void

Some days
blend, endless
like unset ink
bleeding hours minutes seconds
into one unit of time
mind drifts
and
swells
in
the

void

I be Hatin'.

As you might have noticed (or, if you managed not to, colour me shocked), yesterday was February 14th, Valentine's day. As a child, I always kind of liked Valentine's day. You got to make pretty little mailbox crafts in school, and you'd get fun cards from the kids in your class. Valentine's was an outpouring of love. It was, of course artificial love, and even back then, centered around the expectation that you'd give cards to receive them. But, I didn't mind. The point was, back then, everyone was included, even the odd kid in your class who never said a word and picked his nose a lot. Even he got a card that said 'I like you!' So what if it was lies?

As we age, however, Valentine's stops being inclusive. It becomes a day that is to be celebrated with a significant other, or alone with a pint of Haagen Daas (or a bottle of tequila for the true lonely hearts). Valentine's becomes a contrived observance steeped in expectation once you reach a certain age. For those who are single, it is a reminder of thus. For those who are coupled, men have an expectation to perform, (and not in the enjoyable way), and (some) women feel entitled to their one day a year flowers and chocolates. For serious? This is how we express love?

In high school, my sis Michelle and I decided that this whole day was balls. One V-day, I made her a card, that said "Happy Two Cool Sisters Day!" (proving just how nerdy we really were). Every year thereafter, we still wish each other a Happy Two Cool Sisters day. My sister is married, and she still refuses to celebrate Valentine's day. This makes me proud.

The thing is, I really love love. I adore everything about it. I love seeing expressions of love, and the way people who are truly in love interact with each other. I am by no means a bitter single person. I am full of happiness and pleasure and joy. My Auntie Doriann's birthday happens to also be valentine's day, and her partner wrote her a song, and posted it on facebook for all to see. I love that. I love seeing two people I adore joining their lives together; I love seeing people who after 40 years together, like my parents, are still totally happy and in love. It makes me so happy to see people become stronger, better-off people because they have that positive force in their life. I just honestly feel like Valentine's day doesn't celebrate love, it celebrates the expectation of what love should be. People who are in love are lucky, and in my opinion, every day is their day. There is absolutely nothing more sublime than the feeling of being in love. As my older sister K says: "Love is my favourite drug".

Maybe my hate-on for Valentine's day is actually born of my love of love, and I hate seeing something so amazing corrupted by this red and pink teddy bear heart chocolate long stem roses crap that gets vomited over everything for the first few weeks of February. If you love someone, and you want to get them a gift to show them that, by all means go for it. But, please, make it something that is actually of meaning to them, rather than one of these clichés that are so horribly overdone.

The last several years (whether or not I was in a relationship), I've made a point of spending Valentine's day with my friends. I've had Valentines with 8 people over pitchers and wings, Valentines that have turned into kitchen dance parties lubricated by excessive amounts of tequila, Valentines at the movies watching a slasher horror flick, and this year, I had a nice Valentine's with my roomie, working out and making a nice dinner together, followed by crochet and House. I love celebrating love, you see. I just don't like being told how to do it.

Yesterday, I got a message from my ex, wishing me a happy V.D. I wrote back, and said "Happy Venereal Disease to you, too!" And then I laughed.

Thoughts on the Bullying Question

For several months now, bullying has been prevalent in the media in

a way that it really hadn't been before. After several gay teens in the United States committed suicide as a result of bullying, a national level discussion emerged around the damage of bullying and the lofty notion of zero tolerance. Largely, the focus of the discussion was about victim impact, and in some cases looked at the larger question of a culture that turned a blind eye to the exploitation and abuse of gay youth. Dan Savage, of the brilliant and internationally syndicated advice column, 'Savage Love', started the 'It Gets Better" campaign, promising youth to keep pushing through and things will improve. It was inspiring, moving and touching and gathered the support of people in the public eye across the US, right up to the President.

During this high profile discussion of bullying, there has been very little talk about the bullies themselves. What makes a bully? And, is it a simple 'white hats/black hats' type of affair? Through my work, I

am exposed to daily discussions about bullying. These discussions talk about three groups of kids: the bullies, the victims, and the bystanders. Its often easiest to focus on one side of the coin, rather than another. I started thinking about writing this entry after watching Sunday night's Glee episode, the much hyped post-Superbowl episode. Typically, when Glee has a really hyped up episode, it tends to disappoint me. The Superbowl episode, however, did something quite unexpected that made me incredibly impressed and moved: they humanized the bully.

Its so easy on television shows to make these things appear to be simple. Kurt, the spunky, opinionated openly gay glee club member was tormented by Karovsky, the closeted teenage bully. Its easy to say, 'Karovsky bad, Kurt good'. Of course Kurt is good, and of course Karovsky's actions were bad. Kurt felt so endangered and terrified at school every day that he ended up transferring to another school. However, in the most recent episode, instead of continuing to vilify Karovsky, the show had teachers attempting to support, encourage, and include him. Student leaders followed suit. Instead of allowing further division, they showed that through support and inclusion, people can channel their frustrations into something more productive. While they had a breakthrough moment with Karovsky (who secretly is good at the song and dance glee routine), I thought the ending was much more realistic. It didn't end happily with Karovsky wanting to join the glee club, it ended with him denying his enjoyment of glee, and focused on his desire to maintain his social status, and not appear 'gay'. "I'm on top right now, why would I want to change anything?"

Today, in the Globe and Mail, there was an article about how popular kids are most likely to be bullies. What was most surprising to me about this was that it was news at all. I was a victim of bullying in school, and it was never done by a socially marginalized kid. It was ALWAYS the same group of girls who thought they had the right to degrade and humiliate other classmates who they considered 'less than'. To me, its interesting looking back that it never remotely occurred to me to say anything to anyone about it. Fear of reprisal for being a 'narc' was far greater than a desire for a bully to get suspended for a few days. Eventually, my own social status climbed to the point that I was no longer an appropriate/easy target. I would defend myself, and defended those who I saw being bullied.

People in high school who weren't victims or perpetrators of bullying were almost certainly bystanders, the problem being that pervasive in schools. Almost everyone witnesses bullying. Sometimes, someone speaks. Sometimes, someone will come to another person's defense, but, that's rare. I had close, lifelong friends who witnessed me being bullied and stood by without speaking. They were good, kind people, but terrified of provoking the bullies and creating enemies for themselves. Much research indicates that if we find a way to remove the bystander, we remove all of the bully's power. Bullying rarely happens without witnesses; that would defeat its purpose as a social tool.

Is it possible to overcome this issue? I really don't know. Can we teach empathy in a different way? What made me speak out for other kids being bullied was that I had been bullied myself, but had risen to a social position that meant it wasn't a threat for me anymore. Empathy was fundamentally what drove me, though. How do we create a climate where kids who are bullied are protected, but the bullies are supported as well? How do we remove bystanders? I wish I had answers. Instead, all I have are questions, all bundled inside the complex microcosm of the extremes of human nature that is high school.