The problem is that our society is based on a consumerism that is supposed to always grow. Sell more cars, sell more clothes, sell more everything or we can't get bonuses and more money to buy more stuff. What happens when the quantity stays the same in consumer purchases? Take cars for example. You can't price them out of everyone's pocketbook, but there's another way around it. Make them so they don't last as long. A Model T Ford could run for fifty years but we're lucky now if we get cars that make it to ten years. Planned obsolescence. Printers are the same. They cost less than a hundred bucks to buy but the ink cartridges that you have to keep using (and therefore should be cheaper because of mass consumption) are $60-$80. Not because ink is that expensive but because the company has to make money. Some printers are designed to eat ink every time you turn them on so feasibly you could use up a cartridge without printing a page (I got rid of that one fairly quickly.)
What happens when we have enough, when growth stays the same? Or what happens when the baby boomers stop buying and the next gen buys less? Panic. Maybe the economy fireworks didn't have to happen right now but it was bound to happen sooner or later. I thankfully, have only worked for one company where "grow grow grow" was their motto mixed with a lack of understanding people. People left on stress leave and others were walked out the door almost regularly. I hear this company was bought by a company wich was bought by a company and that more changes are happening. I'd rather slide down razor blades into a vat of vinegar than work there again.
So be prepared. Those Boxing Day sales have become Boxing week sales and pre-Christmas/Boxing week sales. They're about to become Christmas month sales and yet there will be more and more and more stuff. Costco has mass Santa suits that you can buy for cheap. Now every little Santa will look the same. How sweet. And if you think that Santa at the North Pole is kept busy with all his elves working over time because of the mass merchandising, think again. The little fellas have been laid off to cut costs and because everything was farmed out to a third world nation where the kids get to toil for twenty hours a day. Ho ho ho, enjoy the consumerism.
But someone decided that Thanksgiving wasn't big enough or didn't dent the shelves with related crap, so Christmas decorations and lights and cards started coming out after Hallowe'en. We're now two months before Christmas and that hasn't been enough. This year, I saw Christmas related crapola in stores in September. Soon, we'll have it year round.
This frantic marketing makes me less seasonally cheerful and downright grumpy. A festive occasion is just that, an occasion, not a year-long extravaganza. It takes the specialness of the time away when one is inundated with the same driveling songs for months, though I notice that the stores do hold off on the tunes or their employees would go postal. But seeing the ho ho ho bits and garlands and cards and hats and stockings and lights etc. really kills the feeling for me.
But what is at the root of all this? Obviously it's greed, and probably the whole fear around the economy has whipped store execs into a froth where they're pushing everything onto shelves early. Buy buy buy, more more more. Make it super duper very bright, large and festive and red and green. It's enough to make all the reindeer drink until their noses are red.
The problem is that our society is based on a consumerism that is supposed to always grow. Sell more cars, sell more clothes, sell more everything or we can't get bonuses and more money to buy more stuff. What happens when the quantity stays the same in consumer purchases? Take cars for example. You can't price them out of everyone's pocketbook, but there's another way around it. Make them so they don't last as long. A Model T Ford could run for fifty years but we're lucky now if we get cars that make it to ten years. Planned obsolescence. Printers are the same. They cost less than a hundred bucks to buy but the ink cartridges that you have to keep using (and therefore should be cheaper because of mass consumption) are $60-$80. Not because ink is that expensive but because the company has to make money. Some printers are designed to eat ink every time you turn them on so feasibly you could use up a cartridge without printing a page (I got rid of that one fairly quickly.)
What happens when we have enough, when growth stays the same? Or what happens when the baby boomers stop buying and the next gen buys less? Panic. Maybe the economy fireworks didn't have to happen right now but it was bound to happen sooner or later. I thankfully, have only worked for one company where "grow grow grow" was their motto mixed with a lack of understanding people. People left on stress leave and others were walked out the door almost regularly. I hear this company was bought by a company wich was bought by a company and that more changes are happening. I'd rather slide down razor blades into a vat of vinegar than work there again.
