Fifty shades of whiteness...

Okay, disclaimer: this is going to be a bit lot of a ramble. I'm going to say things that some people will not agree with, and that's okay. Ideas of racial and cultural identity are complicated, and I don't pretend to have the answers. But I'm hoping that one day I'll be vaguely on the right track. Here goes...

I am biracial. You can call me Eurasian, if that label appeals to you more. My mother is Chinese, born in Malaysia, where her family has lived for a number of generations. My father was born in Australia, where his family has lived for a number of generations, a descendant of Irish immigrants. His ethnic identity is... um, let's come back to that later.

Anyway, I was born and raised in Australia. Race was something that I was aware of, growing up in school. I remember singing, "I am, you are, we are Australian" in primary school - after all, we were one, but we were many, and from all the lands on Earth we came. We shared a dream, and sang with one voice.

Except that we didn't. In the school yard, there was the usual multicultural mix of Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, Greek, Italian, Turkish, Egyptian, Lebanese... and then you had the "Aussies". The "white" kids.

So, as a kid, I described myself as half-Chinese. The other half, being "Aussie" from my dad's side was assumed.

The 90s saw the rise of such visionaries as Pauline Hanson and the One Nation party. I don't know if it was out of shame of my Chinese heritage, or just that I didn't want people putting me in a box, but I realised that I needed to claim my Australian identity, otherwise other people would take it away from my. So, for a long time, I insisted that I was Australian - born and raised here - and whatever genetics my parents added to the mix had no bearing on who I was as a person. That's how I felt for a long time.

That is, until I lived in Japan and, later, Vietnamese. Despite my Asian genetics, I was a gaijin - a white person - and that other W-word - "Western". My frustration grew when Japanese and Vietnamese people asked questions about the culture of "white people" and "Westerners" - like we were just one race of people who all looked the same, in much the same way that Pauline Hanson might have viewed Asians in general. And then they would ask about "Australian culture". To this day, I still have difficulty in describing exactly what Australian culture is. We're still a very young country, and have hardly been around to really establish some kind of National identity - and no, it wasn't born on the shores of Gallipoli.

I wasn't sure how to feel about having this "whiteness" thrust upon me. Especially when I think about the recent rallies across Australia where those against multiculturalism want to "Reclaim Australia". The thing is, when I think of the cultural diversity that our immigrant population has to offer, what does "white Australia" have to offer, other than cooking snags on the BBQ, downing tinnies of VB, and drunkenly shouting at people whilst wearing the Australian flag as a cape? What could be more Aussie than that?

Which brings me to libraries. Yep, I'm great at segues.

I recently read a really interesting article entitled, "Soliciting Performance, Hiding Bias: Whiteness and Librarianship". I absolutely agree that the mainstream ideas of libraries have been based on American and European models of learning and knowledge-sharing, which often reflects values of the privileged educated middle-class. And that the bulk of librarians, having been raised under such conditions continue to reinforce many of these attitudes, particularly when hiring staff. In doing so, they "paralyse" themselves, as they do not represent the diversity and cannot truly empathise with the needs of the communities that they serve.

The author epitomises this as "whiteness", defined as "white, heterosexual, capitalist and middle class"... the "ideology based on beliefs, value behaviors, habits and attitudes, which result in the unequal distribution of power and privilege". These lead to "gestures, enactments, and unconsciously repetitive acts which reinforce hegemony."

And yes, I can agree that libraries have been traditionally a tool for the privileged, and you can judge how privileged and middle-class a community is just by walking into their public library. I've worked in libraries in Darwin where plenty of indigenous people see it as "whitefellas" business - probably because they're mostly staffed by non-indigenous people, and full of books in English. I've seen and heard of libraries set up in the Pacific, organised using Dewey Decimal Classification, and bounded by strict rules, because those were the rules set by those who established the libraries, unfortunately incompatible with local knowledge systems and ways of thinking.

Call it privilege, or colonialism, or plain old-fashioned-ness. But "whiteness"? Something doesn't sit right with me about that. It's more complicated than that.

That's not to say that white privilege doesn't exist - it totally does. And maybe that's enough to validate this case for "whiteness" in libraries. But to me, it doesn't hold that much meaning. Maybe I'm blinded by the "white" privilege that I at least partially possess, and I need to be a "real" person-of-colour to truly appreciate the extent to which "whiteness" has paralysed libraries.

But one final thing that I find interesting from this article is the idea of libraries being neutral, which thus situates white as default, and in doing so supports white cultural values. In the same way, I feel like the moment that Australian identity shifts to truly embrace multiculturalism, then it's that neutrality of whiteness that is eradicated. And that scares people. I get that. I've been constantly denied part of my cultural identity all my life. It's confusing.

So, when people ask me about my ethnic identity these days, I say that I was born in Australia, descendant from Chinese and Irish immigrants. You can do with that information what you will.

