Card Game of Shame

Dear Diary,

My cultural diversity class is moving right along now, already into week four. I feel like my perspective, or cultural lens, has grown a little wider. I’m making connections both in experience and emotions with each activity we do in class. Last week I participated in a very frustrating, but eye opening activity. We were instructed to play a card game, and we were put into groups and given a sheet of instructions on how to play the game. First I must mention that I am rubbish at card games. I have no idea why it takes me so long to pick up on the rules, and while I have many theories none of them are very interesting. So needless to say I was pretty bummed when I picked up the rule sheet. I tried my hardest to understand what I was going to have to do and how the game was to be played. To make matters worse we were not allowed to talk the entire time, so there was no way for me to communicate to my partner just how useless to her I was about to be. As we rotated from one group to another I continued to get more and more confused.Rather than shut down in frustration I just decided to adopt the ‘fake it till you make it’ rule of thumb. I would learn latter that each group had been given a slightly different set of instructions, so it would not have mattered if I had understood my own original game rules. Even so I watch other player’s closely and did my best to emulate what I witnessed them doing. If I did something incorrect I just let them correct my mistake or keep placing cards down till whatever I did was accepted by the group. When the group would look at me in confusion I would just stare back and smile or shrug my shoulders, embarrassment getting very overwhelming. I felt so stupid and frustrated it really was a rather horrible few minutes.

When it was all over I couldn’t help but want to bang my head on my desk, ‘couldn’t we have just played go fish’, I said to my partner exhausted. Not being able to talk made things so difficult, I can pick something up much faster if I hear it explained. I also felt like I had been the only one struggling to understand the game. Until our professor revealed that all the rules had been different on purpose, so everyone had been through the ringer too. The light bulb went on in my head and all at once I understood the purpose of this game (it did nothing to sooth my pride though). This experience simulated what it would be like to be from another culture while visiting or living in a new country. You might not be able speak to the locals, so rules, laws, and customs would all be very difficult to pick up. You might find yourself imitating what you saw in order to fit in, and depending on the rule or legislation of a city an individual could find themselves in a lot of trouble. On a positive note thought I realized that while I could not communicate I was still able to play the game with others. I realized that this can also be true for a person who is immigrating or visiting a new place.

Communication does not always have to be verbal and with effort something important, like a card game rules, can be conveyed. I liked that this experience was emotional, even though I got frustrated and embarrassed I’m never going to forget this card game or the simulation. I feel like on a small level I can now empathize better with how frustrating it might be to an immigrant, or someone visiting a new country, to pick up local customs and language.I think as a child and youth worker, this is definitely going to come up in the field, and I will have to come up with a competent way to work with a child and their family that is respectful. A child from an immigrant family that perhaps can’t speak a lot of English may be experiencing some of the emotions I did when I played this game. I know that felt pretty crappy the entire time we were playing, exhausted by end really. I look forward to the rest of the semester where I can learn some cultural competent strategies to help a child and their family receive the assistance they need.

Books, Books, Books

Dear Diary,

Last week in Cultural Issues and Diversity we talked a little bit about culture and language. Our professor read from a children’s book called ‘If the world was a village’, which put some of the world’s prominent cultures in your backyard. It really got me thinking how little of other languages I know. Even Canada has two official languages and I can only speak one of them. It also got me to thinking about my time as a librarian, and the collections of children’s books I helped develop with culture inclusiveness in mind. The phrase, ‘If the world was a village’ reminded me of a phrase I used to build a particular collection of children’s books. The phrase was ‘A smile is the same in every language’. This class has gotten me thinking more about that phrase. I’m not entirely certain that it remains true, when we consider that a small gesture can mean something different to even two people of the same culture. But back then the collection I was maintaining was created in mind to teach inclusiveness and friendliness between children. I had so many wonderful books in the collection, some about Native American culture, Jewish culture, African culture; the list goes on. There was one type of book however that was my absolute favorite. I had bundled an entire collection of books that had no print, only illustrations. The reason why I loved these books so much was that no matter who picked them up you could still enjoy them. For the exception of an individual who is blind, these illustrated only children’s books were the most inclusive book I had ever seen.

