The Unemployed Philosopher Podcast

For those of you who follow Shaneisms you’ll probably recognize the name Dan Mullin and his blog The Unemployed Philosopher. He does a monthly podcast where he interviews people who incorporate their philosophical training into their various daily lives.

This month his guest is… me! We talked about social activism, a new podcast we’re collaborating on and why philosophy can (and should) be funny! Head on over and take a listen. You should enjoy listening, even if my claim of “being the first man to win the Indy 500 on foot” doesn’t quite hold up to rigorous analysis…

“We begin with equality, that’s the origin isn’t it? That’s justice.” – Abraham Lincoln, “Lincoln”

I was asked to speak about myself at a business luncheon recently. I talked about about growing up with medical issues, about being being an Aboriginal adopted into a non-Aboriginal family, and about work I’ve done with at-risk youth. There was a question and answer period after my initial talk and one of the questions asked was “how can we make Hamilton (Ontario, where I live) a better place?”

I took a few moments to try to formulate an answer and I finally said “that’s a damn good question.” I told those present, many of whom have experienced a good degree of success in their lives, that there is no easy answer. I told them that it’s not enough to simply donate money to causes or build more infrastructure or even get involved in local community events. I said that the real starting point lies in becoming and remaining open-minded to seeing the qualities in those different from us. What did I mean by “different from us”? I meant that it’s far too easy to dismiss someone based on any criteria we choose.

We can dismiss someone on gender, age, race, sexual orientation, religious background, education level, clothing choices, music preferences, really the list is endless. I’m sure we’ve all had times in our lives where someone has based our worth and what we have to offer on something that really has no bearing on our ability to help out or achieve a specific goal. That there are differences between people should go without saying. We should embrace those differences because they mean the chance to expand our outlooks and social education.

As I answered the question of “how do we make Hamilton a better place” I realized that I myself am guilty of putting people into preconceived categories. I am ashamed to admit this but I can’t deny it either. And even though I know it’s not exactly in the spirit of community building, there are times when I’m walking through the downtown core of Hamilton that I can’t help but think I’ve somehow stumbled upon the world’s largest trailer park because of how run down the core has become. Unfortunately that run down feel has attracted more than it’s share of homeless, street youth and those who’ve otherwise seemingly given up on themselves.

I use the word “seemingly” on purpose because it can be too easy to dismiss someone based on a first impression or because they don’t measure up to some arbitrary standard. It can be too easy to look down on someone because they don’t share the same goals and ambitions that you do. We have to keep in mind that the things we want, the goals we set, are based on our specific life experiences. It’s not too far-fetched to believe that if you had a different set of experiences up until now, you would currently have a different set of goals and desires.

I see this as being true from my own life. As I mentioned before, I’m an Aboriginal who’s been adopted by a non-Aboriginal family, into a culture that is not my own. I’ve come to realize that if I hadn’t been adopted, many of the things that I hold dear, such as my circle of friends, my education, the hobbies and recreations I enjoy, would be vastly different. I do realize certain things would have most likely been the same, such as my love of reading and playing sports, but the difference between who I am and who I would have been if I hadn’t been adopted lies solely in the opportunities I’ve had. I can only imagine what opportunities life would have presented me if I hadn’t been adopted but when I do theorize, I come to see that the greatest difference has come from the impact my adopted parents have had.

The difference between my birth family and my adopted family is night and day. The family values are almost completely polar opposites of each other. I follow my adopted family’s value system but that doesn’t mean I look down on my birth family. I’ve realized growing up that things in my birth family’s history such as alcohol and drug addictions and the abuses of the Residential School system have taken their toll. My birth family works from the moral and social education they received from their experiences. If I had grown up with them instead of my adopted family, I would most likely have that same social outlook.

The reason I talked about this is to show the different paths that a single person can take, given the circumstances they find themselves in. More than most, I’ve seen with stark reality the road not taken and the potential for what I could have been like. Given that difference set of circumstances, those in my life who’ve affected me the most, that I’ve loved, that I’ve been mentored and influenced by, would have been replaced with a different set of people who in turn would have influenced me along different paths and choices.

When I think about the question I was asked at that business luncheon, “how can we make Hamilton a better place”, I realize there is no easy answer because in giving a definite “this is what we must do” answer, I force everyone and their experiences to now fit a specific set of rules and guidelines, and all it will cost someone is their individuality, heritage and social education up to that point.

So where do we start from? How can we make somewhere with so much diversity better? How do you build a stronger community as a whole while respecting the individual communities found therein? I believe the only place we can start from is understanding that each community we come across has innate value, just like each person we come across as innate value. If we’re willing to put aside our differences and embrace our similarities, amazing things can happen.

But is it enough? Looking past our differences is a good start, but it requires more than that. It requires love, and love in the purest form requires self-sacrifice, a letting go of our own desires so that a greater good can occur. It can even require us to see the value in those we consider an enemy.

This is where it can get uncomfortable for a lot of people, including myself. People have an innate need for justice when something bad happens to them. We yearn for the good to be restored and the bad to be punished. Unfortunately that need for restoration can give way to a need for vengeance, regardless of the guilt or innocence of those we think are responsible.

It’s too easy to look at some wrongdoing say “Aha! That is why this happened!”, while completely disregarding the underlying circumstances and evidence. I believe part of the need to blame, especially when it comes to events involving those different from us, is so that we can say “I’m not like that”. If the person is different enough, you can justify away that you and those you associate with couldn’t and wouldn’t break whatever social and moral rules have been broken. You can continue to believe that you live in a good and just society, and that when bad things happen, it’s because those responsible are not part of your society.

But society doesn’t work that way. In places of diverse cultural heritage, like Hamilton, society ceases to be comprised of a few specific cultural heritages and becomes a melting pot of many different ways of life. Unfortunately when this happens it can be too easy to claim that we no longer live in a good and just society because our values are no longer are own because they’re now made by everyone else. It’s an attitude I’ve seen expressed in many different forms since 9/11 and with immigration issues coming to the forefront in both the United States and Canada.

