After taking the group mid-term we were asked about the 5 things that aided our group in successfully completing the mid-term, and this got me thinking...
I believe that the group I am in works well together. Although we have different backgrounds and different personalities we are able to work well together. Establishing roles at the beginning of the term has helped tremendously. We do not always follow our roles rigidly; however, each person fulfills her/his role when needed (And, often beyond what is simply "needed").
A few things that helped us in the mid-term, and on other group assignments, have been time-management, establishing goals and a plan of action, allowing each other to speak and be heard, encouraging one another to contribute and taking each idea into consideration, reviewing our work and making suggestions, mutual respect, and laughter. It seems like our group always has a few minutes to talk about eating cookies and laugh... I think this is a nice way to end each session.
I just thought I should mention it.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Friday, March 9, 2007
What I've Learned: A Future Librarian's 10-17
"Those who talk about revolution and class struggle without recognizing what is positive in the refusal of constraints and what is subversive about love – such people have a corpse in their mouth." —Raoul Vangiem
I wonder if I am loved. It is not a question, really, at least not one asked of another. Beneath its surface dance tones and rhythms of seeking, pleading, yearning, searching - but it is stated. Solid. Alone. I wonder if I am loved. It’s all I have really, this statement that states nothing except the question it cannot quite find its way to be. These letters and spacings, grouped this way, or that, with others (always only other letters and other spacings), with more or less, but always these, these same, these letters: I wonder if I am loved. But to whom do I speak? I am speaking only to myself, always only to myself, for that is all there is. I am trapped in a world which I am told that I have made, although I forget doing so. I find myself always searching for this forgotten beginning, this archaic time, this primordial, primeval, archaic place, where life was safer, simpler, easier, a place before this place and outside this time where I am now, alone, trapped in a language that is a world that is a “there is” that is just myself, the “I”, hidden, un-enunciated, robbed of place, of time, and of itself. Of choice. For there is me, or there is the “me” hidden in illusions of languages and worlds that are only myself hiding from a past I do not know that calls to me from a place I cannot imagine. I feel the yearning for it, and constantly I search to find this past or this place. I make countless tools to help me in this pursuit. I build homes to shelter me in my search, and envelopes in which to hide and feel comforted when the search feels hopeless and lost and the wind feels cold. At night, I masturbate to relax so that I can sleep. There is no pleasure in it, no jouissance - only the other side of the feverish pace of my producing: the rest I need so that I can do it all over again tomorrow. This is the solipso-technecro-disjointed world of which I am (the creator? the sustainer? the prisoner?). I wonder if I am loved.
Toronto’s old streetcar district
On the Westside of the line
In a dive among dives,
dim with smoke, and
Tom Waits’ song;
Where grand hopes are traded
for cheap wine
Two young autumn women
feed leaves to the ground.
Pisinoe came too and
sang that night
Though the sirens did not scream
It was the ocean’s roar.
But she couldn’t stop throwing
rocks at the sky
Sad woman, draw close, and let me
kiss your knees
Bruised from the fall
that pushed you around.
Let me hold you so tight that
you can hear
my heart beating
Beating the drums of this thing
we fear,
love.
Cut off your hands
Cut off your feet
Cut the tongue from the voice of
the dreamers,
Choking on the corpse that sheds
light on the dying.
But, just last night
we danced to Morrissey,
Didn’t we?
We threw garland around
the Trinity,
Didn’t we?
Our hands are covered in the
blood of red
As we pray to the Virgin Mother;
Better to mix the living
with the dead
And behold – to embrace an other.
A-men, A-men.