With a story told only in pictures you are free to infer what you think is going on. A child who cannot read English, or perhaps cannot read at all can still pull these books off the shelf and enjoy them. I also liked that a child who may not have someone to read to them can still pull these books from the shelves and independently enjoy them. Two people could read one of these books at the same time and take away a different experience. One of my favorites of the bunch was a book called ‘Chalk’, illustrated by Bill Thomson. Its illustrations were so beautiful and open to inference I wrote a small review for the book. After some time the author messaged me thanking me for taking the time to read and review his book, (which was a big thrill for little old me).

When I decided to pursue being a child and youth worker, I kept records of the collections I worked with. I am truly passionate about books and the healing power they can bestow children. I also think they can be wonderful tools to teach new and interesting things, like cultural differences. Reading to a child is a great way to introduce new ideas at an early start.

So books about let’s say, other countries and cultures, can help expose and intrigue a child early on. I’d like to believe that such books could help end prejudice and racism even ethnocentrism, but perhaps that is a little too advantageous of me. This class has also challenged me to seek out new titles that promote cultural awareness in an even more inclusive manor. I will continue to build my collection as a tool for me when I enter the field proper. Included in my blog today will be pictures of some of these titles I have already, and I encourage any reader to give them a look!

My own personal experience with cultural children’s books came from a book my mother read me as a child. The book was called, ‘Sooshewan: Child of the Beothuk’, by Donald Gale. It was the story of a young Beothuk girl and her coming of age journey. Her tribe community was facing a harsh winter and even the best hunters in the tribe were having difficulty bring in food. The community was facing starvation. Sooshewan was a very childish and selfish girl before her journey. One of her family duties was to look after her grandmother who was so ill she could not leave her bed. One day Sooshewan’s father, one of the great hunters of the village, decided to venture farther then the hunting parties had gone in order to bring home food. He was gone some time and when he did not return Sooshewan and her family began to worry. During her father’s absence Sooshewan’s grandmother passed away, and the community preformed her funeral rite. That night Sooshewan’s grandmother came to her in a vision and told her of the danger her father was in. Sooshewan knew how important her father was to her family and the community, if he was not found or food was not brought back, many more could be lost. So with her grandmother’s spirit guiding her she went out into the wilderness to search for her father. Her time in the wild strengthened her in mind and body. She would eventually find her father wounded and taking shelter in a crude hunting hut.

Using all she knew she helped nurse her father back to health and found food for her village. I can’t even remember the number of times I begged my Mum to read this story to me. I was always fascinated by it, and this story book is one of the reasons why Native American culture intrigues me still today. What stood out most to me then and now is the funeral for the grandmother. The whole community morns her lost but celebrates her life in one moment. She is lifted on a wooden pyre and all her belongings are laid out alongside her. Many of the possession she made herself. Then her body and belongings were burned so her spirit could be released to the sky. I remember thinking how beautiful the ceremony must have been in real life, and how much less sad Sooshewan’s people seemed. At the time I had been to a funeral for an uncle, and nothing about our funeral seemed joyful at all. There was one similarity though, after the burning Sooshewan’s community made a special meal which everyone shared. In the story food is scarce, but still even the smallest child partakes in this special meal. It reminded me of after the funeral, there was a meal where relatives all brought food for the family and food for guests. We all shared this food and talked about the deceased and their life. I guess if we look far enough back into any culture we can see the roots of where our rituals and traditions began. When I was little I liked to think that in some way this connected Sooshewan’s people and I together. I’m twenty four now, and I still feel the same way about the book now as I did then. Sooshewan and many other characters like her I feel inspired me to be who I am today, and it’s why I know for certain how positive and powerful books can be.

Chalk Book Trailer
A cute video of two girls showing thier Beothuk pride! 