Here’s the thing though: the problem isn’t that we don’t live in a good and just society. The problem is that comparatively we do live in a good and just society, which means there is no excuse for those who are most at risk to be slipping through the cracks. It is only our choice not to do something, to say “someone else will handle it”, that allows injustices to continue.

Nelson Mandela once said “A nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens, but its lowest ones”. For those who are most at risk in our communities, whether they are the poor who’ve become the victim of economic forces beyond their control, or minorities who’ve been born here into less than the North American ideal, or immigrants from around the world who’ve come here believing they can find the freedom they can’t find at home, we need to keep in mind that they still have something to contribute, if only given the chance.

Looking at the choices my adopted parents made towards me, to choose to take into their lives a child that they didn’t have to, makes a profound statement to me. That statement is that each of us has the power to completely change the lives of others for the better if we so choose. My adopted parents could have said “someone else will take care of him”, and they wouldn’t have been wrong. Someone else would have come along, whether they be new foster parents or a provincially appointed social worker. But because they made the choice to take on the financial and, more importantly, the moral responsibility of taking me into their home and treating me as an equal, my life was set on a completely new path. To paraphrase Robert Frost, they took the path less traveled by and that has made all the difference.

So here’s the question I leave with you: how can you make where you are a better place? How can you make life better for those around you? It doesn’t have to be something huge and world-changing. It doesn’t have to be planned out. Maybe all that’s needed is simply stepping outside of a comfort zone and making a stranger feel welcome. Rarely do we change someone’s life because we’ve planned to.

Perhaps the best way I can sum every thought I have tried to present here is a quote by philosopher Albert Camus:

“Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

“And you become a monster so the monster will not break you” – U2 “Peace On Earth”

When I look at my forearms I see a lot of burn marks and scars, reminders of past experiences that have quite literally left their mark. While some of those marks are from me being my usual “logic and safety have taken a holiday” self, a fair number of those marks are from my time working with street youth. And where I live, in Hamilton, Ontario, there are a lot of them. If you take a walk through the city core, you’ll see groups of street kids fairly frequently. One of the harsh realities of Hamilton is that it has a higher rate of poverty, higher rates of youth drug and alcohol abuse and lower rate of school attendance than many other cities in Ontario.

This sets the stage for where so many of the youth I’ve worked from have had their beginnings but there are two other big factors in why there are so many street youth in Hamilton.

The first is that Hamilton has a very high immigrant population. This isn’t to say that immigrants are purposely creating a problem but rather that immigrants tend to have lower incomes and fewer opportunities due to being new the area. This creates the conditions for at-risk youth to emerge from.

The second factor is that Hamilton is what I call a “triangle city”, in that because of it’s geographical location, it tends to get youth from three directions: those from the southwestern, mostly rural area out towards London, those from the Niagara region directly south of here, and finally those who want to make it in Toronto to the east of here but ultimately can’t. In some ways it’s almost a perfect storm for creating a toxic environment for at-risk youth: a place with a high poverty rate, low incomes and a centralized location.

When I think back to many of the kids I’ve worked with, a very similar set of traits emerges: these kids are usually from low-income families, are often from broken homes, and have been exposed to alcohol and drug addiction as well as different forms of abuse. Their behavior is often very similar: a strong mistrust of any form of authority, such as the police or social work agencies, frequent use of recreational drugs and alcohol as ways of coping, and aggressive behavior when they feel threatened or disrespected in even a minor way.

One of the more unfortunate side effects of Hamilton’s economic and social structure is the prevalence of gangs in the city, particularly the downtown core and east end. There’s a misconception that gangs are always territorial, that it’s about “turf”. In my experience the gangs have been much more fluid, often operating in diverse parts of the city. I’ve heard of gang members going to entry points such as a border crossings and airports to pick up drugs and weapons smuggled into the country, then running those weapons and drugs to various points around the Hamilton area. Do I want to know if it’s true? Well, I’d prefer to think in this case that ignorance really is bliss.

It’s easy to turn a blind eye to what these kids go through, to say “their circumstances are of their own making”, and while that is partially true, many of the kids I’ve worked with are where they are because of socio-economic forces far beyond their control. I’ve often found the kids were much more intelligent than you might expect. What surprised me also is when I’d tell them this I’d often get the same reply: “No one’s ever said that to me before”. It would seem, unfortunately, that intelligence has been seen as a commodity on the streets, just like anything else.

I was inspired to write about Hamilton’s at-risk youth because of two occurrences recently. Within a couple hours of each other I had two friends ask if I would come in and speak to them about at-risk youth and street gangs. I agreed to both but was surprised because I haven’t worked one-on-one with the kids in a few years. I spent time looking into the facts and figures about Hamilton and street youth, gang culture and was saddened to discover that despite the passage of time, nothing much has changed.

Was I really expecting there to be any big changes? Well, no, not really. I know that sounds pessimistic and even cynical, but I have my reasons. For all the different circumstances, backgrounds and personal differences there were, two symbiotic beliefs made themselves known time and time again. The first belief is a positive one: “there is a better world out there than what I currently know and am living in”. It’s the secondary belief, however, that makes all the difference: “For whatever reason, be it social standing, past choices, lack of education, criminal convictions, I don’t deserve and can never achieve that world”.

The kids echo thoughts expressed by Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen, who wrote in Development as Freedom that the lack of freedom to make meaningful choices, to be able to change one’s situation, is the distinguishing feature of poverty. The kids don’t believe they can change their life, and in that choice have unfortunately made what will most likely become a self-fulling prophecy.

One of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with is seeing kids being given everything they need to rise above the despair, such as a safe place to live, a stable source of money, and education or work opportunities, and then seeing them choosing to throw it away. Why would someone do that? It can be that being in a new, safe environment is too overwhelming because you’re always expecting something to go wrong, that there has to be some catch to the opportunity. Another reason for throwing it away is the fear of losing those you’re close to, that you won’t fit in anymore if you start getting your life on track. There is also a fear many of us know: the fear of the unknown. One way of phrasing this is “I’ll take the pain I know over the pain I don’t”, even if that unfamiliar situation will ease after some time to adjust is taken.