I wonder if I am loved. It is not a question, really, at least not one asked of another. Beneath its surface dance tones and rhythms of seeking, pleading, yearning, searching - but it is stated. Solid. Alone. I wonder if I am loved. It’s all I have really, this statement that states nothing except the question it cannot quite find its way to be. These letters and spacings, grouped this way, or that, with others (always only other letters and other spacings), with more or less, but always these, these same, these letters: I wonder if I am loved. But to whom do I speak? I am speaking only to myself, always only to myself, for that is all there is. I am trapped in a world which I am told that I have made, although I forget doing so. I find myself always searching for this forgotten beginning, this archaic time, this primordial, primeval, archaic place, where life was safer, simpler, easier, a place before this place and outside this time where I am now, alone, trapped in a language that is a world that is a “there is” that is just myself, the “I”, hidden, un-enunciated, robbed of place, of time, and of itself. Of choice. For there is me, or there is the “me” hidden in illusions of languages and worlds that are only myself hiding from a past I do not know that calls to me from a place I cannot imagine. I feel the yearning for it, and constantly I search to find this past or this place. I make countless tools to help me in this pursuit. I build homes to shelter me in my search, and envelopes in which to hide and feel comforted when the search feels hopeless and lost and the wind feels cold. At night, I masturbate to relax so that I can sleep. There is no pleasure in it, no jouissance - only the other side of the feverish pace of my producing: the rest I need so that I can do it all over again tomorrow. This is the solipso-technecro-disjointed world of which I am (the creator? the sustainer? the prisoner?). I wonder if I am loved.
Toronto’s old streetcar district
On the Westside of the line
In a dive among dives,
dim with smoke, and
Tom Waits’ song;
Where grand hopes are traded
for cheap wine
Two young autumn women
feed leaves to the ground.
Pisinoe came too and
sang that night
Though the sirens did not scream
It was the ocean’s roar.
But she couldn’t stop throwing
rocks at the sky
Sad woman, draw close, and let me
kiss your knees
Bruised from the fall
that pushed you around.
Let me hold you so tight that
you can hear
my heart beating
Beating the drums of this thing
we fear,
love.
Cut off your hands
Cut off your feet
Cut the tongue from the voice of
the dreamers,
Choking on the corpse that sheds
light on the dying.
But, just last night
we danced to Morrissey,
Didn’t we?
We threw garland around
the Trinity,
Didn’t we?
Our hands are covered in the
blood of red
As we pray to the Virgin Mother;
Better to mix the living
with the dead
And behold – to embrace an other.
A-men, A-men.
Social Theory Issues and Librarianship: An Instance
I am still thinking about International Women's Day and the role of women in institutions. I re-read a book by Benhabib that I have enjoyed in the past...
Feminist Social Theories. Seyla Benhabib. Situating the Self.
Summary
In Situating the Self: Gender, Community and Postmodernism in Contemporary Ethics, Seyla Benhabib puts forward a thesis that defends the tradition of universalism. She proposes that a post-Enlightenment universalism is feasible and capable of being carried out.
Benhabib begins her introduction to a twenty-first century understanding of universalism by referencing the Greeks and, also, Hegel. The Greeks provide a dual conception of time that allows us to think of the past, present, and future not only in terms of chronology (kronos), but, also, through the expressions of opportunities (kairos). Contrary to Hegel’s notion of philosophy as understanding the world as it is rather than how it should be (Benhabib writes, “[We] are not like the ‘owl of Minerva’ which spreads its wings only at dusk.”), Benhabib suggests that the present symbolic, social, and political situation is our occasion for opportunity. Today’s “postism” world is a world that recognizes the downfalls of the “project of modernity.” For instance, Benhabib writes that there is “an understandable disillusionment with a form of life that still perpetrates war, armament, environmental destruction and economic exploitation at the cost of satisfying basic human needs with human dignity, a form of life that still relegates many women, non-Christian and non-white peoples to second-class moral and political status, a form of life that saps the bases of solidaristic coexistence in the name of profit and competition” (2). Yet, at the same time, the “project of modernity” harbours certain legacies that are worth reconstructing. Benhabib points out that these legacies include “moral and political universalism, committed to the now seemingly ‘old-fashioned’ and suspect ideals of universal respect for each person in virtue of their humanity; the moral autonomy of the individual; economic and social justice and equality; democratic participation; the most extensive civil and political liberties compatible with principles of justice; and the formation of solidaristic human associations” (2).