My Culture and Me

Dear Diary,

Culture and diversity, a rather large mouthful to say isn’t it? I have to be honest I am both excited for this class and a little nervous. I love learning new things, especially new things about people and cultures. But for our first entry this week we are supposed to talk about ourselves, which has to be my least favorite topic of all time. Mostly in part because I find myself a rather boring subject for study. I would much rather delve into cultures I know very little about. But I do respect the premise of getting in touch with one’s own culture first, before exploring others. If we are to be culturally competent as child and youth workers  we need to understand our identities first I suppose. It’s just I’m a rather private person; I don’t think I will ever get used to sharing information about myself (certainly not in a blog form). I’m not used to being asked really, so I’m not used to having to talk about myself. And yet this course as a whole has asked me to reveal a lot about myself. I’ve always considered myself a very self-aware person. But sharing this awareness with others is a very awkward process for me, so I hope you will bear with me. 

As far as cultural identity goes, I can confidently say I don’t really have a standard one. I could go on about how my grandfather was part French, and my grandmother was English and that she came to Canada with my grandfather after World War 2. But then I wouldn’t have much to write about because that’s pretty much the gist of it. My family doesn’t have any traditions unique to us or where our roots begin. Nor do they pass on any traditions,values or anything that might be English, French or a mark of cultural identity at all. Fear not though I have come up with something to complete this blog on a more positive tone. You see this lack of unity in my family is my hypothesis as to why we are not a close family. We are a very large family, but a very distant one. In my youth though, I did gravitate to a culture that did give me a sense of identity. It might surprise you but it has been my experience that a culture can be something you choose rather then something you are born into, and that culture can be a broader perspective and span a larger distance then country and creed. The culture I ended up identifying with and making it a large part of me is the video gaming culture. Surprised? Perhaps not, in any case let me try to explain as best I can why this qualifies.

The video gaming culture was introduced to me when I was young, probably around 10 years of age, but I didn’t truly enter that world until I was 17. I was an ‘only child', so finding ways to amuse myself occupied most of my day. As a child I played outside a lot and read books a lot, so I loved adventure! I didn’t have many solid friends growing up because my Mum and I moved around a lot. So Batman, Link, Gordon Freeman, these characters became both role models and friends. Imagination was second nature to me, so when I discovered the possibilities with video games I was quickly hooked. When I wasn’t playing the games I was imagining myself running through the streets of Gotham, playing in the Kokiri forest, or dodging alien blasts while solving physic puzzles. If any of these terms is unfamiliar to you then that brings me to my next point about video gaming culture. Like with any culture there is slang, code, values, ethics, language, norms, identities, crossover with other cultures, and much more that makes you feel rather like you’re in a secret special club. Learning the nuances of this culture comes with age and experience and is always changing. It borrows some identities with the technological era it runs parallel with and with the animation scene. So many individuals in this culture have to understand those as well to stay proficient and current. I know many argue that video games are violent and that the individuals in this culture are as well but as a member of this community I can say that with any culture there is prejudice and that is a topic I would like to save for another blog.

The video game community has really been like a second family, one where I have found laughter, adventure, support, love and friends. And what I love most about my culture is that it is very inclusive, anyone can be a part of it, (you just have to learn to ignore those internet trolls and you’re good)! Like any family you have all types, and you don’t always get along, but you learn and grow and there is always one adventure or another that suits people on an individual level. So unlike some cultures it’s very flexible. It makes up a big part, if not the biggest part of who I am as a person.

Through the games I’ve played I have lived vicariously, as if I’ve lived a thousand lives and seen a thousand adventures. In many cases the characters I’ve met are more real to me then some real people I know because of the impact they have had in shaping my growth. I look forward to going into more detail as I continue to explore culture and diversity this year, but for now I think I better end this tale where it is. As a parting thought I’d like share a quote that I think places my perspective of the video game culture more in line with the work of a child and youth worker. The quote is by Chesterton and he says, “Fairy tales don’t tell children dragons exist, children already know dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children dragons can be killed.”

 

      (A video game trailer from one of my favorite games)