The reason I found that was most common among girls was a guy would come along, say all the right words, and then the guy became their whole world. Too often I heard guys saying to these girls “I love you”. I’ll leave it to your imagination as to what “I love you” really turned out to mean.

Another problem I encountered with trying to help kids rise above was that often a family member, usually a parent, would do whatever they could to get their hands on any social assistance the youth might be receiving such as an allowance from the Children’s Aid Society or welfare or disability payments or a work program. Whether it was disguised as “you should pay your fair share around here” or “think of all the things I’ve sacrificed for you” or a similar guilt trip, too many times the money meant for helping an at-risk youth find stability went to feed the family member’s need for drugs, alcohol and other vices. Why did the kids usually willingly allow their money to be taken? Simple: who, ultimately, doesn’t want to feel their parents love them and need them?

This misuse of money often had a heart-breaking consequence for the youth in question. I’ve known youth to start prostituting themselves out to get some money for food and clothing. I’ve more than once turned a blind eye to kids dealing drugs, knowing it wasn’t about becoming a big time dealer but simply about getting enough money to get something to eat and somewhere warm to stay.

Unfortunately for the kids, having a family member steal their money was actually a desirable occurrence compared to some of the situations I’ve seen. In trying to help the kids find a better life, I’ve had to deal with parents who were drunk, regardless of what time of day it is, weapons pointed at me as soon as I entered the door, threats and ethnic slurs yelled at me and cigarettes put out my skin as form of intimidation. I knew of one youth who had a roommate who would chain and padlock the fridge so no one else could get any food. My wife and I would occasionally buy extra food when we’d go grocery shopping so that he’d have something substantial to eat.

With the odds seemingly stacked against them, several of the kids I knew turned to gangs as a way to survive on the streets. The idea of joining a gang was glamorous. It was the promise that if you join up, you’ll be respected, if not feared, and that whatever you want, whether it’s money, cars, clothes, jewelry, or sex would be yours for the taking. Unfortunately too many of the kids who turned to gangs found out too late that this promise was a false one. To give you an idea of gang life, initiation would often consist of you fighting three gang members simultaneously for as long as you could. If you held out long enough you were admitted in.

Joining a gang, where working with street kids is concerned, often had consequences the youths never intended. More than once I knew of kids who were beaten up for being mistaken as opposing gang members simply for being in the wrong area at the wrong time, or dressing the wrong way. Another consequence is that youth shelters and programs were considered off limits. The thought among gangs was “why would you go to them when we give you everything you need”. I can recall more than once very scary incidents were members of different gangs did show up at the same youth-oriented program. Luckily none of those times ever escalated beyond posturing and trash talk but the possibility of real violence, with innocent kids caught in the middle, was very real.

I know the picture I’m painting is bleak, but I want you to fully understand how real and dangerous things can be for youth. I want you to truly grasp the unfortunate nature of poverty when it comes to youth. There are upsides though. For example, there were (and still are) many people in the downtown core who devoted their lives to trying to make Hamilton a better place and providing opportunities for those most vulnerable to poverty’s destructive consequences. From social workers to police officers to even some shop owners, I met many people who believed in the potential of the street kids they saw every day.

One question I often get asked is “how do we solve this problem? What solution is there to helping Hamilton’s street youth?” and I always find myself answering “honestly, I don’t know”. I do know that there isn’t some magic cure-all, some silver bullet that will end poverty and it’s affects on youths once and for all. The sad fact is that despite being in two of the wealthiest nations on earth, child poverty is a very real fact across Canada and the United States.

I’ve often been told “well, if we build more infrastructure” or “if we set up more programs” or “if we just got more funding”… and while those things sound good, I know in my heart that those good intentions won’t make a great difference simply because what good are programs and funding and infrastructure when those you’re trying to help have a strong mistrust of anything to do with “the system”.

I’ve known teen moms to skip child custody hearings simply because they don’t trust the legal justice system. I’ve known youths to skip probation hearings because they believe the cops will plant evidence on them. In both situations the same thing happens: the case is decided against them and the court decision they wanted to avoid happens anyway, reinforcing the youth’s belief there is no justice or fairness and making them even more bitter against those who could offer them a chance at a better life.

When I started this article, I said “When I look at my forearms I see a lot of burn marks and scars, reminders of past experiences that have quite literally left their mark”. “Reminders of past experiences”. Past tense. Some of you might be asking why I don’t work with street kids still. Well, a big part of it is I was getting burned out. As time went on, I found myself exhausted physically, emotionally and even spiritually. I did get injured working with street kids, especially when dealing with those involved in gangs and dealing drugs because they were often the most aggressive and the most likely to carry weapons.

That kind of environment wears on you. It’s telling that two professions with very high rates of burn out are policing and social work. And it doesn’t just wear you down, it can wear down those you love. I had a long relationship end because my girlfriend was tired of the stress of worrying about how things would go with the youth. “What if a fight breaks out”, “what if one of them is armed”, “is that neighborhood really somewhere that’s worth going, even if it’s to help someone out”. I completely get where she was coming from.

Working with street youth is honestly something I don’t always miss. It’s surreal to walk into an apartment complex and immediately hear people yelling out their windows at me “are you a cop? Because if you are, you need to leave or else”. That has happened to me on more than one occasion. It’s tough to want to keep trying when all too often all the hard work, time and effort you put into helping someone is just tossed aside when it’s time for the youth to do their part.

All that said, I still advocate whenever I can for the places the street youth frequent, such as The Living Rock. Sometimes the best way to help someone is to shed light on their struggles. The more people that know about a situation, the more likely someone will take action to find a solution. right?

