“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you ca’n’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”
(Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, “Pig and Pepper”)
I recently had a piece published in Open Minds Quarterly, a print publication from NISA (the Northern Initiative for Social Action), based in Sudbury, Ontario. Thanks to Ella Jane Myers and everyone at the journal for their interest in “Breath.” You can purchase a print copy of the spring 2019 issue on the OMQ website.
“Breath” is memoir. I seem to be writing more memoir these days. I’m of two minds about it. On one hand, I have to ask myself why I do it. How is my experience of the world more worth writing about than anyone else’s? It isn’t, of course. I feel something like pain whenever I hear of someone’s story that is brushed off, made light of, or just forgotten. On the other hand, I’m drawn in by the process. And not necessarily with my own story, but with telling it, if that makes any sense.
I wrote “Breath” ages ago, but I revised it specifically for the call from Open Minds Quarterly. I’m very glad they accepted it for their spring 2019 issue. You can read the first paragraph below. You can read more by purchasing a copy and supporting the journal.
And if you know someone who suffers from panic disorder, or any other anxiety inducing disorder, gently direct them to a place they can get some help. If you’re a student, go talk to someone in counceling services. If you aren’t a student, talk to your doctor, or find a support group online. I lived with panic disorder for fifteen years before I even knew it had a name. If you suffer from panic disorder, then you will suffer, whether you are alone or in the company of others. Suffering, like joy, is best shared.
“Trouble breathing—sudden panic. Why can’t I breathe. My head is spinning. We are driving. Am I going to pass out? My voice sounds distant as I try to say something is wrong. It sounds to my ears as though someone else is speaking. I wonder, in a distant chamber of my brain, if I’m about to pass out. Maybe I’m dying.”
Summer in Edmonton is a time of festivals, even with the downtown core under construction. You can always find something to do in town during July and August.
I’ve been to most of the festivals that happen during an Edmonton summer, but July and August is also a time to be a tourist at home. You will be surprised at all the things to explore.
Enjoy one of my favourites—riding the High Level Streetcar. This short video will give you a look into Edmonton’s river valley. So your perspective is clear, the streetcar is traveling north across the river, and you are looking west and a little north, more than 200 feet above the North Saskatchewan River.
Recently, I came across the American Library Association’s (ALA) list of the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of the 1990s. The list is worth perusing, even if you’re only scanning for the kids’ books.
Here’s a few challenged books I find noteworthy, all of which I’ve read and many of which I’ve taught:
• Katherine Paterson—one of my favourite young adult authors—has two spots: Bridge to Terabithia at #8, and The Great Gilly Hopkins at #20.
• Lois Lowry’s the Giver—not a great surprise—sits at #11.
• Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George appears at #32—this one I find particularly mystifying.
• Harry Potter—no real surprise—sits at #48.
Judy Blume has four spots on the list and Mark Twain has two, Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer.
And in case you don’t look through the entire list, these children’s and young adult books share a spot on the same list with books such as Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies, by Nancy Friday, and The Dead Zone, by Stephen King. This isn’t a comment on either Friday or King—just some additional perspective.
The point, people challenge books for many reasons, many of which are petty, unthinking, homophobic, or racist. If anything, a list of challenge books will provide you with some interesting summer reading.
I’m fortunate to live in a neighbourhood where I can experience nature close up. Between the abundance of birdlife all around to the coyotes that live on the University farm, I encounter nature every day. Here are two such encounters—one with coyotes and one with geese—that were closer than I usually expect.
Years ago, when I still lived in University housing with my kids, my youngest daughter came running home one day to tell me she was almost attacked by a peregrine falcon. I explained, patiently, that peregrine falcons didn’t live in the neighbourhood, and they certainly didn’t attack people.
“But I saw it,” she said, “I saw its prey-bird beak and everything!”
She was adamant, and I had to let that one go. Much to my chagrin, I learned later my daughter did see a type of falcon that day—a Merlin, a small hawk that feeds on songbirds and lives all over the neighbourhood. This species has made a recovery in recent decades, especially in urban areas, thanks to the ban on the use of DDT.
These birds, like so many other species of bird and small mammals, make their homes in urban areas. I’m grateful every day to meet those birds and animals who still share my neighbourhood, and happy to know that an urban setting can’t keep out the natural world.
I made this trip to New Zealand last year with my daughter. The visit into the Ruakuri Caves was both an unnerving and profoundly moving experience. Enjoy!
June 27 is PTSD Awareness Day. If you aren’t familiar with PTSD, or post-traumatic stress disorder, you might recall it as shell shock or combat fatigue. The history if PTSD extends back to the nineteenth century, but the American Psychiatric Association didn’t recognize the disorder until 1980.
PTSD has been most commonly associated with soldiers, but victims of sexual assault and other forms of trauma also experience this disorder. PTSD can be difficult to diagnose. It can present in multiple ways, including addiction, depression, dissociation, and sleep disorders. It’s a constellation of symptoms that develop as a result of a traumatic experience. You can learn more about this disorder on The PTSD Association of Canada website.
Earlier this year, I published a piece called “Running Blind” in The Real Story, an online UK magazine. I don’t specifically refer to PTSD in this piece, but I’m trying to describe my child’s experience of the disorder, based on what I know of it now. I lost my sight in a car accident in 1974, and it took me more than thirty years to begin to understand the long-term effects of that experience. Dealing with trauma is excruciating, but asking questions and seeking help is a good place to start.
In Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence – from Domestic Abuse to Political Terror, Judith Herman writes:
“traumatized people relive, in their bodies, the moments of terror that they cannot describe in words. Dissociation appears to be the mechanism by which intense sensory and emotional experience are disconnected from the social domain of language and memory, the internal mechanism by which terrorized people are silenced” (afterward).