greyhound bus towards Southern Ontario
seven tangerines in my bag
& a heart with uncertainty.

while couples are affectionate,
I'm huddled in the corner, reading
on resisting the empire.

I hate it when it's lonely in the corner.
I hate it when resistance is lonely.

    why do i call myself naomi Sea?
    firstly, it's a play on my middle initial, being C.

    when i look up the word "sea" in the dictionary, these definitions appeal to me:

* a widely extended, copious, or overwhelming quantity
* something that suggests the ocean in its overwhelming sweep or vastness
* anything apparently limitless in quantity or volume

at sea,

at full sea; at the height of flood tide; hence, at the height.
"But now God's mercy was at full sea." --J. Taylor.

go to sea,

just cause.. if you haven't seen this music video already... you have to now.

"the only constant is change"
 i think heraclitus said it.

he also said this:
"you cannot step twice into the same river; for other waters are ever flowing on to you."

This river I step in is not the river I stand in.

i cross the bridge above often; for placement-related purposes, to my second favourite coffee shop, to go swimming, to visit some of my favourite neighbourhoods.

i am also metaphorically crossing this bridge daily, from one point of change to another, as new ways of being forcibly present themselves to me. many of the very recent changes that have been presented to me i am having trouble seeing as positive, and am finding it easy to mourn about loss in a very self-centred, inward-looking way. a close friend moving away. a forced step into taking more leadership&responsibility with inter-varsity. loss of immediate proximity of a mentor. loss of a favourite professor.  

change for all parties involved. change is never done in isolation. or affecting just one person.

i would like wrap up the loose strings of this post, so it could be cohesive, but am unsure if i can.

i know in my heart there is another constant besides change; that's the creator, jesus, spirit.. .
i know in my heart if i spend more time in reflection i can move away from my selfishness around change.. .
i know in my heart my time in university has been all about change, and i always survive.. .
i know in my heart there are some things about me that do remain, like love, and hope, and faith.. .

So, I do placement at an agency that provides rent-geared to income, independent housing for consumer/survivors [folks who consume/have survived mental health services].

we were doing a lease signing with a new tenant & was "pretty well" on the mental health spectrum, she was the sweetest woman, and we got to the part where we needed to write down an an emergency contact and she said "well.. when i get a doctor you can write that down"
& we asked "well.. um, what about friends or family, or.."

& she said, really somberly and clearly,

"I don't have family or friends. The disability took care of that."

aaand i started crying. thankfully the tears didn't leave the area of my eye. I was just so upset and angry and heart broken.

I am having a potluck party on Saturday to celebrate my birth, I'm excited.
I'm excited for the exec's secret santa exchange that requires writing a poem.
I'm very much anticipating my & Cheryl's trip to Chicago on Dec 13&14. She is a flight attendant so the flight is stupidly cheap. I am so thankful that I'm able to return to the city I love for a second time in a year! and in an Obama-elected Chicago.. oh my goshhhh!

I am not enjoying waking up everyday with a headache requiring tylenol.
I fully acknowledge I am drinking too much caffeine as of late, and am faultily considering lattes a meal.
I am anxious about this important paper due Friday & big presentation Wednesday. There is simply no time.
I am not looking forward to working 8pm to 8am tonight, amidst my piles of homework. Worst. Timing. Ever.
I am not anticipating staying up all night Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday... which seems very viable.

Okay, Naomi, let's try to do some work...

i was looking at my header image, which is a piece of art I made probably around age 6 or 7.

"If you are sad, come to me. I will help you."

I realized it is strikingly similar to the passage that got me through the day today, when Jesus was preaching in Galilee:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

today, while i entered jet fuel, my favourite coffee shop, the owner said "let me hold the door for you, soy mocha queen!". i smiled so hard & said "you got it!"... and then when i ordered, the barista said, "soy mocha?"

it just made me so happy.

i worked on my social work paper there for two and a half hours, then went home and folded laundry and drank orange juice.

i effing hate folding laundry. hate hate hate. it is really difficult for me to handle. i need to take breaks because i get so frustrated. i no longer fold underwear or pajamas because i find that useless.

also, i've been listening to air's album talkie walkie soo much.
I LOVE IT! especially venus & cherry blossom girl.
really into air-ish/caribou-ish stuff right now.

i LOVE my placement and am excited about how i can make it my own-- there is so much room for initiative. i freaking loveeeeee housing work and want to stay in it for a long time.

WE HAVE MICE IN OUR HOUSE AND I HATE THEM and their droppings.

my room is clean. this is exceptional and i am very proud of myself. mostly brought on my the fear of  mice and them hiding in my piles of clothes.
i have been doing a lot of domestic things this weekend, that i have been neglecting lately. i cleaned the washroom, my room, vacuumed, did lots of dishes, did laundry and folded it, ........... they are all a very big struggle for me.

a reflection for my social work practice turned into my frist to-be-published magazine article for ryerson's fem mag........
that rules!
along the way, i learned how to write a magazine article (structure!), spoke to some wonderful women, and accidentally became way more of a women's rights activist than i was before.
so here's what was "patriarchal scripts, biking in the park & getting your hands off my sister"....
(still is in the (not mine) editing process).
no names because i don't want the world to find my blog.... even though it doesn't come up on google searches.

i promise sometime soon i will write about other things.... :)

Taking it Back: A Reclamation of Space      (subject to change to make it more catchy/luring)

        It’s already dark when I arrive... on my bicycle, I follow the sounds of music and voices to lead me to Grange Park. It’s a cool, September night.  I don’t recognize anyone I know, so I sit down and listen to some narratives. Then, as a pleasant surprise, I see my favourite professor. I screamed and hugged her. She’s here with her kids! Soon after, my fellow burgeoning feminist friend, A* shows up. We’re excited together, for our first Take Back the Night. Soon, we are marching, overwhelmed with emotion and chanting together, “Hey mister mister, get your hands off my sister!”