My heart goes out to the kids I’ve worked with because many times they’re in the situation they’re in because of circumstances far beyond their control. I try to remind myself of that when I find I’m frustrated and losing my patience with them. Even when I look at the scars they’ve inflicted on my body from physical attacks they’ve done, I have to keep reminding myself that they’re acting out of the social education they’ve received and that, almost always, it’s nothing personal towards me. I can’t be angry when I know they’re acting out of a deep hurt and mistrust.

I remind myself that they’ve gone into bad situations and gangs for the hope of finding a way to shield themselves from the pain and fear that so often dominates their lives. I remind myself that when you strip everything away, all the bravado and swagger, all the gang colors, euphemisms and weaponry, you’re left with kids who ultimately want to know they matter, that they have worth and that they can be loved for who they are. Too often I’ve found it to be that the kid has put up this tough exterior because they don’t want to break.

Isn’t that ultimately why we do so many things we know deep down will hurt us… because we’re scared of breaking?

*Author’s note: if you’re interested in further reading, please check out these two links:

Amartya Sen’s summation of the problem of poverty and crime

The John Howard Society of Hamilton’s gang prevention guide

“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.” – Mark Twain

For the followers of Shaneisms (all two of you), you’ll have heard me mention Dan Mullin, he of The Unemployed Philosopher fame. Not only are we best friends, but we were college roommates and, during most of our time, our university’s sole philosophy majors. We both took a certain pride in that fact, making sure that we were faithfully representing the grand tradition of Philosophy, even if Dan was more in the tradition of Kant and Hume and I more in line with Jonathan Swift.

Recently Dan has been writing about leaving the academic world and becoming a post-academic. From the talks we’ve had, it’s been a decision that weight heavily on him, one that took many long nights of contemplation to reach. We’ve had long talks about “what now?” and what the future holds for someone who, for many of the years I’ve known him, has looked at the academic world as somewhere he was was supposed to be.

For all the similarities we have, a big difference is that I’ve never seen the academic world as somewhere I’d end up. This isn’t to say I don’t value education and don’t love learning about everything I can. The constant, seemingly never-ending pile of books cluttering up my desk says otherwise, but as I’ve read Dan’s posts as he reflects on his academic journey, I can’t help but reflect on my own.

While Dan has gone on to get his doctorate in Philosophy, I never finished my undergrad degree. While I had my reasons, my own decision to leave was based on something different from the reasons why many people leave university.

I have always had a very hard time in an organized school setting, from grade school to university. Technically, I have two learning disabilities, even if for all practical reasons they’ve never interfered with my actual learning process. Case in point, I taught myself to read at three years old with minimal help. When I say “taught myself to read”, I mean I could read at a high school level by Grade 3. More than once I was given the opportunity to skip a grade in grade school. In her wisdom my mom didn’t take those offers, and I thank her for that. My learning disabilities would have manifested that much worse if she had agreed to skip me ahead.

The first problem I have to contend with is dyslexia. For me, it exists mostly in transposing letters in words or words in sentences. Public speaking has helped me immensely with the verbal part of it but if I’m tired I have a harder time controlling it. While dyslexia hasn’t affected my grades for the most part, higher math, such as algebra, is an issue for me. In university a friend in the math program discovered I could solve complex algebra equations just by looking at them, but when I tried to actually show the steps in solving it, I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. In high school, I lost marks in math classes because of this, since the marks were assigned for showing the work more than getting the correct answer.

The second learning disorder is far more problematic. I have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), which makes sitting still for a prolonged period very arduous for me. While I can absorb and memorize large amounts of information in a very short time, I’ve always found structured class settings very difficult. The best way I can phrase it is that the class was far too slow for me. I can remember many times in university, the professor would start a lecture and within a few minutes I’d figure where he was going with it, and I would zone out and let my mind go on tangents. However, this left me lost if the professor would suddenly ask a class question.

With ADHD, when I get bored, I get restless and fidgety. When I get fidgety, bad things happen. In grade school I’d get up out of my seat and wander around, start rummaging through my backpack or a textbook, regardless of what was going on in class. This led to my mom homeschooling me for my high school years. Grade wise there was a meteoric improvement, from low 70’s in a normal classroom setting to mid to high 90’s homeschooling. Without the structure of class holding me back I could do an entire day of schooling before noon. When I went to university, the problems I had with being in a classroom setting crept up again.

In one of his posts, Dan quoted The Dark Knight Rises, writing “As James Gordon tells John Blake, structures can become shackles”. This is the best way I can describe what sitting in a classroom setting was like for me. The structure became a shackle. I’ve never been on medication such as Ritalin, so I’ve had to find other ways of coping with ADHD. One way I’d try to compensate for it in class was having a snack such as chips or peanut M&M’s on me to munch on whenever I’d start to feel myself losing focus.

If you’re wondering what this has to do with my view towards the academic world, those two learning disabilities made the academic world a place where I felt I never fit in. While in terms of brainpower I have no problem keeping up with high academic scholarship, I find it too dry, too focused on what I feel are small details such as footnotes. The resolute focus on form is something I have a very hard time doing. It’s telling that I wrote my philosophy papers in a way that almost never used footnotes.

I realize that I lucked out in terms of the professors I studied under. My philosophy professor, the late Theodore Plantinga, gave me a lot of leeway in my papers and class behavior. He knew I had a strong handle on the material and he recognized the challenges I faced in dealing with dyslexia and ADHD. A good example of this understanding is that when we had to write papers for him, we had to hand in an outline so he could tell if we were on the right track or not. Half the time I’d hand in a one or two sentence outline, as opposed to the more detailed outline we were required to do. Once I handed in an outline in the form of a beatnik poem, complete with spaces for finger snaps. When he handed it back to me, his only comment was “Groovy, man!”. He showed me similar leeway in my paper construction. While we were supposed to use proper APA format I usually ignored that and wrote in a style he referred to as “like reading a History Channel show transcript”.

