rhyll | miriam rothschild: naturalist and flea expert (Reply)

In the office again. My life is becoming very small. Work - home - broadway.

Today was talking to officemates.

Listening and reading about the massacre in Iraq, which again is largely being framed and reported as an aberration. How unusual is this kind of thing when the "most realistic" training camps the US has set up work on a 5:1 civilian:insurgent ratio, instead of the 1000:1 ratio that more accurately represents the situation. These scared kids being sent over there thinking that everyone is the enemy, not knowing what the hell they're doing, not able to see Iraqis as people like them. Of course, the latter is necessary - how can you kill someone if you know they are just as much a person as you are? We are not made for this. I'm glad that some US soldiers, at least, are baulking at what they're being asked to do.

Today I cooked soup, and thought about my response to India and Pakistan. One of the things that I catch myself thinking, over and over, when I see the slums or beggars or even middle-class kids who are hemmed in by so many things, is "what would I do in that situation?" It is a habit I am trying to force myself out of. Mostly because I can see that what I'm doing is trying to find a way out of my guilt - that I can be so lucky, and have so much, just because of the luck of the draw. I keep trying to tell myself, "If I was in their situation, I would still have managed", so that I can feel that the difference between us is somehow justified, that I have some claim to be where I am.

And it's a question that makes no sense, too. I wouldn't be who I am if I was born in a slum, even if I was born in a very traditional and strict family. So there's no point trying to tell myself I would handle things differently. The simple fact is that the luck of the draw has created me, and slum-dwellers, and beggars, and middle-class kids who can't hold their partners' hands in public. I can't ever make myself feel okay about the situation, because it's a pretty awful situation and I will never, ever, be able to do enough to make up for the fact that there are children dying of preventable diseases, people whose talents are wasted, beautiful possibilities that will never flower.

There's no point trying to make it seem justified, and there's no point dwelling on it too much. It just has to be one of the things that informs how I live my life, along with the small wonders that remind me that the world can be an amazing place.

And now for something completely different.

I have decided that I will be taking up boofuls suggestion, and restructuring my thesis as follows:

"Chapter One: Why global justice movements are kooler than you.
Chapter Two: All the kool kids heart global justice movements.
Chapter Three: WHY DON'T YOU LOVE THEM, TOO?!
Chapter Four: No, for reals, they're totally awesome.
Chapter Five: I went to India, and I, like, hung out with the global justice movement, and we totally drank tea and stuff. It was way kool.
Chapter Six: THE END?"

I am currently working on a paper on human security and the global justice movement. I have some ideas that I am not totally displeased with, which is making my life somewhat more intellectually stimulating.

For additional treats, my mathematician friend from India sent me a delightful and chatty email today, which has been been rather cheering.