So be prepared. Those Boxing Day sales have become Boxing week sales and pre-Christmas/Boxing week sales. They're about to become Christmas month sales and yet there will be more and more and more stuff. Costco has mass Santa suits that you can buy for cheap. Now every little Santa will look the same. How sweet. And if you think that Santa at the North Pole is kept busy with all his elves working over time because of the mass merchandising, think again. The little fellas have been laid off to cut costs and because everything was farmed out to a third world nation where the kids get to toil for twenty hours a day. Ho ho ho, enjoy the consumerism.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Fashion Camouflage
Throughout humanity's history, we've used clothes for camouflage. I'm not talking about camo gear and leaf markings on your face to hide in the shadows while carrying out some special ops espionage. Although that is the most blatant aspect of camouflage it's not the most prevalent.
Besides the basics of keeping ourselves warm, we started to wear clothing for a host of other reasons. Ritualistically, masks, accessories and robes were donned to imitate a spirit or element or to make oneself pure or sacred in the eyes of the gods. Along the way standards of modesty and morality came in to play. Genitalia are a vulnerable area on most creatures, and for humans many other connotations are attached, such as virility, power, immortality, continuance of family. Religious aspects and beliefs, as well as just hiding something mysterious and scary (a woman's womb has often been related to the underworld) combined to cover the genital areas first.
In African countries, other warm climes, and throughout periods of history, women's breasts were not always considered erogenous, and therefore did not need covering. A period of Elizabethan dress had the decolletage so low that the nipples were visible. But that is more revealing than camouflaging.
Yet, we've used camouflage to enhance our bodies for a long time. Elizabethan men wore pads of horsehair to give the right line to their calves under their hose, as well as padding to form the preferred peascod bellies. And then there were those codpieces to make the genitals look way larger than they were. Women wore corsets to slim their waists, or bustles on the backs of dresses to enhance the womanly shape. Shoes of varying heights have been worn to convey status or make a person taller.
We do the same today. Slimline jeans with no pockets to show off the curves and line of a woman's leg and hip. Padded and uplift bras to make the breasts look larger, men's underwear (and chaps) that may shape and define the genitals or butt, (some of this for gay culture but not all), tuxes or other James Bond jackets for that sophisiticated, I-have-plenty-of-money look.
Makeup, since at least the Egyptians, has also been used for enhancement or to comouflage plainness, blemishes, birthmarks, or whatever reason was required. Wigs and toupees have been worn for many centuries as status symbols, to change one's looks, to make it look like a person had hair. It's not a new thing and most people do look better in clothes because they cover up all sorts of imperfections. Fashion can highlight a person's good points, change the line that the eye follows so that a person looks taller, broader, slimmer, bustier, etc.
Until we hit the day that we have our own heat generating forcefields, have tossed vanity and modesty to the side and do not need possessions or adornment, I think humans will continue to dress in a myriad of fashions, as well as camouflaging what is not seen as the current trend and fashion for bodies and looks. The realm of phsical changes has its own history, but that's for another day. We may yet hit again a look where flat chested, twiggy and adrogynous shapes are considered sexy and then the padded bras and fitted clothing will disappear...for awhile.
Monday, November 10, 2008
World Fantasy Convention 2008: Calgary
World Fantasy took place in Calgary's downtown at the Hyatt Regency Oct. 30-Nov. 1. Although the hotel had an exceptional collection of paintings and heavily focused ungulate statuary everywhere, it was still a very expensive hotel. I haven't been in a hotel in the US in the past five years that charged for internet and $1 for local calls. Internet cost $14 a day, an exorbitant fee, and the hotel price was high even at convention rates. We found Calgary pricey for food but cheap for alcohol, if you were buying it in stores but comparably priced to Vancouver in the hotel.
The con hospitality suites were smaller than I have seen at other cons and the air conditioning (hardly needed in Oct. in Calgary) was on high for most of the convention. The dealers room and art show were also small. From one discussion with a Seattle antiquarian dealer, the hoops and paperwork besides shipping costs are prohibitive and discourage international exchanges. The dealers room did have an interesting array of publishers. Some of them were Redjack, Fitzhenry/Red Deer Press, Tachyon, Edge, Talebones/Fairwood Press, OnSpec, Electric Velocipede, SFC table of members' work, Sunburst awards, used and new booksellers, and other dealers that I don't remember off hand.