I minored in Theatre and English, and here as well I had understanding professors. The English professor would often let me hand in my own original fiction in place of reviewing a play. The Theatre professor let me hand in film projects instead of theatre ones as he wanted to nurture what he saw as a gift for filmmaking. Even in these less structured classes my learning disabilities caused some issues. I’d often forget to read an assigned story or poem for various English classes, often reading them in the few minutes between the time I sat down for class and the time class started.

Theatre assignments would occasionally be forgotten as well. A good example here is we had to recite a poem in front of the class, done in the style of a dramatic reading. The professor pulled names out of a hat to decide who went first. Guess who got called first. While the other students were armed and ready with passages from Shakespeare, Keats and Wordsworth, I had completely forgotten about the assignment. I stood up, and recited the first thing that came to mind. Unfortunately that ended up being the Dukes of Hazzard theme song. My fellow students looked horrified as I went on but the professor was laughing hysterically. If you’re wondering about the grade… I got an perfect mark, with the professor commenting “Easily the strangest, most unexpected and most entertaining presentation of the class”.

As much fun as I had in my classes, by my third and fourth year I felt more and more that the hallowed halls of academia weren’t for me. And, despite knowing I could mentally could do the requirements of a post-grad program, I knew I didn’t have the discipline, or rather, I knew I couldn’t reign myself in to what I knew would be a much more structured environment than what university was. I never finished my undergrad program because by the middle of my fourth year I felt I had gotten what I had come for: the education, the knowledge, the opening of my mind to new horizons.

Am I saying drop out of university? By no means. I have nieces and nephews taking their first steps into the world of university and I’ve always encouraged them to get the education they need and stick it out, no matter how boring they might think university can be. Hypocritical? Probably.

I do remind them that while school has never been my strong point, I’m always reading whatever I can get my hands on. While structured academics isn’t for me, it doesn’t mean I ever plan to stop learning. I applaud those, like Dan, who can push themselves through the rigors of the academic world because I know I would go insane within a few weeks and probably go to the university library and start rearranging all the books just out of spite.

Would I ever go back to the academic world and finish up my degree? Probably not. At this point I find keeping myself reading on diverse topics is what works best for me and how I learn. I’m quite content with knowing that the only degree I’d ever get would be an honorary one. If that happens, cool. If not, no worries.

I wish Dan all the best as he charts his new course after having left the world of academia. Oh, and if you’re wondering what he thinks of the strange situation of having a doctorate in Philosophy while his best friend is a university drop out… he gets a certain perverse glee out of it.

I think the German philosophers had a word for that: Schadenfreude. I can’t be sure though… I’m not an Academic.

The Heart Of A Teacher

My close friend Amanda Scarlett has been teaching in the remote town of Fort Albany, Ontario for the past two years. Frequent readers of Shaneisms might recognize her from my piece on Idle No More from a couple months back.

She’s started her own blog, The Heart Of A Teacher, which is a candid look at her experience teaching and working through the ever increasingly complex teacher’s system here in Ontario. I thoroughly encourage you to check out her blog at The Heart Of A Teacher!

“Just because you’re unemployed, it doesn’t mean that you’re out of work” – Dr. Daniel Mullin

I was watching an episode of The Simpsons recently where Homer ends up becoming chief of police after Chief Wiggum is forced from office following a public scandal. During the episode Homer says “You know, I’ve had a lot of jobs… boxer, mascot, astronaut, imitation Krusty, baby-proofer, trucker, hippie, plow driver, food critic, conceptual artist, grease salesman, carny, mayor, grifter, bodyguard for the mayor, country western manager, garbage commissioner, mountain climber, farmer, inventor, Smithers, Poochie, celebrity assistant, power plant worker, fortune cookie writer, beer baron, Kwik-E-Mart clerk, homophobe and missionary. But protecting Springfield, that gives me the best feeling of all”.

It made me think of the employment struggles that so many of people I know are currently going through, myself included. While I know that there are many factors in the employment troubles I and my friends have been experiencing, I can’t help but wish that life was like The Simpsons, where random, unlikely, and often bizarre circumstances culminate in the procurement of an exciting career opportunity.

But, alas, I don’t live in a strange, fictional cartoon world, despite what some of my friends might say. The world I inhabit is one of sharp economic downturn, financial uncertainty and wage cuts in the face of a rising cost of living.

My best friend Dan, he of “The Unemployed Philosopher” fame, recently successfully defended his doctoral thesis. Unfortunately even with his new found title of Doctor of Philosophy, he still finds himself as an unemployed philosopher. He and I have talked many times about our struggles to find stable, long-lasting employment. Please notice that I left “meaningful” out of that phrase. It often feels now that wanting it to be stable, long-lasting and meaningful is wanting too much.

Amongst my friends I’ve noticed a trend. Many are either taking whatever they can or they’re going back to school in the hopes it will give them more options. It’s disconcerting the number of friends I have who, despite being armed with university degrees, have ended up working in fast food places. I can’t shake this feeling that it wasn’t their intent to spend several years and tens of thousands of dollars so that they can say “would you like fries with that”.

There are many factors working against those who are job seeking. The most obvious is the downturn the economy has taken. Companies are trying to find a balance between minimizing costs, maximizing profits and still putting out a solid product. Another factor is people are working longer and delaying retirement more than ever. Whether it’s the feeling of being able to keep up the job demands at an older age or the desire to make more money in order to stave off retirement financial issues, people are staying in the workforce longer, meaning less vacant positions in the workforce.

In North America, more and more jobs are outsourced because the cost of labor is cheaper overseas. With the rise of the internet and instant communication from all corners of the globe, it’s no longer necessary for you to be where your job is. All one has to do is take a look at the rise of teleconferencing to see the truth of this. Teleconferencing has advanced to the point where even doctoral visitation and diagnosis can be done remotely.