A post-Enlightenment universalism, Benhabib suggests, is possible via the disenchantment of metaphysical illusions. The metaphysical illusions of the Enlightenment include those of “a self-transparent and self-grounding reason,” “a disembedded and disembodied object,” and “an Archimedean standpoint” (4). Communitarians, feminists, and postmodernists have offered a voice of critique concerning Enlightenment metaphysical illusions. They have spoken against “the claims of a ‘legislating’ reason” to steer morality, and have revealed its inability “to deal with the indeterminacy and multiplicity of contexts and life-situations with which practical reason is always confronted” (3). Benhabib (influenced by Karl-Otto Apel and Jürgen Habermas) proposes that there ought to be a formulation of a postmetaphysical universalist position. She describes the postmetaphysical condition in terms of a continual discourse devoid of (psychologically attributed) “givens;” “It is the discourse of the community of inquirers (Charles Sanders Peirce) which first assigns an evidential or other type of value to aspects of our consciousness or experience, and brings them into play as factors which support our claims to the veracity of our beliefs” (5). She suggests that steps must be taken to formulate post-Enlightenment universalism. First, we must move from a substantialistic understanding of reality “to a discursive, communicative concept of rationality” (5). Second, subjects of reason can no longer be understood as disembodied cogitos (Enlightenment) or as “the continuity of a substance in time” (Empiricism); instead, subjects are individuals whom, through contingent processes, author and act upon and within a world narrative (5). It follows that Benhabib recommends a shift from “legislative to interactive rationality” (6). The moral point of view (like reason) is not a timeless Archimedean standpoint; instead, ethical life should be based on “the contingent achievement of an interactive form of rationality” (6).
Benhabib writes that, “[Her] goal is to situate reason and the moral self more decisively in contexts of gender and community, while insisting upon the discursive power of individuals to challenge such situatedness in the name of universalistic principles, future identities and as yet undiscovered communities” (8). Benhabib proposes that via the exercise of “enlarged thinking” (Hannah Arendt) and moral conversation, the principle of universalizability will look forward to communication and agreement. What is not guaranteed in this model is unanimous consensus. However, what this model does demonstrate is “the will and the readiness to seek understanding with the other and to reach some reasonable agreement in an open-ended moral conversation” (9). To cultivate enlarged thinking though, the identity of the moral self must be reconceptualized against legalistic universalism. Instead of relying on the standpoint of the generalized other, the concrete other must be recognized as a reasoning and acting moral person capable of engaging in and pursuing “the good.” If we are to pursue ethical lives through participatory democracy then it is essential for Benhabib to introduce public discourse in her attempts to uphold universalism. She supports a proceduralist model of the public sphere. In the proceduralist model there does not exist an a priori agenda and the agenda lines can be continually “redrawn by the participants in the conversation” (12). It is here that Benhabib brings up the classic distinction between the public and the private. If we are to talk about public discourse then it is imperative to talk about what constitutes the public sphere, what constitutes the private sphere, and the line dividing the two (historically, classically, presently, and looking toward the future). In particular, feminist thought contributes to questions and critiques concerning the public and the private. Such feminist critique points to other epistemological inclinations in Western rationality. For instance, how we understand difference affects/effects our attitudes and practices in connection with gender issues and marginalization. So, Benhabib is not only concerned with a theoretical endorsement of a post-Enlightenment tradition of universalism; she is concerned with how a post-Enlightenment understanding of universalism is relevant in public and private discourse amongst concrete individuals including the marginalized and in the context of gender (without dismissing the voices of postmodernists that fight against logocentrism, imperialism, and the standards of rationality).
