Dystopias R Us?

Earlier this year, I claimed to have reread my all-time favorite, Fahrenheit 451. But the fact is, I did no such thing.

Let me be clear: I began my reread, and I got halfway through the book. The reason I posted about finishing that reread is because I thought for sure that I would be done with it by the time the post went live. The reason I didn't finish my reread--and still have not, all these months later--is slightly more complicated.

The thing is, even my beloved book is tainted at the moment. We're living in a world where our President is allowed to get away with almost anything, from arbitrarily revoking press passes to refusing to hold a so-called ally accountable for a despicable murder, from blaming California for its own deadly fires to skipping out on ceremonies commemorating World War I. I could go on, but I think I don't need to, as you've all lived through the same issues.

America, I'm sad to say, feels like it's turning into a dystopia. At the very least, it's become a sideshow laughingstock. And when you see this sort of tarnishing firsthand, it's so tough to continue reading about it on the page; fiction becomes too factual to stomach.

I realize this is a bleak outlook, and I hope to feel better about the world soon. In order for that to happen, though, we have to pull together as a country and demand better of our leaders. A bit of that did happen earlier this month, when voters (including myself) raised their voices at the polls and elected many new Representatives, governors, and other officials to displace those currently in power. If this new group of lawmakers can band together and effect some positive change, I'll be glad. 

In the meantime, I continue to resist, and I encourage you to do the same.

-Cate-

The Way I Resist

As you might imagine, I've been thinking about politics a great deal lately. 

20 January was an interesting day, for America and for the world. Since that time, the word that's come to mind the most since then is shitshow. I won't even bother listing off the offenses committed by the executive and legislative branches of the government, because it's too depressing and many others have already offered their commentary.

But I will tell you a story about how these past seven months have affected me.

When I broke my book ban, I broke it hard, because my method of helping the world is through reading. Stick with me on this: educating myself about the past, present, and future seem to be the best way I can arm myself to fight the good fight.

During the week after Election Day, I was surrounded by people who were honestly, gut-wrenchingly terrified of what the future might hold for them and their loved ones. And I won't lie: I was scared, too. I remain trepidatious. My focus at that time, though, was on those others, most of whom weren't in a position to put up their dukes, as it were.

One night, I found myself at a bookstore. Though my aim was to find something my brother might like to read--I was in Christmas-shopping mode--I got angrier and angrier the more I saw headlines and magazine covers dissecting anything they could about the election. This was not the America I had been promised. At that moment, it wasn't even one I recognized.

So I marched myself to the history section, and that's where the rampage started.

By the time I was done, my pile of tomes was six high, and I practically dared the cashier to fight me when I rolled up to her register with a scowl on my face and flint in my gaze. She didn't make any comments, however; she simply did her job, and I rolled back into my apartment that night well over a hundred dollars poorer but--I hoped--soon to be richer for my pains.

Due to time constraints and my tendency to slack, I haven't made it through this cavalcade of books, and of course I've made more purchases since that night. Yet I haven't abandoned my self-set task. As often as possible, I make attempts to bring myself up-to-date with the latest disaster reports, and there have been many. And I spread my knowledge when and where I'm able.

Maybe I'm affecting people when I tell them some anecdote or other, or maybe I'm not. But at least I'm trying, and I will continue to resist.

-Cate-

Historical Preseveration

When I was in elementary school, our curriculum included educational role playing simulations, which is a fancy way of saying that we, unruly children that we were, pretended to be historical figures in the name of learning. One of these programs was about the American Revolution generally, and about the Continental Congress and other such important developments more specifically. The other was a slice of Michigan history featuring Père Marquette, Antoine Cadillac, and others. 

While these activities primed me to appreciate the intricacies of nation-building and the great American experiment, they didn't prepare me for the reality.

For example, no one told me that a man who essentially lied his way into respectability and power--Cadillac--could become such an essential figure in the development of North America as we now know it, and today, I'm facing down the fact that a charlatan holds the highest office in the land. Nor did they delve into the reasons why there were so few female roles for the girls to play; we just had to accept that the men ran the show.

This is part of why I'm so adamant about reading books and exploring historical topics as an adult: it's important for me to find the facts that were left out of the lessons I learned as a child. Especially in this uncertain and tumultuous age, I can't possibly stress the importance of this enough. Go out. Read a book. Learn something. 

It just might save us.

-Cate-