At this point I want to talk about the role education plays in the job hunt. Education is important, but it also needs saying that not all degrees are created equal. An example that comes to mind is the story of someone I know who flunked out of one college’s early childhood education program with marks in the low 30’s and went on to an ECE program at another college and graduated with marks in the high 90’s. So why the sudden huge improvement? It all came down to the course requirements. The college the student flunked out of had requirements that demanded much more of the student in comparison to the second program they entered. When a mutual friend who was in the ECE program at the first college heard the requirements of the second college’s ECE program, their reaction was “Why am I working so hard at my program when I could switch colleges, do a minimum of work and still end up with the same degree?”

My friend raises a good point: why work so hard when you’ll end up with the same degree as someone who’s doing next to nothing by comparison? It’s true that different universities and colleges hold different weight in terms of how they’re viewed by employers. And it should be that way. A degree in business from Harvard should carry more weight than one from a local community college because Harvard has better resources and higher expectations of their students.

But this raises a secondary problem with education: let’s say you have two students in the same program at the same school. The first student is getting high marks on all course requirements and exams and pushing themselves to excel in everything they do. The second student is barely passing their courses and exams and doing the bare minimum required to graduate. Eventually both do graduate and start applying for jobs and positions in their field. The problem that arises now is that, on paper at least, both are graduates of the same program and would essentially be equal in the eyes of prospective employers.

Are they equal in what they can bring to the workplace? No. Not even remotely. But that doesn’t matter because until they get called in for an interview, they are on equal footing by having the same degree. Other resume factors, such as prior work experience, internships, and volunteering could work in favor of one applicant over the other, but it still depends on what the prospective employer is looking for on the resume.

There is often no distinction made between qualifications on a resume and what a person is actually capable of. It might sound like I’m talking about the problem of being considered under-qualified but I’m not. While one’s qualifications is an important consideration in filling a vacancy, I’ve found being considered overqualified to be just as much of an issue. The idea of being rejected because of being “overqualified” doesn’t make any sense to me but I’ve experienced it and I’ve heard many friends talk about being rejected for the same reason.

Logically, being “overqualified” should be a good thing. It implies that less training is needed, the learning curve and adjustment period will be shorter, productivity will be higher and less supervision is needed, resulting in more office efficiency. However, in my experience, it seems to also mean you have higher wage expectations, the desire for more benefits and vacation time and general attitude of entitlement. The irony is that I, and most of my friends who’ve been told “you’re overqualified”, don’t have those entitlement issues. We just want to work. After all, some income is better than no income.

Sometimes it feels like the employers have a specific, idealized candidate in their mind, and will just wait it out, knowing that the odds are in their favor for finding that person because of how specialized education has become.

There is an argument to be made that with the ever-increasing course specialization available in colleges and universities, we’re hitting a point where we’re becoming too specialized. This is something Dan has been facing in trying to find employment in the academic field. Between more professors opting to put off retirement and the ever increasing number of graduates with Masters and Doctoral degrees, the number of applicants is far outpacing the number of open positions. For Dan, this is forcing his hand in that he’s been investigating alternate routes of employment that while still involving his Philosophy degree, don’t involve teaching.

I’ve been doing similar things that, while involving my skills as a filmmaker and my knowledge of media creation, doesn’t necessarily involve filmmaking itself. And while trying to find a steady paycheck through media endeavors, I’ve found myself taking on work as a renovator and carpenter in an effort to try to make ends meet. Is there anything wrong with renovation and carpentry? No. I grew up doing it but I still find myself wanting to do something that engages the more creative and academic parts of my brain.

My wife, Michelle, is facing a different obstacle as she looks for work. She’s working on completing a degree in Art Therapy after graduating with a dual degree in Art History and Psychology. The obstacle she faces now is that art therapy is a relatively new field, which is translating into there not being a lot of positions open for her as an art therapist. Her plan is to eventually open up a private practice, but for now she faces uncertainty and I face the prospect of many more meals consisting of eating Spaghetti-O’s because that’s all our budget can afford, with bills and school fees always jumping for every dollar we have.

I know that in time the job hunt frustrations I, and so many people that I know have, will get better. The economy will eventually correct itself, as it always does given enough time, and things will turn around. Dan will eventually find his niche in the realm of philosophy and ethics, and Michelle will eventually find her niche in art therapy. They’re both too smart not to.

As for me? Well, I’m betting I’m just off-kilter enough to find my niche. I’d prefer if it has to do with filmmaking or writing or media in general, but maybe I’m being too picky. Perhaps my destiny does lie in asking if you’d like fries with that. I can handle that, can’t I?

Aww, who am I kidding? I’d go crazy as a fry jockey. Give it a month and I’d probably attack someone with the fry chipper. I guess this means I’ll have to keep looking and holding out hope I’m someone’s perfect job candidate.

Oh, that episode of The Simpsons I mentioned at the beginning? It ends with Homer deciding being police chief is too dangerous and saying he’s going to give his badge to the first person he sees. That person ends up being Chief Wiggum, who takes the badge and says “That’s funny because this is how I got this job the first time”.

Hmm… living in a cartoon world gets more appealing every day…

An Open Letter to the Aboriginal Youth of Canada

As I write this, Aboriginals are making their strength known in Canada as never before. The Idle No More movement has dominated headlines for six weeks now and it shows no signs of letting up. I have tried to figure out what will happen next for us as First Nations people as we fight a bill that will have profound effects on our ways of life for years to come. That’s why I’m writing this letter to all of you, because right now over half of the Aboriginal population of Canada is under 25.

Like you, I am Aboriginal. I am an Ojibway from the Wabaseemoong Independent Nations. Unlike many of you I didn’t grow up on a reserve. I know that many of you who have grown up on reserves have done in so complete poverty. I know that in many of those cases the poverty has been because of forces far beyond your control, the seeds of which were planted 150 years ago.

It saddens me when I hear the stories of addiction and suicide that run rampant on reserves. The world that’s been created for us, both as Aboriginals and Canadians, is unacceptable. We deserve a better world to be born into. Aboriginal children deserve, like all children do, a chance to explore, to learn, to grow and to find love and happiness.