One important theme that Benhabib brings up in the introduction is “postconventional Sittlichkeit.” Like Hegel (in Philosophy of Right), she “envisage[s] a universalistic moral point of view as situated within an ethical community” (11). For our purposes, Sittlichkeit can be understood as referring to “ethical life” in reference to normative morality. Sittlichkeit describes the ethical norms that should guide our everyday practical reasoning. These ethical norms should be dialogical and directly associated with the duties and virtues embedded in central institutions of modern social life (i.e. the family, civil society, and the state). Hegel rejects, for example, Plato and Kant’s notions of Sittlichkeit because “the good life” is both ahistorical and definitively prescriptive in nature. Hegel’s understanding of “the moral point of view” is descriptive and, also, normative. Benhabib’s pursuit for a postconventional Sittlichkeit can be understood via Hegel’s framework. This is important to Benhabib because her understanding of “postconventional” Sittlichkeit is different than the integrationist perspective of certain communitarian thinkers (Michael Sandel and Alasdair ManIntyre). She is concerned that conventional thinkers often become too reliant upon their own particular tradition. She says, “[They] seek to reconstitute community via recouping and reclaiming an integrative vision of fundamental values and principles…” (11). In contrast to integrationists, she supports the participationists because they “envisage such a community as emerging from common action, engagement and debate in the civic and public realms of democratic societies” (11).
On one hand I resonate with integrationist thinkers. For instance, their emphasis upon one’s own tradition (roots) is appealing not only in terms of the psyche but in terms of practical actions (within a given context). In After Virtue, MacIntyre writes, “A central thesis then begins to emerge: man is in his actions and practice, as well as in his fictions, essentially a story-telling animal. He is not essentially, but becomes through his history, a teller of stories that aspire to truth. But the key question for men is not about their own authorship; I can only answer the question ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’” (216). I wonder, for the participationists, how it is possible to find/situate oneself within a specific and contextualized story/history (familial, religious, gender situated, communal)? At the same time, however, integrationists may(?) be more likely (at least in theory) to fall prey to stories that are not “authentic” or “good.” (Certainly people find themselves growing up in and situated in inauthentic and bad traditions; for instance, the KKK). In practicality, though, if we are to combat certain negative forces (poverty, oppression, marginalization, armament, warfare, etc.) in a healthy and communicative way, I must lean toward Benhabib’s proposal for a postconventional Sittlichkeit that is politically participatory (Also see Nancy Fraser’s writings on “participatory parity.”). Society’s current state of (worldwide) deplorable conditions cannot be (significantly) fought from inside the integrationist circles. Democratic participatory politics is better able to confront widespread problems on a legal and generally larger consequential scale.
(The discussion of postconventional Sittlichkeit raises, for me, two concerns: How do we reason with those whom we resolutely disagree? In a world where pluralism prevails, what is/becomes the common experience to reason from?)
A second important issue that Benhabib raises in the introduction is the theme of the public and the private. She expresses concern on behalf of those that have typically been marginalized in public discourse and in public policy, and places some blame on the liberal position of subjective neutrality within the public arena. She writes, “My argument is that the constraint of neutrality illicitly limits the agenda of public conversation and excludes particularly those groups like women and blacks who have not been traditional partners in the liberal dialogue” (12). Like Benhabib, Jaggar also argued against the liberal political theory concerning the public and the private. Jaggar criticizes neutrality not only in terms of gender and race, but also in terms of government regulations and economics (144).
I want to touch here, specifically, on the context of gender. I think that there are structures of gender built-in to the contemporary public sphere. This seems obvious when mentioning, for example, the gender hierarchy that gives men more power in society. Also, this hierarchy is not typically looked at in terms of the private realm where men also tend to have more power. As the public and the private sectors remain theoretically and legally unquestioned, men, in general, continue to have power over women (via the media, mentally, vocationally, politically, and oftentimes culturally) and, in turn, this power-over becomes built-in to society. We ought to be questioning the line (Where is it at? Should there be one? How do women (and others) cross the line? Legally? Illegally?) that divides the public and the private and its epistemological presuppositions and its practical implications.
As women librarians, how do we face and tackle such issues?
Feminist Social Theories. Seyla Benhabib. Situating the Self.
Summary
In Situating the Self: Gender, Community and Postmodernism in Contemporary Ethics, Seyla Benhabib puts forward a thesis that defends the tradition of universalism. She proposes that a post-Enlightenment universalism is feasible and capable of being carried out.
