US Visa

When people ask me how I feel about my upcoming move to the US, I reply that I haven't given it much thought because my mind is occupied by events in and for Palestine. But, today, as I was filling up the US visa application form, which is a combination of inane (such as the name of the supervisor in y previous job) and creepy (such as my social media handles) questions, it hit me--this is a big change. Maybe it was the invasive question that I would never encounter in the UK, maybe it was because I was taking the first concrete steps towards my move. Maybe it was reading that a condition of my visa is I will have to spend two years in India after my visa expires, even if I marry a US citizen. The feeling that this may be a big change, but a temporary one. People say those whose who like living in the UK, tend not to like the US, and vice versa. The last person who told me this was my friend's mother. My life in the UK for the past few years has not been hunky-dory, even though there have not been any major mishaps. In the past few months, I have felt that I am ready for a change, but change is still a bit unnerving. 

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.