Have Nots-Vs-Haves-Vs-Have Mores

When you write about the people in your life, you have to be conscious of the possibility that they or someone who knows them might read your words. Which is why, when I do, I try to refer to them in the most oblique terms possible and stripping out all potential identifiers. But, today, I am gong to write about the people in my work life, and since I am leaving my workplace and the country soon, I am not particularly bothered. Last week, my office mate came in and told me to watch a video recording of a faculty meeting in which many of colleagues had berated our head of department. This office mate is not very involved in the department, so he was shocked by the rancour in the meeting. Apparently, academic colleagues from the same department with a research profile were to receive hefty pay increases. The pay increases for the most senior colleagues would be more than my salary. I was aghast at the knowledge, until I realised that I didn't have a dog in the fight. My colleagues with the same profile as me (teaching) but on permanent contracts had been receiving pay supplements to keep them from changing jobs, which I knew nothing about. They were angry because their pay supplements would not be increased. Yes, their anger is justified because both academic profiles are supposed to be equal on paper, and these differential pay increases enshrine the superiority of one over the other. Later the same day, I went to drinks with my colleagues. The colleague I am closest to had warned that conservation would strictly be limited to griping about the pay increases and what to do about it. I should have heeded her warning and steered clear because it was a have-not (me), listening to the haves complaining about the have-mores. To be fair to them, many of them possibly didn't know that I was not receiving the pay supplement. But, I found the conservation incredibly tedious and a tad self-involved. These are the same colleagues who have been ignoring my emails about rallies and open letters about Palestine, None of them are part of the lecturers union. None of them are shrinking violets who are incapable of speaking up for themselves against the powers that be. So, their silence on these other issues stems from indifference not fear. People who are incapable of solidarity themselves should not expect solidarity. (I know the last few sentences make me sound more bitter than I feel, and that my colleagues are no different from the majority of the population.) I felt even more like an alien in the department, and I am so glad that I am leaving. I should add that I have never negotiated for a pay increase in my life, and this is not a statement of virtue. As a male (and upper-caste, in an Indian context), I am not ill-served by existing pay structures, and having well-to-do parents means I have never had to worry about money. I am also frugal by nature (sometimes a bit too much) and I have never struggled to live within my salary. I feel angered by inequality in society and of course I am not fine with being paid less than others. But my anger doesn't have the sting that comes from personal experience of deprivation, unlike some of my friends. My thriftiness is a personality trait, and not something borne out of necessity.  

Activist Circles

 I am realising how tiresome activist groups can be. I am on the periphery of two organising groups for Palestine. One is old-school with a clear governance structure, which runs pretty smoothly. I am not privy to the diagreements, which I am sure there are. The other is the group of staff supporting the student encampment. The student encampment appears to be pretty horizontalist in its structure, and the staff group is mix of old-school vs younger people who have their own ideas. I don't want to pick sides because I find each side almost equally tiresome. My observation is the students don't seek the guidance of staff and don't want staff to be involved in decision-making, although they want our support and solidarity. The staff do not seem to appreciate that. The old-schoolers fear that a badly organised movement could sabotage itself by being too aggressive or too soft or foolish. The younger staff seem more in tune with the students, but do feel they have a big part to play too. Two factions have formed among the staff group, and the whatsapp group and the much smaller Signal group are on fire. Anyone who hasn't checked their messages in a few hours would struggle to make hear or tail of what has transpired and what has been agreed upon. I have a newfound respect for the discipline of organisational studies. Organising a group of volunteers when the goal is not clear feels like a fiendishly tough business. There is nothing stopping people from leaving in a huff, and many do. 

The Courage of the Cautious

A few minutes after I finished writing last week's blog post I was struck by panic. It turned out there were Zionist students in the audience recording the speeches at the rally. After the rally, the Zionists had tried to get an old woman arrested for anti-semitic speech. When I heard about this, I freaked out. I started going over what I had said in my speech, and whether I had said anything that could be construed as anti-semitic by bad-faith actors. Needless to say, I didn't sleep too well that night. The panic was a learning experience though. One doesn't realise one's risk threshold until one has neared it or crossed it, and in this instance, I felt like I had bitten off more than I could chew, even though my fear was irrational. On the other hand, courage is like a muscle that gets stronger with exercise. For instance, at the beginning of the genocide, I was nervous to go on protests because of my immigration status and the threats from the government. Now, I don't even give it on a second thought, even though I know someone who has been arrested on of these demos. To be sure, personality matters, a cautious person is unlikely to become a braveheart no mater how much they exercise their courage muscle. I am cautious by nature, and there is nothing wrong with that. Not everyone needs to be the tip of the spear, you need people for the shaft. NO revolution or radical social change is possible without the cautious becoming more courageous because the cautious are more numerous compared to the firebrands. And, the surprising thing is the next morning I was prepping my next speech. I spoke again at a rally today. While I was mentally prepared to be recorded this time and had gone over my speech with a fine tooth comb, I did face a moment of panic last night when someone mentioned how organised the Zionists were. But the moment passed quickly, and while I felt a bit nervous this morning, I gave my speech and also stepped into emcee at the last moment. And, I feel quite nonchalant about speech-giving now. I know this doesn't mean I won't feel anxious about it in the future. Anxiety is a funny animal who doesn't follow the laws of reason, such as they maybe, but I do feel like I have given my courage muscles a good workout in recent weeks and months. 