Benhabib begins her introduction to a twenty-first century understanding of universalism by referencing the Greeks and, also, Hegel. The Greeks provide a dual conception of time that allows us to think of the past, present, and future not only in terms of chronology (kronos), but, also, through the expressions of opportunities (kairos). Contrary to Hegel’s notion of philosophy as understanding the world as it is rather than how it should be (Benhabib writes, “[We] are not like the ‘owl of Minerva’ which spreads its wings only at dusk.”), Benhabib suggests that the present symbolic, social, and political situation is our occasion for opportunity. Today’s “postism” world is a world that recognizes the downfalls of the “project of modernity.” For instance, Benhabib writes that there is “an understandable disillusionment with a form of life that still perpetrates war, armament, environmental destruction and economic exploitation at the cost of satisfying basic human needs with human dignity, a form of life that still relegates many women, non-Christian and non-white peoples to second-class moral and political status, a form of life that saps the bases of solidaristic coexistence in the name of profit and competition” (2). Yet, at the same time, the “project of modernity” harbours certain legacies that are worth reconstructing. Benhabib points out that these legacies include “moral and political universalism, committed to the now seemingly ‘old-fashioned’ and suspect ideals of universal respect for each person in virtue of their humanity; the moral autonomy of the individual; economic and social justice and equality; democratic participation; the most extensive civil and political liberties compatible with principles of justice; and the formation of solidaristic human associations” (2).
A post-Enlightenment universalism, Benhabib suggests, is possible via the disenchantment of metaphysical illusions. The metaphysical illusions of the Enlightenment include those of “a self-transparent and self-grounding reason,” “a disembedded and disembodied object,” and “an Archimedean standpoint” (4). Communitarians, feminists, and postmodernists have offered a voice of critique concerning Enlightenment metaphysical illusions. They have spoken against “the claims of a ‘legislating’ reason” to steer morality, and have revealed its inability “to deal with the indeterminacy and multiplicity of contexts and life-situations with which practical reason is always confronted” (3). Benhabib (influenced by Karl-Otto Apel and Jürgen Habermas) proposes that there ought to be a formulation of a postmetaphysical universalist position. She describes the postmetaphysical condition in terms of a continual discourse devoid of (psychologically attributed) “givens;” “It is the discourse of the community of inquirers (Charles Sanders Peirce) which first assigns an evidential or other type of value to aspects of our consciousness or experience, and brings them into play as factors which support our claims to the veracity of our beliefs” (5). She suggests that steps must be taken to formulate post-Enlightenment universalism. First, we must move from a substantialistic understanding of reality “to a discursive, communicative concept of rationality” (5). Second, subjects of reason can no longer be understood as disembodied cogitos (Enlightenment) or as “the continuity of a substance in time” (Empiricism); instead, subjects are individuals whom, through contingent processes, author and act upon and within a world narrative (5). It follows that Benhabib recommends a shift from “legislative to interactive rationality” (6). The moral point of view (like reason) is not a timeless Archimedean standpoint; instead, ethical life should be based on “the contingent achievement of an interactive form of rationality” (6).
Benhabib writes that, “[Her] goal is to situate reason and the moral self more decisively in contexts of gender and community, while insisting upon the discursive power of individuals to challenge such situatedness in the name of universalistic principles, future identities and as yet undiscovered communities” (8). Benhabib proposes that via the exercise of “enlarged thinking” (Hannah Arendt) and moral conversation, the principle of universalizability will look forward to communication and agreement. What is not guaranteed in this model is unanimous consensus. However, what this model does demonstrate is “the will and the readiness to seek understanding with the other and to reach some reasonable agreement in an open-ended moral conversation” (9). To cultivate enlarged thinking though, the identity of the moral self must be reconceptualized against legalistic universalism. Instead of relying on the standpoint of the generalized other, the concrete other must be recognized as a reasoning and acting moral person capable of engaging in and pursuing “the good.” If we are to pursue ethical lives through participatory democracy then it is essential for Benhabib to introduce public discourse in her attempts to uphold universalism. She supports a proceduralist model of the public sphere. In the proceduralist model there does not exist an a priori agenda and the agenda lines can be continually “redrawn by the participants in the conversation” (12). It is here that Benhabib brings up the classic distinction between the public and the private. If we are to talk about public discourse then it is imperative to talk about what constitutes the public sphere, what constitutes the private sphere, and the line dividing the two (historically, classically, presently, and looking toward the future). In particular, feminist thought contributes to questions and critiques concerning the public and the private. Such feminist critique points to other epistemological inclinations in Western rationality. For instance, how we understand difference affects/effects our attitudes and practices in connection with gender issues and marginalization. So, Benhabib is not only concerned with a theoretical endorsement of a post-Enlightenment tradition of universalism; she is concerned with how a post-Enlightenment understanding of universalism is relevant in public and private discourse amongst concrete individuals including the marginalized and in the context of gender (without dismissing the voices of postmodernists that fight against logocentrism, imperialism, and the standards of rationality).