The dealers room used to feature books and some jewellery. This is a professional convention of editors, publishers and authors (and some fans as well) and fan paraphernalia is not allowed. The books are still there but the jewellery is not. It seems the WFC board has put a stop to it after so many years because it is a "serious" convention. I let them know that quite a few of us "pros" enjoyed buying our piece of con jewellery over the years and that we missed it. Does serious mean no fun? After all, the jewellery could be juried to fit certain criteria as well.
As often is the case with these cons, I get to few or no panels. I went to one on Friday and then left halfway through to see another. Unfortunately both were clunky, with no real flow and very short to no answers by the pros on the panel.
Saturday, I missed half of one, which had George R.R. Martin, Tad Williams and Steve Erickson talking about killing significant characters in a novel. They may have been more focused in the first half but it wasn't bad for flow and was funny. Tad Williams, one of the special guests and emcee for the World Fantasy awards is a very funny guy.
The other panel I attended was "Why do we write dark fiction?" with Graham Joyce, Nancy Kilpatrick and David Morrell. It was moderated well by Nancy and thought provoking. Very interesting panel that had many of us thinking of their childhoods and surreal experiences.
Because this is long, I'll continue tomorrow with more on WFC.
The con hospitality suites were smaller than I have seen at other cons and the air conditioning (hardly needed in Oct. in Calgary) was on high for most of the convention. The dealers room and art show were also small. From one discussion with a Seattle antiquarian dealer, the hoops and paperwork besides shipping costs are prohibitive and discourage international exchanges. The dealers room did have an interesting array of publishers. Some of them were Redjack, Fitzhenry/Red Deer Press, Tachyon, Edge, Talebones/Fairwood Press, OnSpec, Electric Velocipede, SFC table of members' work, Sunburst awards, used and new booksellers, and other dealers that I don't remember off hand.
The dealers room used to feature books and some jewellery. This is a professional convention of editors, publishers and authors (and some fans as well) and fan paraphernalia is not allowed. The books are still there but the jewellery is not. It seems the WFC board has put a stop to it after so many years because it is a "serious" convention. I let them know that quite a few of us "pros" enjoyed buying our piece of con jewellery over the years and that we missed it. Does serious mean no fun? After all, the jewellery could be juried to fit certain criteria as well.
As often is the case with these cons, I get to few or no panels. I went to one on Friday and then left halfway through to see another. Unfortunately both were clunky, with no real flow and very short to no answers by the pros on the panel.
Saturday, I missed half of one, which had George R.R. Martin, Tad Williams and Steve Erickson talking about killing significant characters in a novel. They may have been more focused in the first half but it wasn't bad for flow and was funny. Tad Williams, one of the special guests and emcee for the World Fantasy awards is a very funny guy.
The other panel I attended was "Why do we write dark fiction?" with Graham Joyce, Nancy Kilpatrick and David Morrell. It was moderated well by Nancy and thought provoking. Very interesting panel that had many of us thinking of their childhoods and surreal experiences.
Because this is long, I'll continue tomorrow with more on WFC.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Teenage Sex and Teachers
When I was in high school we had this drama teacher. Big at emoting; surprise surprise. There were a range of us, from those who wanted to be there acting to those who were slacking with an easy elective class. I was still shy but actually liked to act. One of the better "acting" students was, if anything, very dramatic. She and this teacher would emote at each other constantly, to the exclusion of the rest of us. In fact, he barely taught us at points because they were too busy googoo gaaing at each other.
Were they having sex? Most of us thought so. Did we care? Not really. I only cared because my instruction was suffering as this teacher gave one student who didn't need it all of his time. Were we scandalized? No. Presuming they did have some sort of affair, I have to say that 17-18 year-old girl definitely was cognizant of what she did, wanted it, hoped for it. She certainly wasn't coerced or influenced and may have manipulated the situation.