Take Back the Night’s theme this year’s was “Surviving Our HerStories”, which, according to D*, organizer of Toronto’s Take Back the Night, was inspired by the stories of women in the community. The goal this year was to put women from all communities in the forefront. D* emphasized that the experience of survivorship remains the same regardless of time, and so it is important to march for today. Narratives in the rally spoke of stories of survivorship of sexual violence and rape, the fear we face as women, and becoming empowered to be liberated from that fear.

One particular statistic tells us that half of all women in Canada have experienced violence- either physical or sexual*. But research is never perfect. Surely, statistics underestimate the scope of rape.

Take Back the Night has always fought against violence against women. The origins of Take Back the Night are disputed, but we know that in North America, it began in 1978 in San Francisco, as a revolt against sexual violence involving women who had been oppressed due to the pornography industry**. Issues of survivorship, rape, sexual violence, safety, equality and empowerment prevail in TBTN today.

Take Back the Night has been run in Toronto since 1980, always at a grassroots level, started by the Toronto Rape Crisis Centre. D* states it began out of a need for a “place to resist and fight the fear of violence... and actual violence”. Take Back the Night has always promoted women bringing their issues to the street in an effort to eliminate fear and liberate women to be safe in any public or private space. D* notes that participation is roughly the same each year, varying on factors like weather and location. Numbers are around at least 500 each year.

            A* felt that Take Back the Night was indeed, a place to resist violence. “I felt really empowered to see many women feeling the same way as I feel, that women are made to feel afraid, and it’s not just me and you, it’s a whole community of women wanting to take it back”, she says.

        My Take Back the Night was about reclaiming public space that has been colonized by dominant men in our patriarchal society. I marched for how much I hate the social script of feeling unsafe as a woman walking at night. The fear that sometimes presents itself when walking alone enrages me. I feel extremely fortunate not to have a personal experience of rape or sexual violence towards me in my life. I still take the fight against it on as my own, as I have many sisters in this fight who have experienced it. D* emphasizes that violence remains at the forefront of TBTN, whether or not a woman identifies as a survivor.

            Being involved with TBTN for nearly twenty years, V*,  has monitored change in TBTN. She reflects that inclusivity in regards to issues such as disability, trans issues and women of colour are newer to the cause of TBTN, and there is still more work to be done to bring a more inclusive, anti-oppressive analysis to why women experience violence and prejudice.

Though TBTN is empowering and redeeming, sexual harassment still happens. My daily travels almost always includes going through Allan Gardens. When I first moved into the neighborhood, my Dad asked me never to walk through the park at night. My experiences haven’t been harassment-free. I am often catcalled and objectified. Thankfully, I have never been a victim of physical assault in the park. I know I can attribute much of that to using my bicycle as a tool of protection, a tool not necessary for many males to ensure safety at night.

            A* speaks of need to check behind her constantly while walking at night, that she can’t trust she’ll be okay. “There’s an ever looming fear that I am not completely safe”, she says.

I couldn’t promise my Dad I wouldn’t go through the park at night. I am adamant in reclaiming that space for women, and so I vote with my feet. I have been walking and biking through that park at night for over three years. Perhaps I am threatening my safety. But I am also renouncing a patriarchal script and fighting for personal change. TBTN makes me feel safer.

V* cites multiple reasons as to why TBTN continues to be important today. It provides room for young women to learn more about activism, it gives survivors a voice; it educates the community on issues of violence, and damn it, it’s empowering to march for something by women for women

While marching that night, I became more conscious of my position as a woman in a society steeped in patriarchy. Take Back the Night made me realize that parts of our society are so far steeped, I am often not conscious of them and accept them as normal. Being solidarity with women against violence, TBTN solidified in me a dream. A hope that a day will exist where anyone, regardless of gender or any other factor of social location, is be able to walk anywhere, at any time, safely alone. We’re still marching. As long as women still experience violence, there will be Take Back the Night.

i did a whole lot of no homework this weekend.
argh.

but what i did do, was beautiful.
friday night i went to a reclaim the streets rally with ashley. it was specific for the east end, and it was addressing& resisting the violence women experience in the downtown east end.
it was so wonderful, hearing personal narratives&stories, and then singing liberation and resistance songs together!
... we don't want violence, that is what we want, what we want, what we want...

we proceeded to march through the east end, from dundas/parliament to dundas/sherbourne... up sherbourne to gerrard, across gerrard & down george street, back to dundas. if you know toronto you know those streets are certainly deemed "sketchy". if we're gonna debunk the word "sketchy", it means there's a lot of drug activity, sex work and violence, and on george street is canada's largest men's shelter, seaton house, which basically takes up the whole street from gerrard to dundas.

i felt so empowered to walk down george street with two hundred women & some men, unafraid. i usually boast i'm not very afraid walking at night, but george street is downright terrifying.

demands scrawled on the sidewalk on the way..

protesters protesting! outside the regent park chc.

we don't want violence, that is what we want, what we want, what we want....

ashley yelling, likely "hey mister mister, get yr hands off my sister!"

ashley & i. homeless women under attack? what do we do? STAND UP, FIGHT BACK!

more street demands!