One important theme that Benhabib brings up in the introduction is “postconventional Sittlichkeit.” Like Hegel (in Philosophy of Right), she “envisage[s] a universalistic moral point of view as situated within an ethical community” (11). For our purposes, Sittlichkeit can be understood as referring to “ethical life” in reference to normative morality. Sittlichkeit describes the ethical norms that should guide our everyday practical reasoning. These ethical norms should be dialogical and directly associated with the duties and virtues embedded in central institutions of modern social life (i.e. the family, civil society, and the state). Hegel rejects, for example, Plato and Kant’s notions of Sittlichkeit because “the good life” is both ahistorical and definitively prescriptive in nature. Hegel’s understanding of “the moral point of view” is descriptive and, also, normative. Benhabib’s pursuit for a postconventional Sittlichkeit can be understood via Hegel’s framework. This is important to Benhabib because her understanding of “postconventional” Sittlichkeit is different than the integrationist perspective of certain communitarian thinkers (Michael Sandel and Alasdair ManIntyre). She is concerned that conventional thinkers often become too reliant upon their own particular tradition. She says, “[They] seek to reconstitute community via recouping and reclaiming an integrative vision of fundamental values and principles…” (11). In contrast to integrationists, she supports the participationists because they “envisage such a community as emerging from common action, engagement and debate in the civic and public realms of democratic societies” (11).
On one hand I resonate with integrationist thinkers. For instance, their emphasis upon one’s own tradition (roots) is appealing not only in terms of the psyche but in terms of practical actions (within a given context). In After Virtue, MacIntyre writes, “A central thesis then begins to emerge: man is in his actions and practice, as well as in his fictions, essentially a story-telling animal. He is not essentially, but becomes through his history, a teller of stories that aspire to truth. But the key question for men is not about their own authorship; I can only answer the question ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’” (216). I wonder, for the participationists, how it is possible to find/situate oneself within a specific and contextualized story/history (familial, religious, gender situated, communal)? At the same time, however, integrationists may(?) be more likely (at least in theory) to fall prey to stories that are not “authentic” or “good.” (Certainly people find themselves growing up in and situated in inauthentic and bad traditions; for instance, the KKK). In practicality, though, if we are to combat certain negative forces (poverty, oppression, marginalization, armament, warfare, etc.) in a healthy and communicative way, I must lean toward Benhabib’s proposal for a postconventional Sittlichkeit that is politically participatory (Also see Nancy Fraser’s writings on “participatory parity.”). Society’s current state of (worldwide) deplorable conditions cannot be (significantly) fought from inside the integrationist circles. Democratic participatory politics is better able to confront widespread problems on a legal and generally larger consequential scale.
(The discussion of postconventional Sittlichkeit raises, for me, two concerns: How do we reason with those whom we resolutely disagree? In a world where pluralism prevails, what is/becomes the common experience to reason from?)
A second important issue that Benhabib raises in the introduction is the theme of the public and the private. She expresses concern on behalf of those that have typically been marginalized in public discourse and in public policy, and places some blame on the liberal position of subjective neutrality within the public arena. She writes, “My argument is that the constraint of neutrality illicitly limits the agenda of public conversation and excludes particularly those groups like women and blacks who have not been traditional partners in the liberal dialogue” (12). Like Benhabib, Jaggar also argued against the liberal political theory concerning the public and the private. Jaggar criticizes neutrality not only in terms of gender and race, but also in terms of government regulations and economics (144).
