Watch my final project video to see my learning journey through the two topics racism and gender. These were the two topics I learned the most and were the most eye-opening to me. I have really enjoyed this course and how it has change my perspective for my self and others. I hope to share this knowledge with others inside and outside of the classroom.
Category: ECS 110
Dis/ability represented with a slash demonstrates that the word disability can be broken down into dis and ability. Dis means to disrespect, to criticize or lack something. Ability means what people are able to do. Disabled people have the potential to be part of the normative that humans are balanced, independent, and self-sufficient. People who are living with disabilities want to be treated with equality and be included.
Young children may be frightened by disabled people, because they do not understand. I remember as a young child going to work with my mom (a place where disabled people do activities) and there were lots of “different” people. They would squeal and talk different and I could not understand what they said. I was scared when I saw them and would hide under her desk. She would explain this to me, but I still did not understand, until I was I was older. As I got older, I got to know some of the disabled people and could see some of their abilities. There is Ryan, who is blind, tells amazing jokes about how it is nice to see you, or I haven’t seen you in awhile (which is cute, because he has always been blind!) Tyler, who is a lady’s man, will do anything for a hug. Judy, who is getting old and loosing her memory, but all I have to say is my mom’s name who she adores. I also graduated high school with a girl with down syndrome who always makes people smile. She is continuing to take more high school classes, has way too many boyfriends and does regular activities with other high schoolers like attending sports. They all have many abilities that are unique to them. Some abilities that disabled people may have are: math, typing, memorization, and the ability to make people laugh and smile all day long.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that people with special needs and disabilities have bigger hearts than most other people I know. Having a disability does not define the person. As future educators, we must see their ability and strive to help our students progress and treat everyone equally with respect. Acknowledging the ability with in the disability is an important skill for people to understand.
“Sometimes we who are activists and thinkers forget about our bodies, ignore our bodies, or reframe our bodies to fit our theories.” This is an important quote from Stolen Bodies, because it is easy for some people forget about their own body when they do not have to deal with daily struggles as a disabled person or their caretaker. Disability activists believe that disabled bodies do not need to be cured. Disability rights movement has created a new model for people with disabilities, where disabilities do not define by their body. Society is starting to acknowledge the ability by installing wheelchair ramps, automatic doors, etc..
All humans are valued, loved and worth fighting for. People may have hesitant thoughts about disabled people and their relationship with people in society. It is important for everyone to understand that people who are disabled are not any different. We all bleed red, we all die, and we all deserve to be treated with respect. Watch this video called “how you see me”.
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Part One:
Everyone has been taught that girls are bright and beautiful pink and men are strong blue. This was taught before we were born. Our parents may have found out what sex we were before our birth. Some people even host a gender reveal party, a party that reveals the gender of your baby to everyone including the parents using two colours: blue and pink. Is it necessary to identify someone with a colour? My self story, Pink + Blue = Purple, shows how I am not just pink or blue, I am purple, a colour the occurs when you mix blue and pink.
Paige, a classmate of mine, talks about “Picking up my small brushes I began to make small strokes of blue eyeshadow on my eye, hoping to blend it in. I was ecstatic, my first-time applying makeup as a young girl. I knew it was a gender stereotype to wear makeup but there was something about it that overjoyed me.” She knew gender stereotype, and she enjoyed it. She was proud and believed in herself that the makeup would blend.
Some girls think makeup is a form of art. Some girls may wear makeup because it makes them feel beautiful. Social media expects girls to look perfect by wearing makeup. It makes them feel confident and feel beautiful. Some girls may fear they won’t be accepted if they don’t wear makeup.
A quote from one of my other classmates that is a mom is talking about herself, “Brie, most mornings you are killing your mom role.” She has a family, something most girl can’t wait to achieve. Little girls are taught this from their own mom, having siblings and simply playing house at a young age. Being a mom is something I have always wanted to do. It is expected that women want to get married and have children of their own. For many women this is their dream come true, but also an expectation that women are taught. If this expectation isn’t upheld, people may think you are being selfish, because you do not want children or say you are just are not ready.