The world we will find ourselves in over the next few years is an uncertain one at best. Our rights, heritage and even our very identity as Aboriginals are at risk. We need to show trust and patience with the generations who’ve come before us, as we all try to chart the best course through these murky times and find the best future for all of us, not just as Aboriginals but as Canadians.

You might ask us why we are fighting so hard right now for our rights and freedoms. The answer, ultimately, is simple: you, the Aboriginal youth of Canada.

It will be the Aboriginal youth of Canada who ultimately receive both the blessings and pays the price for the actions taking place now. It will be up to us, a generation which mostly has never known the abuse of the residential school system, to lead our people past the physical, emotional and spiritual scars inflicted on us there. It will be up to us to figure out how to leave that pain in the past, and most importantly, how to forgive those who inflicted those grievous wounds on us.

I know we have it in ourselves to find that strength to forge a brighter future. I know that given the chance we can rise above the cycles of addictions and abuse that have enslaved us for so long. I’ve seen the potential in Aboriginal youth, and what that potential can do when given a proper chance to grow and face the world on its own terms. I can only imagine the bright future that awaits the Aboriginal peoples of Canada if the Aboriginal youth of Canada are given the fair chance we deserve.

I also know that we can’t do it alone, and we shouldn’t have to. I ask that all of you forgive the older Aboriginal generations for where they have failed you in the past. If they have discouraged you in your dreams it’s because they’ve lost the ability to believe in their own. If they’ve told you that making something of yourselves is an unachievable goal, it’s because the weight of their past has left them unable to see beyond their pain. We are a proud people and that can be both our greatest strength and our greatest fault.

There will always be those who will mock you and try to tear you down simply because you’re Aboriginal. I know this because I’ve been through it myself. But it’s up to you to either accept those words or reject them, remembering that blind hatred is something best left alone. It’s not easy to walk away from hate but we must be strong and rise above all the anger because to give into it only leads to destruction.

The future, our future, is only limited by how hard we’re willing to work and the risks we’re willing to take. I won’t promise you that things will always work out and that people won’t fail you. I won’t promise you that you’ll win every battle or that the victory you seek won’t take everything you have in the process. I won’t promise you the right thing will always be obvious or easy. But I will promise you that there is something greater out there for Aboriginals, and now is the time to come together and work towards it.

We have all the potential in the world to do great and amazing things. The first step is to get an education so that we can unlock our potential and help each other find talents and abilities we might have never known we had. Each of us has a purpose and it’s up to each of you find out what it is.

 The second step is to always remember the special heritage we hold inside ourselves. While the changes that are coming for Aboriginals are uncertain and the end results of our coming together as never before are unknown, know that the key to our future, as both Aboriginals and as Canadians, rests in the choices we make as it becomes our turn to lead.

I look forward to that day.

Apegish wii-zhawenimik Manidoo (I hope you are blessed by the Creator)

Shane Pennells

Convalescence

Dear Readers

I hope to have some new posts up soon. I have been battling the vicious flu that has hit Canada and the US so hard. Armed with medication, tissues and some soup, I am finally winning this war that has consumed the past 10 days.

A shout out and a big “thank you!” goes to Dan over at The Unemployed Philosopher for taking the time to proofread my upcoming articles as I’ve slowly succumb to the wrath of the Booger Man.

Stay tuned!

Shane Pennells

“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” – Alice Walker

There is a growing movement in Canadian Aboriginal circles called Idle No More. Its mission statement is to call “on all people to join in a revolution which honors and fulfills Indigenous sovereignty which protects the land and water. Colonization continues through attacks to Indigenous rights and damage to the land and water. We must repair these violations, live the spirit and intent of the treaty relationship, work towards justice in action, and protect Mother Earth”.

The driving force behind Idle No More is opposition to a piece of legislation before Canada’s Parliament, an omnibus bill with everything from changes to Senatorial pensions to the construction of a new bridge between Windsor and Detroit. The two sections causing the issues in Aboriginal circles are changes to the Indian Act and further changes to the Environmental Assessment Act.

Changes to the Indian Act include changing the rules about what kind of meetings are required to lease or grant interest in designated lands, as well as giving the Aboriginal Affairs minister the authority to call a band meeting or referendum for the purpose of considering the absolute surrender of the band’s territory to the federal government.

The Environmental Assessment Act changes include making major pipeline and inter-provincial power line projects exempt from requirements that they prove they wouldn’t damage or destroy navigable waterways in Canada. A list of lakes and rivers was attached to this section of the bill and anything mentioned on it is no longer under federal protection.

The effects the omnibus bill can have are potentially devastating to Aboriginal land claims. The changes to the Indian Act make it far easier for the Federal government to make expropriation claims on Aboriginal lands. Expropriation might be better known as “eminent domain”, meaning authorities have the right to buy private property for public use as long as there is fair compensation. This by itself isn’t detrimental to Aboriginal land claims, but there are other factors which make the timing of this legislation very suspect. We’ll get to those in a moment. The Environmental Assessment Act changes have taken protection off many Aboriginal-controlled lakes and rivers, making them open for development and resource harvesting. Again, it’s not the changes themselves that are the problem, but discussing what has come before the omnibus bill will make things clearer.

Let’s turn back the clock a bit:

On June 11, 2008, Prime Minister Stephen Harper stood in the House of Commons and gave a solemn apology for Residential Schools, where thousands of Aboriginal children were taken from their parents and subjected to mistreatment, including physical and sexual abuse. This apology was seen as a strong step towards reconciliation for Aboriginal peoples across Canada and a government with which they have for decades viewed with mistrust.

On October 28, 2011, the Aboriginal community of Atiwapiskat declared a state of emergency for the third time in three years, resulting from multiple issues including housing, utilities, inadequate water and sanitation systems. The media attention the story quickly gathered brought the poverty of many Aboriginal communities to the screens of millions. The Harper government’s response was seen as slow, inadequate and willfully ignorant of the facts of the situation. Many Aboriginals I talked to saw this as a turning point in fighting the sense of increasing marginalization of Aboriginal communities.