I want to touch here, specifically, on the context of gender. I think that there are structures of gender built-in to the contemporary public sphere. This seems obvious when mentioning, for example, the gender hierarchy that gives men more power in society. Also, this hierarchy is not typically looked at in terms of the private realm where men also tend to have more power. As the public and the private sectors remain theoretically and legally unquestioned, men, in general, continue to have power over women (via the media, mentally, vocationally, politically, and oftentimes culturally) and, in turn, this power-over becomes built-in to society. We ought to be questioning the line (Where is it at? Should there be one? How do women (and others) cross the line? Legally? Illegally?) that divides the public and the private and its epistemological presuppositions and its practical implications.
As women librarians, how do we face and tackle such issues?
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Feminism and Librarians
It's International Women's Day! Yay!
Every year on March 8th, International Women's Day is commemorated worldwide with celebrations of all the women in our lives, as we honour those who have come before us and continue to inspire us. Many women often come together on International Women's Day to discover the social, economic, cultural and political achievements made by women and their ongoing struggles in local communities and around the world. In a time where women's rights are being trampled on by governments and societies worldwide, it is important to demand justice and equity. We must support women's rights worldwide, decent wages & working conditions, peace and stability in our world where the war in Iraq, violence in our communities & violence against women continues, and poverty still remains.
In light of International Women's Day, today, I began to think more about women in the workplace... Specifically women in the institute of the library. Women manke up the majority of librarians; yet, how strong are our voices?
I have always been interested in the idea of women's libraries. In particular, I hope to, one day, visit The Women's Library in London. Not only does The Women's Library house a lot of information on women's history, it also celebrates women through exhibitions and programs.
I think the idea of women celebrating women is important. However, this need not be done solely in our homes or telephone conversations. Women celebrating and supporting women should be a active and vibrant part of our institutions.
As women librarians it is important to ask ourselves questions such as... What is the role of feminism in the institution? How can we propse and support feminist causes in the institution? How can we involve our local libraries in communal and global feminist events and movements?
Although these questions don't jump-out to the reader as intrinsically managerial or administrative, they are interlinked with managerial and administrative policies. They force us (At least consciously) to view our library teams, practices, and goals in lieu of broader philosophical and ethical motivations.
So, I dare repeat, "This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. it should be thrown with great force." (Dorothy Parker)
Every year on March 8th, International Women's Day is commemorated worldwide with celebrations of all the women in our lives, as we honour those who have come before us and continue to inspire us. Many women often come together on International Women's Day to discover the social, economic, cultural and political achievements made by women and their ongoing struggles in local communities and around the world. In a time where women's rights are being trampled on by governments and societies worldwide, it is important to demand justice and equity. We must support women's rights worldwide, decent wages & working conditions, peace and stability in our world where the war in Iraq, violence in our communities & violence against women continues, and poverty still remains.
In light of International Women's Day, today, I began to think more about women in the workplace... Specifically women in the institute of the library. Women manke up the majority of librarians; yet, how strong are our voices?
I have always been interested in the idea of women's libraries. In particular, I hope to, one day, visit The Women's Library in London. Not only does The Women's Library house a lot of information on women's history, it also celebrates women through exhibitions and programs.
I think the idea of women celebrating women is important. However, this need not be done solely in our homes or telephone conversations. Women celebrating and supporting women should be a active and vibrant part of our institutions.
As women librarians it is important to ask ourselves questions such as... What is the role of feminism in the institution? How can we propse and support feminist causes in the institution? How can we involve our local libraries in communal and global feminist events and movements?
Although these questions don't jump-out to the reader as intrinsically managerial or administrative, they are interlinked with managerial and administrative policies. They force us (At least consciously) to view our library teams, practices, and goals in lieu of broader philosophical and ethical motivations.
So, I dare repeat, "This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. it should be thrown with great force." (Dorothy Parker)
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