Hero worship, big daddy syndrome or whatever you want to call it has gone on for a very long time. Hollywood perpetuates it with leading men often 20 years older than the women. Only in a few cases have they (Hollywood) been brave enough to actually have a female lead older than the male. Harold and Maude is an example of a spring/winter relationship where friendship and personality does not see the boundaries of age. I've never had a problem with relationships where one person was significantly younger/older than the other.
A friend of mine is married to a man 18 years older, and friends of theirs just got married and there is nearly 30 years difference. I've dated men 15 years younger or older than me. What balances age? Attitude, similarities, wisdom, youthfulness and maturity.
A teacher in their 20s or 30s attracted to an 18-year-old isn't that odd in our society. Where the problem comes in, today at least, is that there is seen to be an imbalance of power. A teacher could in essence coerce a student into having sex with them for passing grades. This applies as well to colleges and universities. Such fraternization isn't just frowned on but basis for dismissal. Old movies are rife with college professors married to the young women they slept with, causing their first marriage to fail. Of course, a professor can also be blackmailed by a student in such a relationship.
There have been several cases of teachers being charged; sometimes with true grounds for sexual harassment. Sometimes the instructor was blackmailed or set up without any truth. There are people who will use any situation to manipulate and have power over someone. Doing an internet search will show that there are enough cases of teachers of both genders having sex with their students.
A female Burnaby teacher at St. Thomas More school is now under investigation for alleged relations with a grade 11 student. Tom Ellison was convicted with a conditional sentence for his sexual congress with 17 students (that he confessed to being with). Twelve of seventeen former students complained of their relations with him in the 70s. Because laws for any teacher having sex with a person under 18 regardless of consent were not passed until 1988, the sentence was of a lesser degree.
There are two aspects to teacher/professors having sex with students. The main one for both is the abuse of a position of authority. For school teachers it is also the issue of underage sex. There are definite cases of rape and sexual abuse, but there are also the nebulous cases and it becomes unclear who instigated and if a student would ever suffer ill effects from the sexual encounters with their teachers. The simplest way to keep it from getting ambiguous is the law as it stands:
Were they having sex? Most of us thought so. Did we care? Not really. I only cared because my instruction was suffering as this teacher gave one student who didn't need it all of his time. Were we scandalized? No. Presuming they did have some sort of affair, I have to say that 17-18 year-old girl definitely was cognizant of what she did, wanted it, hoped for it. She certainly wasn't coerced or influenced and may have manipulated the situation.
Hero worship, big daddy syndrome or whatever you want to call it has gone on for a very long time. Hollywood perpetuates it with leading men often 20 years older than the women. Only in a few cases have they (Hollywood) been brave enough to actually have a female lead older than the male. Harold and Maude is an example of a spring/winter relationship where friendship and personality does not see the boundaries of age. I've never had a problem with relationships where one person was significantly younger/older than the other.
A friend of mine is married to a man 18 years older, and friends of theirs just got married and there is nearly 30 years difference. I've dated men 15 years younger or older than me. What balances age? Attitude, similarities, wisdom, youthfulness and maturity.
A teacher in their 20s or 30s attracted to an 18-year-old isn't that odd in our society. Where the problem comes in, today at least, is that there is seen to be an imbalance of power. A teacher could in essence coerce a student into having sex with them for passing grades. This applies as well to colleges and universities. Such fraternization isn't just frowned on but basis for dismissal. Old movies are rife with college professors married to the young women they slept with, causing their first marriage to fail. Of course, a professor can also be blackmailed by a student in such a relationship.
There have been several cases of teachers being charged; sometimes with true grounds for sexual harassment. Sometimes the instructor was blackmailed or set up without any truth. There are people who will use any situation to manipulate and have power over someone. Doing an internet search will show that there are enough cases of teachers of both genders having sex with their students.
A female Burnaby teacher at St. Thomas More school is now under investigation for alleged relations with a grade 11 student. Tom Ellison was convicted with a conditional sentence for his sexual congress with 17 students (that he confessed to being with). Twelve of seventeen former students complained of their relations with him in the 70s. Because laws for any teacher having sex with a person under 18 regardless of consent were not passed until 1988, the sentence was of a lesser degree.