I wasn’t taught to be a girl or a boy. When I was young, I liked playing with my sister with our dolls, but I also liked playing with my brother and his action figures. A quote from my blog is “We would be so engrossed, we would play for hours!” something every child does when they are having fun and are interested in playing with their toys. I knew other girls played house or dolls at a young age and once they became older they would be interested in fashion, hair, makeup and eventually get married and becoming a mom. I was interested in dolls and playing house, and now as a young adult know a little bit about beauty and do eventually want children when the time is right.
Part Two:
This article talks about the history of pink is for girls, blue is for boys. In the early 1900s pink was accepted as a masculine colour, because it was seen as a stronger colour. Blue was thought of pretty and dainty, which would be feminine. Current society believes the opposite. Parents host a gender reveal party to celebrate their baby’s unknown gender is using pink (girl) and blue(boy).
To me, it shouldn’t matter the gender of your soon to be baby is. I have learned a lot of about gender from my ECS 110 class. There is more then two genders and I think people should learn more about this. Gender is a hard concept to understand and hard for some people to accept. It is hard for some people to accept gender, because we see many stereotypes of how males and females should act. We see this everyday with the media and advertisements. Watch the video, to see how women are sexualized, and thought of as submissive to men.
After reading some of my classmate’s fourth self story about gender, I found Austin’s story. He wrote, “After all I got picked on the previous week for having nail polish on, I guess cause boys are not suppose to like that.” Painting nails should not make men less then a man. When I was a child, my sister and I would paint our nails and often would practice on the rest of our family (my dad, mom and brother). My mom would groom our nails and paint them a bright beautiful colour. She would also paint my brother’s nails, but clear so they look shinny and well groomed. Why should someone be made fun of, because of something they like? I think people should be more accepting of people and like them for them, not based on their appearance. We should look what is in the inside of people.
In 2018, hashtag paint your nails for Bruce (#paintyournailsforbruce) was an online campaign that asked men to paint their nails for Bruce Jenner, who is living as a transgender woman. This showed support to the Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual, Queer (LGBQ) community. Another reason you might see men’s nails painted is because Aaron Gouveia’s son, Sam, was bullied at school for having his nails painted. There was only one child who stood up for Sam. His father posted a tweet telling what happened and posted a picture with himself and his son with their nails painted.
Looking back, comparing my childhood to others, I never realized how lucky I was. I was treated fairly, I was not picked on, because I liked to do boy things, I was accepted by most people. Not being taught to act only one way has given me an open mind and accepting of people.
Bibliography
(Class Material)
Hartmann, Margaret. The History of Pink for Girls, Blue for Boys. 2012. “https://jezebel.com/the-history-of-pink-for-girls-blue-for-boys-5790638”
Zelinski, Sarah. Representation of Gender. 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaB2b1w52yE&feature=youtu.be
(Not Class Material)
Miller, Ryan W. His kindergarten son was bullied for wearing nail polish. So he painted his nails, too. 2018. https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2018/10/23/nail-polish-bullying-dad-paints-nails-son/1745519002/
Before I was born my mother, who was 21 at the time, thoroughly prepared for her new baby to come. I would have a four-year-old brother, and a sister who was one and half years old. My mom had kept most of the clothes from both of my siblings, so I would wear their hand-me-downs. As long as I can remember, I was girl who enjoy typical girl and boy activities.
Whenever, my big sister and her best friend came over, we would play with our barbies. We would be so engrossed, we would play for hours! We would share our dolls and create a family like our own family with a mom and dad and kids. Once we had our family, we would create cool names and jobs for them to have. We would grab our stuffed animals and use them as the Barbie’s bed and then would finally play and talk nonsense.
My sister and I would play dress up and dolls together. For birthday’s and Christmas, I would get Barbie’s and Barbie movies. But when I was five, my sister and I got a pink and a purple barbie car. We didn’t just use it as a barbie car… we would use it and play along with my big brother and little cars.