My First Rally Speech

 I spoke at a rally at Bristol uni in support of the student encampment for Gaza today. There is a perpetual shortage of speakers at rallies at Bristol Uni, which is not the case for the bigger rallies outside the uni. IN those rallies, speakers have to be reminded to stick to their allotted time. At the last rally at the uni, I was asked if I wanted to speak, but I had declined. This time when the call for speakers went out, I foud  it difficult to say No. Gaza, and, more recently, the repression of the student protests in the US has been top of my mind. So, I thought why not channel some of that strength of feeling into a speech? I realise its a bit self-involved of me to write about my speech delivery and it makes me feel like I gave the speech just for the attention. Well, I would be lying if the attention was not a factor in my decision to give a speech, even if it was a minor factor. I realised rally speaking is a different kettle of fish compared to seminar speaking and I think I spoke too fast. There is a temptation to speak fast for effect, but if its much faster than your natural pace, you struggle to maintain the pace. It didn't help that I was shivering as I spoke because it was very nippy. And, some of it was plain old nerves. I know that people become better speakers with practice. I have watched students' rally speaking skills improve before my eyes. 

Students and Palestine

 I have spent much of the past few days following the student protests for Palestine in the US. The sight of frail-looking teenagers squaring up against American cops who are built as pit-bulls--throwing themselves on the gears of the US war machine, as one commenter on Twitter put it--is both exhilarating and terrifying. And, most of the protestors seem to be female. Zionism is on the downswing, but it is so tied up with capitalism that it will either drag it down or will have to be abandoned by capitalism. We are far away from the former and not much closer to the latter. Many more people in the Wes will have to put their liberty and possibly even their lives on the line for that to happen. it is easy to get discouraged by the enormity of the struggle. It is also easy to feel sniffy towards those not ostensibly participating in it and able to go about their day-to-day lives without too much trouble. The protests at my university have been very quiet affairs, with just a handful of staff, and not many more students. But, I feel both pride in and awe at the students. Before our eyes, they are turning into more confident speakers and effective organizers. Their campaigns have become more targeted, and are now demanding concrete steps by the university to end its complicity with the arms trade, rather than general calls for a ceasefire. But, the sight that moves me the most is how tiny they are. It feels like the tiniest frailest students turn up for Palestine. None of them would like out of place in school uniforms.

Anything is Possible

 As I have said before, I don't do book reviews, but I do do book raves. I am on a Elizabeth Strout reading spree at the moment, and I am beginning to appreciate why she is considered one of the greatest living writers. I just finished Anything is Possible, which is a sequel to My Name is Lucy Barton. Many people have written about the accessibility and profundity of her novels. Hillary Mantel had this to say about My Name is Lucy Barton: Writing of this quality comes from a commitment to listening, from a perfect attunement to the human condition, from an attention to reality so exact that it goes beyond a skill and becomes a virtue.” I liked MNILB more than AIP, but today I am going to talk about AIP because I think I have found what to put on a new post-it note as I navigate the uncertainty about my career. The post-it note will be the title of the book, which is a shortened version of a mantra from one of my favourite Yoga with Adrienne sessions: "Trust, Accept, Remain Open to All Possibilities". Both phrases might seem unremarkable, and even trite, unless you feel their truth like I did. The novel itself is about how the ghosts from our past might not blight our lives forever. How opportunities to heal maybe be found in the most expected places and times. not 'can' but 'may', which doesn't put all the onus on the person. Because how can we ever be sure that steps we are taking to heal are making any difference, even if they are not actively hurting us? What I like about the phrase AIP is its balance between openness and acceptance. It is not "Anything can happen" which is a statement of fact devoid of deeper meaning and sets too much store on fate. Equally, its not "You can do/be anything", which feels (at least to me) like trite boosterism. Even if you have the ability and motivation to do/be what you want, fate has to line up behind you. The reason I think boosterism is dangerous is it can easily turn into self-flagellation when said goals are not realised. AIP, on the other hand, gives a nod to fate, but without surrendering to it while urging openness not just about the possibilities but also about our goals. Or at least that is how I read it. We may not know what we want or even need it until we stumble upon it. 

My First Iftaar

Today, I fasted for the first time in my life ahead of a Grand Iftaar for Palestine. Attending an iftaar without fasting if one is able to feels like copping a free meal, and since this Iftaar was dedicated to Palestine, fasting was a no-brainer. According to the rules, the fast was to begin at 4:56 am, but I decided to begin my fast after having a cup of tea and a bite to eat. I didn't need to fixate on the precise timing since I wasn't going to pray in any case, And, since I am an early riser, I figured that wouldn't be too late, and I ended up beginning my fast shortly after sunrise. I thought going without water would be the difficult bit, but I was wrong. Going without food was more difficult, but I didn't feel stomach-churning hunger pangs. it helped that I was home and the only physical activities I did was light yoga and cleaning the kitchen. The Grand Iftaar was nice and very welcoming towards non-Muslims. I am happy I fasted in solidarity for Palestine, but I don't think I will be fasting again. I didn't feel any more affinity with Palestine than I usually do. I  can imagine it being a soul-cleansing activity for believers but I am not one. . Bereft of the religious and spiritual elements, fasting is simply food and fluid deprivation. I