There are two aspects to teacher/professors having sex with students. The main one for both is the abuse of a position of authority. For school teachers it is also the issue of underage sex. There are definite cases of rape and sexual abuse, but there are also the nebulous cases and it becomes unclear who instigated and if a student would ever suffer ill effects from the sexual encounters with their teachers. The simplest way to keep it from getting ambiguous is the law as it stands:
The Criminal Code does not now criminalize consensual sexual activity with
or between persons 14 or over, unless it takes place in a relationship of trust
or dependency, in which case sexual activity with persons over 14 but under 18
can constitute an offence, notwithstanding their consent. Even consensual
activity with those under 14 but over 12 may not be an offence if the accused is
under 16 and less than two years older than the complainant. The exception, of
course, is anal intercourse, to which unmarried persons under 18 cannot legally
consent, although both the Ontario Court of Appeal(3)
and the Quebec Court of Appeal(4)
have struck down the relevant section of the Criminal Code.Blame can often be shared. There is a bigger difference of sex with a 14-year-old than with an 17-year-old. Coerced sex is never right but consensual sex gets iffy. Teachers are now being tried mostly on the basis that they are going against the law. If anyone asked me in a court of law if that high school classmate of long ago was coerced, I would definitely say not. But if the affair affected how we were being taught, I would definitely say yes. And if one had broken up with the other, there could have been blackmail. It's better to keep it black and white.
http://www.cbc.ca/canada/british-columbia/story/2007/01/26/bc-ellison.html
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Depression: The Invisible Battle
In the last decade there have been more books on depression and people talking openly. Although I think there can be a point of over-saturation, we're not there yet and more dialogue on depression will people help recognize and understand it better. There are still too many people who live under the black cloud of despair or more tragically, kill themselves out of depression.
I speak not from an outsider's point of view but from the intimate perspective of having suffered mild depression to full-blown clinical depression. The first time was probably in my twenties when my boyfriend of three years and I broke up. I moved to Vancouver and lived for another three years in a somewhat different personality. It was a bit kamikaze, reckless, unhappy and angry. I ended up going to my doctor who sent me to a psychiatrist. He determined that I was working my way out of the depression by that point and didn't put me on meds. That's pretty rare for psychiatrists who are married to the pharma industry. Psychologists aren't covered in Canada's medicare but psychiatrists are.
Perhaps I dipped into depression a few times after that but it was when I was dealing with my eating disorder that I was first put on anti-depressants. I can't say they changed my mood or state of mind but eventually it seems my brain chemistry balanced out and I stopped the binging and quit the meds.
In 2001 I had gone through a few things and had a boyfriend, but I was pretty poor and nothing seemed to be going right for me, My health was deteriorating, partly caused by a repetitive stress injury in the movie industry and now I was poor. Everything built up. I was freelancing but not full time so I'd go and work, then come home and crawl into bed. I forced myself to eat a bowl of soup a day. I couldn't deal with anything: answering the phone, changing a doctor's appointment, coming up with answers to questions. I cocooned for months. And then September 11th happened and that added to the fear and gloom. My elbow was also hurting and no amount of physiotherapy was helping. After many sessions the physiotherapist said she couldn't help anymore.
I went to my doctor with this symptom and she mentioned depression. I didn't want to see a psychiatrist because I don't think they do much (the last one when I had the eating disorder, didn't) and I didn't want to go on anti-depressants because they're hard on teeth and can cause increased cavities (less salivation occurs and bacteria builds up). I also argued that I had reasons to be depressed and listed them. My doctor said, true you can be depressed and have good reasons but it's not about the reasons but how you cope. In essence, I wasn't coping very well at all.
My doctor gave me a questionnaire to fill out and bring back. Of all the questions the only one I didn't have a dire answer to was the one about suicide. I've never been suicidal, not even when depressed. My doctor took one look at my answers and said, "You're going on medication." So I did and luckily she got me a compassionate prescription, which is free through the pharmaceutical companies because there was no way I could afford it and I would have stopped buying them,
Since that time I try to gauge where I'm at, watch my moods and feelings. But depression is a tricky thing. It doesn't always manifest the same way every time. Sometimes you can function but you can't eat. Sometimes you're just in physical pain that won't go away. Sometimes you are fine during the day and plummet every evening. Sometimes you can't eat or eat too much, can't sleep or sleep too much. For me, it's never been quite the same so it gets hard to know for sure.