Other days, my brother and I would play with his dolls…but he would always call them action figures. We would play wrestle with them. We would talk about their names, their music, and their famous wrestling moves. We would always play with: Triple H, John Cena, The Rock, Hulk Hogan, the brothers Kane and the Undertaker and a few more, but these were our favourite. My favourite was John Cena, because he was so strong and won lots. His famous wrestling move was called, “Attitude Adjustment” and his catchphrase was “You can’t see me.”.
Looking back, I wonder what we even talked about or did when we played.
Before my sister and I had our own rooms, we went to bed in our big double bed with the bright pink walls and my mom would always read us books that we chose. Everything I knew was pink. I had lots of pink clothes, some days I would even wear all pink, which wasn’t difficult, because pink was what the majority of my closet was. To this day I still have lots of pink. My two gym bags are pink, the cup and water bottle that I drink out of most of the time is pink. My closet still has lots of pink, but has many other colors including blue. My winter jacket is blue and my car is blue. I notice as I write, this that my nails are painted purple, the colour that you get when you mix pink and blue. A colour I enjoy. My room is purple, my USB key that I use for school is purple, my grad dress was purple, purple has always been one of my favourite colours and always will be.
To this day I still have male and female friends and enjoy learning and doing new things; whether it is girly or not.
Wealth is much more than the money. I have never considered my economic status until this assignment. I thought that wealth was much more than money, it was being able to walk, become educated, having acceptance, receiving and giving love, being thankful and having good health.
Walking. Something so simple, that we do everyday and not even realize how thankful we should be for every step we take. Each step even on cold days in the winter, where your toes are freezing. I did not come to this realization until last year around this time, when I was injured. I still remember that day, I went to the emergency room and I could not get in to see the doctor for awhile and the nurses could not even give me pain medication, because they needed to know what was wrong first. Later, we found out that I sprained my ankle, and torn some tendons and ligaments. I was supposed to be in an air cast for around six to eight weeks and then physiotherapy. It hurt to sleep, walk, bath or do everyday tasks. I needed to get better and fast, and that is what I did.
Education. Something so important, for success in life. Each division of education has their own importance and benefits. Primary education, which is the start of education, that helps throughout life, beginning with simple communication. Secondary education prepares the path to further your study and prepares the ultimate path of your future and your whole life.
Acceptance. Something easy to say, but hard to put into action. People should accept and acknowledge the past and work towards a happier and better future. It is important to be accepted by one another, no matter each other’s difference. We are all people that deserve to be happy and love life with no regrets.
Love. Something not everyone has. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.” (1 Corinthians 13:1) I believe this bible verse describes love.
Thankful. Something everyone should express more. I am thankful for the roof over my head, with the heat that keeps me warm on these -50 degrees Celsius nights and the air condition that keeps the house cool in the hot summer days. I am thankful for the food that I consume everyday and being able to eat the food that I enjoy.
Health. Something taken for granted. Being healthy is not just eating and exercising. It is being able to breathe fresh clean air, freely walking in a safe environment, having access to free health care and our freedom.
My mommy and I stayed home everyday together. My brother and sister are at school, and my mommy and I do not need to pick them up after snack. While they are at school I get to: colour, play games, play outside, cook, do chores with mommy. I love playing outside with my dalmatian puppy, Patches, that has a million spots. We like to play catch and run around the yard. We play for hours and eventually I need a nice cold glass of water to quench my thirst, so I go to the swing where my mom is reading her book, in the shade. We all to go inside. Today is special, we have some ice-cream on a popsicle stick. Mine was purple, my favourite. I open my eyes real big and look around with my bright green eyes to make sure my mom is not looking, so I can share some with my puppy. She loves all the food I share with her and always kisses me with her long, wet tongue. Later, my mom and I watch one of my tv shows, Sponge Bob. But before we watch, we would grab my big fuzzy blanket and lay together on the big comfy couch. My mom would wrap her warm soft arms around me and I would use her as a pillow. Sometimes, she would even fall asleep, this was fun for me because I could watch more tv, which I rarely did. But today was different; I was the one who fell asleep. My mom was watching some show called Olive, Ophelia. Never mind, it was not called either one of those, it was called Oprah—close enough. My mother noticed I woke up. She always knew when I woke up, I never understood how.
