September 20, 2010

• Diamond Days

  I can go without drawing or making music, but if I don’t blog for a length of time my mind feels crowded and mentally tired like when you don’t sleep enough. There are words and phrases continuously crawling around the crevices of my brain and at the end of the day they accumulate like dirty laundry; your living space becomes quite unlivable if it doesn’t get cleaned out every so often. Xanga is like real-life Dumbledore’s Pensieve.

  I’m officially calling this the White Semester. I’m one of the only two Asian people in my French class (that hasn’t happened since high school French immersion), and I’m the only non-white person on the campus radio exec. I’ve been in white-majority situations before of course, but I feel my difference more acutely when I can’t run along with the crowd.

  French is actually okay because class is fun and we all get along, but I’m having a hard time at the station. I have a feeling that the two female execs aren’t very fond of me, ([Wings] doesn’t count because she’s the kind of person who is determined to sit through awkward conversations in order to get to know a person. Also she’s a senior) and so far I don’t know how to relate to the other white guys.

  I’m kind of annoyed because on the job description it says [radio station] encourages applications from individuals of traditionally disadvantaged groups including, but not limited to First Nations, women, queer, persons of colour and immgrants, but since I’m not one of them I feel like their token Asian person, their embodied declaration of Look-We’re-So-Progressive. (Similar to My Black Friend or My Gay Friend)

  The only person who makes the station feel like home is [Zen]. He’s one of the first people I met at work, and it so happens that I’m dorky enough to get his humour and vice versa. I grew suspicious however when, by the end of the week, he kept asking me to hang out outside of work. He was giving off jealous vibes when [Bomberman], whose job I took, came last week in to show me the ropes. Bomberman’s closer to my age and it turns out we have 13 mutual friends (oh facebook), so the two of us ended up just hanging around and chatting.

  Anyway, I really don’t need for it to get complicated with one of my only friends at work. I bumped into a recital club member outside the station last week, and when our conversation had ended Zen was just leaving the building. Zen and I were making small goodbye talk when he gestured for a hug, which in retrospect I think is out of line for this type of work-relationship, but I obliged. And in the half-second I pressed up against him I felt something lonely and something whole at the same time, and I didn't know if it had been him or me. I let go before I could find out. I walked to the station without looking back and pretended nothing happened.

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  I’ve read too much feminist literature to not be influenced by them, and I believe that we have to protect and empower girls more than anything. I have also derived from my Chinese heritage a hyperactive Big Sister complex which I feel is necessary to practice upon anybody who could be considered a disadvantaged female relative to myself, such as English-challenged international students or 1st-2nd year girls or people who are left out of the circle when people stand in groups to chat. I think I scared away this white 2nd year girl in my stats course with my insistent Chinese hospitality (she literally ran from the class lol oops).

  I find it strange therefore, how I’ve been hanging around mostly guys this semester. It’s been an interesting change, and I like how guys are generally less filtered and inhibited than girls, but I wish Starr were the one to pick up the phone and call me.

  • 12:39 pm
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