I sometimes have to look back over a period of a year and see if I have shifted much. I try to catch it before it gets as bad as 2001. I don't like being in that space and everything is far too dark. I tend not to read or watch the news because the concentration and the repetition of the bad and horrid gets to me. Even the radio can be too much but I do like to know what's going on in the world.
Depression is not a physical ailment but it can become one. It can make people as sick as any disease and kill them. Understanding what a person may be going through will help people heal. Calling them crazy and whacked, which we all do, may describe their current state but it won't help them get better. Depression is a disease with varying symptoms and understanding will help those who have it and those who have to be around it.
I speak not from an outsider's point of view but from the intimate perspective of having suffered mild depression to full-blown clinical depression. The first time was probably in my twenties when my boyfriend of three years and I broke up. I moved to Vancouver and lived for another three years in a somewhat different personality. It was a bit kamikaze, reckless, unhappy and angry. I ended up going to my doctor who sent me to a psychiatrist. He determined that I was working my way out of the depression by that point and didn't put me on meds. That's pretty rare for psychiatrists who are married to the pharma industry. Psychologists aren't covered in Canada's medicare but psychiatrists are.
Perhaps I dipped into depression a few times after that but it was when I was dealing with my eating disorder that I was first put on anti-depressants. I can't say they changed my mood or state of mind but eventually it seems my brain chemistry balanced out and I stopped the binging and quit the meds.
In 2001 I had gone through a few things and had a boyfriend, but I was pretty poor and nothing seemed to be going right for me, My health was deteriorating, partly caused by a repetitive stress injury in the movie industry and now I was poor. Everything built up. I was freelancing but not full time so I'd go and work, then come home and crawl into bed. I forced myself to eat a bowl of soup a day. I couldn't deal with anything: answering the phone, changing a doctor's appointment, coming up with answers to questions. I cocooned for months. And then September 11th happened and that added to the fear and gloom. My elbow was also hurting and no amount of physiotherapy was helping. After many sessions the physiotherapist said she couldn't help anymore.
I went to my doctor with this symptom and she mentioned depression. I didn't want to see a psychiatrist because I don't think they do much (the last one when I had the eating disorder, didn't) and I didn't want to go on anti-depressants because they're hard on teeth and can cause increased cavities (less salivation occurs and bacteria builds up). I also argued that I had reasons to be depressed and listed them. My doctor said, true you can be depressed and have good reasons but it's not about the reasons but how you cope. In essence, I wasn't coping very well at all.
My doctor gave me a questionnaire to fill out and bring back. Of all the questions the only one I didn't have a dire answer to was the one about suicide. I've never been suicidal, not even when depressed. My doctor took one look at my answers and said, "You're going on medication." So I did and luckily she got me a compassionate prescription, which is free through the pharmaceutical companies because there was no way I could afford it and I would have stopped buying them,
Since that time I try to gauge where I'm at, watch my moods and feelings. But depression is a tricky thing. It doesn't always manifest the same way every time. Sometimes you can function but you can't eat. Sometimes you're just in physical pain that won't go away. Sometimes you are fine during the day and plummet every evening. Sometimes you can't eat or eat too much, can't sleep or sleep too much. For me, it's never been quite the same so it gets hard to know for sure.
I sometimes have to look back over a period of a year and see if I have shifted much. I try to catch it before it gets as bad as 2001. I don't like being in that space and everything is far too dark. I tend not to read or watch the news because the concentration and the repetition of the bad and horrid gets to me. Even the radio can be too much but I do like to know what's going on in the world.
Depression is not a physical ailment but it can become one. It can make people as sick as any disease and kill them. Understanding what a person may be going through will help people heal. Calling them crazy and whacked, which we all do, may describe their current state but it won't help them get better. Depression is a disease with varying symptoms and understanding will help those who have it and those who have to be around it.
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