I did not understand why this girl named Oprah was darker then me. I asked, my mom “why is her skin different.” My mom’s big brown eyes looked into my bright green eyes and said, ”Melly, she is a person just like you and me. There are many people of all different colours in this big world.” I responded, “Even purple?” She began to giggle, then she became very serious, I did not understand why. She replied, “Would it matter if people were purple, blue, green or orange?” “I do not oranges, they are sour.” I said. She replied, “But you like taking your orange vitamins that make you big and strong. Go get your box of crayons and colouring book.” We open the box and my mom says, “mhmmm I see.” I did not know what my mommy saw, so I said, “You see what mommy?” Mommy said, “You use all the colours in the box.” And I said, “Because I like them all and I need them all for colouring.” My mommy’s eyes got brighter, and she smiled as she said, “See what I mean, you use them all and need them all. It makes the world a colourful place” I was still confused, but I decided to colour anyways.
My race was not hidden from me. It was the town I lived in. At the time, there were not many other races then white. But now the town is much more diverse, where everyone is accepted regardless of their race.
My great-grandparents immigrated to Canada from Europe in the 1920’s.
My siblings and I were lucky to go over to their cozy house and spend quality time with them during the occasional lunch hour, while our parents were away. Looking back, I remember walking across the school yard, then down the street. My grandparents would meet us at the door to greet us warmly, you could hear and smell the dripping coffee. My grandma would always make cheesy macaroni, with the cheese from a can. My grandma would always know when we were coming and would make homemade dessert which was always a surprise, but always so sweet and delicious. I could say that this is one of the reasons that I have such a sweet tooth and a love for baking.
The two of them would celebrate sixty years marriage. Lots of family, that I did not know, came to celebrate. This did not worry me, it made me happy, because my grandparents were excited to see their family that they have not seen in years. They treated me as if I was a shinny medal, that they wanted to show off to everyone. My favourite memory is dancing with my grandpa. He was all dressed up, which meant it was a special occasion. He danced too fast for me, so he let me keep my little feet on top of his big feet. His strong warm body would swing me around, laughing and singing parts of the song.
A few years later, my grandmother got suddenly sick and died shortly after. My family decided to move him into long-term care, where he could be better helped by professionals. We were able to visit him there. He even had a girlfriend. Yes, my 85-year-old grandpa had a girlfriend and 15-year-old me didn’t know a thing about boyfriends. My family learned that his girlfriend was someone he used to write letters to when he was in the war.
My grandfather was getting older. My dad had told us that he would not eat, talk and had troubles taking his medication. His body was frail, his ankles were swollen and his war tattoos were undistinguishable, and his face was smaller, but always smiled when we came in. We knew he was ready to go and did not want to be in the pain any longer. So, we would visit him more frequently. My sister, dad and I went to see him. He was the happiest he had been in a long time. We would try to stay strong for him and not cry. Most of time it felt as if he was already gone, sometimes we would lay in his bed and be with him. It was difficult knowing that he was in pain and time was running out. We would talk nonsense and play with his harmonicas that he used to play and adore. Before we left, we would always give a hug and kiss along with I love you and leave.
My mom was away one day, and my dad was at work. So, my sister drove us to school that day. While were home for lunch the phone rang. We were happy and laughing and making sandwiches one second and the next moment I knew. I was speechless. My heart felt like it stopped. I was still. I could only cry. I remember, he kissed me and mumbled I love you. Those were his first words in days that he had spoken, and his last words and they meant the world to me. My grandmother and grandfather unconditionally loved me before I was born and until their final breath. They didn’t need a house to be happy they needed each other. They were each other’s home and I became part of their home.
I am a fourth generation Canadian, a great-granddaughter. Some would say, a home is a house where people live, but to me that is just a house and there is many houses and places to live. Others would say, a home is the place where you live with your family. But everyone should believe a home is much more then just a place. A home is nothing if you cannot share it with someone. Home is not a place to me, home is a person. Home for me is many places.
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