On January 24, 2012, Harper met with Assembly of First Nations Chief Shawn Atleo and while calling for an overhaul and updating of the Indian Act, promised that “Our government has no grand scheme to repeal or unilaterally rewrite the Indian Act”.

On June 4, 2012, Bill C-428, the Indian Act Amendment and Replacement Act, was introduced by Saskatchewan Conservative MP Rob Clarke. The bill had mixed reactions in the Aboriginal communities. While the bill called for greater authority for Aboriginal chiefs and councils and less authority for the Native Affairs minister and federal government, it was also seen as a step against Prime Minister Harper’s promise to not repeal or unilaterally rewrite the Indian Act. The bill passed its first reading on December 5, 2012, by a vote of 156-129, with Prime Minister Harper voting in favor of it.

This brings us back to the omnibus bill that set Idle No More in motion. The bill, also known as Bill C-45, was passed on December 5 as well, by a vote of 156-128, again with Prime Minister Harper voting in favor of it.

So now what? From the joy of reconciliation to anger over changes in the Indian Act, it’s been a turbulent few years for Canadian Aboriginals. The timing of the bills, and their affect on Aboriginals is suspect because of the Harper government’s push to build a new oil pipeline, one that would most likely have run through Aboriginal land. The changes in how expropriation claims are made, to me, feels like the government is gearing up to start making claims on Aboriginal lands that run along the proposed pipeline routes by simply saying “the government has need of this land”. The taking away of protection status on some 16,000 lakes and rivers, again to me, seems like a move to make expropriation claims that much easier. What bothers me most is the giving the Aboriginal Affairs minister the authority to call a band meeting for the purpose of considering the absolute surrender of the band’s territory to the federal government. This feels to me like nothing more than a end-game solution for getting land that has politically valuable purpose.

The use of the omnibus bill, in which literally hundreds of amendments to law are pushed together, seems like a tactic designed simply to make it impossible to adequately argue against the proposed amendments in the House of Commons. With so many things pushed together, it becomes overwhelming to try to fully anticipate all intended affects of each section of the bill. The irony in this is that when Stephen Harper was first elected to Parliament, he was an outspoken critic of omnibus bill usage by the Liberal government, calling it an injustice to democracy.

I have no desire to turn this into an anti-Harper tirade. That’s not going to help anyone, especially in a situation as politically fragile as what we find ourselves in now. What I will say is this: when I see ads on TV promoting the proposed pipeline I smirk to myself because I can only imagine the amount of money and political wrangling behind that advertisement. Let me put it this way: if the pipeline was not such a political minefield, you wouldn’t need commercials to sway interest because there would be little opposition to it to begin with.

As for Idle No More, here’s my take on it: I myself am an Aboriginal of Ojibway descent and part of the Wabaseemoong Independent Nations. I was not raised in an Aboriginal home but was adopted by a Caucasian family. In this way I am, in many ways, an outsider looking in at my own culture. At the risk of opening up a firestorm, I am glad that I was adopted because it has given me opportunities that wouldn’t have been there if I had been raised by my birth family. Unfortunately my birth family falls in the category so many other Aboriginals have found themselves in, one where the cycle of addiction and brokenness only repeats itself with each passing generation.

A friend of mine teaches in a school in Fort Albany, Ontario, on James Bay. It is a mostly Aboriginal community and the stories of broken families she’s relayed to me are heartbreaking. Many of her students often miss class because they have to take care of their parents, who often spend their days and nights getting drunk. A number of those parents went to residential schools, and the abuse they suffered there has left them hardened and bitter towards any non-Aboriginal person. My friend, who is Caucasian, has said to me several times that “if you’re not Aboriginal, the chances of you being accepted in the community drop greatly”.

I say all this because I want to try to convey to you what’s at risk for the Aboriginal community. This isn’t just about land claims or bitterness over past treatment. There is a very real sense among Aboriginals that this a move to slowly do away with Aboriginals as a distinct society within Canada. If you slowly take away land claims, legally and politically assigned rights and privileges, eventually there will no distinction between Aboriginals and any other Canadian citizen. Perhaps the best way I can phrase this is that it’s “assimilation via the installment plan”.

I spoke at an Idle No More gathering and said that the time has come for Aboriginals to stop letting ourselves be marginalized and that it’s time to break free from that cycle of brokenness that has affected so many families. Most importantly, the time has come to forgive those who wronged us, whether it be by sending our children to residential schools, or putting us on reservations that limited our livelihood, or by any other way that we’ve been wronged.

Shawn Atleo, Aboriginal First Nations Chief, said ” We can’t work in isolation. The status quo has to be significantly changed, and these young people in the communities where I go need to see, taste and feel results sooner than later. I hope we’re in the kind of tipping point movement that other movements have experienced, whether it’s civil rights, women’s rights, the environmental issues”.

I do find myself torn when it comes to the Idle No More movement. On the one side, I can see where the merits are, where the possibility of change lies, but on the other, I really do wonder what lasting affect this activism will have, especially in seeing self-implosion of the Occupy movement. That said I do dream of a day when Natives are able to live up to their full potential in Canadian society. I dream of a day when the vicious cycles of addiction are finally broken. I dream of a day when I no longer have to worry about slurs and vitriol being flung at me simply because of my ethnic heritage.

Aboriginals have a voice and they have a vote that counts as equally as any other Canadian’s but up to now we’ve squandered that voice. For too long we’ve heard cries of “I’ve been wronged” instead of “I have something to contribute”. We are guilty for our predicament in that we stopped believing we could be more than what we were constantly told we were.

The first step is forgiveness. If we can forgive, we can move forward. I’m excited to see so many of my Aboriginal brothers and sisters coming together in a way never before seen. I just wish it didn’t take the threat of the end of our status as Aboriginals to ignite the fire.