M is for Monday

M is for Monday. The start of a new week. M is also for momentum, of which I am currently lacking, and I need to get the ball rolling. To kick-start my brain this morning, M is also for Meme.

This meme was started by Kate, and following Fiona's tradition of the Monday Meme, I thought I'd join in:

I’m reading – Just finished "Guardian of the Dead" by Karen Healey. Loved it. Now I've just picked up "As stars fall" by Christie Nieman, who is a former work colleague. And the cover is exquisite - immediately evocative and haunting. Ever since I lived in Darwin, something has always creeped me out about curlews...

I’m watching – The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. I'm loving it, actually. It's exceedingly charming, funny and silly, yet subtly smart and cleverly written, as only something written by Tina Fey could be.

I’m cooking – Not as often as I should. Vietnam broke me out of the pattern, because eating local street food was infinitely easier and cheaper (and more delicious) than cooking myself. Now that I'm living alone, I'm yet again less inclined to cook, and eating out is still cheap. To be honest, I usually only cook if I have guests and have somebody else to cook for.

I’m drinking – Sabaja Smoked Porter. This is one of the offerings of Pristina's local (and only) craft brewery. They also make a tasty IPA, but this is my favourite:

I’m thinking – about the future. What to blog next. Where I want to travel to. Where I have friends relatively nearby who I can meet up with. Where my career is going, and how to get there. And always thinking about ideas for writing. Sometimes I even write them down.

I’m taking – one step at a time. deep breathes. notes. drugs to help me sleep at night.

I’m missing – dancing. friends. having a comfortable familiar space.

I’m enjoying – the adventure of being out of my comfort zone, both professionally and geographically. There's always something new to do around the corner.

I’m planning – travel. Macedonia (and teaching swing dancing!) next weekend. Prague (with more swing dancing) the long weekend afterward. Otherwise, making lists of places to visit over the summer.

I’m listening – to recordings of Tibetan singing bowls. They also help me sleep at night.

Pristina nightlife

For its comparatively small size, Pristina is a lively city, and this is evident just from looking around town from the moment work finishes through until the early hours of the morning.

Now that winter has well and truly passed, many of the bars have courtyards filled with people, and all along Nene Tereza boulevard, the restaurants are set up for al fresco dining. It's a sociable, but civil, affair, with a macchiato being as common as a beer or glass of wine - coffee being as much the social lubricant as alcohol in the local culture.

Once the sun has finally set, it's approaching 9pm, and the temperature begins to drop a little. For the more traditional continuation into the night, there are a number of rakija bars (I will explain rakija in another post), where you'll see a blend of local young people, and older Albanian men. However, at the same time, there are a number of hip modern places - two of my favourites being Dit' e Nat' (Albanian for "Day and Night") and Soma Book Station.

Both of these are unique in that they are cafe/bars that are also bookstores (or are they bookstores that are also cafe / bars?). They often hold performances by bands - both local and visiting - and attract the closest thing to what you might call the local hipster community. I'll often see posters advertising local creative startups and cultural festivals, and I'll often see young people set up with their laptops and notebooks, sipping their coffees or local craft beers whilst working on some creative endeavour. And so, I quite like both of these places - not just because they most remind me of my home town of Melbourne - but also because they provide unique creative spaces in the community. Also, it's dangerous to have books for sale in a place where I might have a few drinks, and lose my inhibitions...

Soma Book Station

On the other hand, if what you're after is a smoky bar with DJs playing latin music, then the Cuban Bar is the place to be on a Friday or Saturday night - especially if you've got some salsa moves. Personally, I know enough basic moves to dance salsa if absolutely necessary, but it's no substitute for a good swing-out.

Finally, once the midnight hour is upon us, it's time to make a choice. With the onset of my middle-age, I must confess that I'm usually in bed by midnight, or 1am at the latest. However, on one occasion, I'd had more than my daily quota of espressos, and was ready to push through into the darkest hours of the night. In this case, we ended up at an extremely smokey underground bar called Zanzi. There was quite a good cover band, ripping out some power anthems to an appreciative crowd, and then some DJs of varying quality. Entry was free for the women (and 3 Euro for the men) and looking around, I could see why. By 2am, it was 98% men bopping along on the dance floor (plus the 3-4 women that I'd arrived with). I've been told that this is just part of the local culture - and whilst I made the observation that it seemed far more progressive for women here, who seemed quite liberated in their dress sense, here was an indication that there are still conservative social attitudes where women don't stay out late. Either that, or we were at a particularly crappy dive spot that women just didn't want to go to!

Eventually, the DJ started playing some pretty obnoxious techno (still not as bad as Vietnamese house though!) and we used that as an excuse to leave. I arrived home at about 3:30am, and, smelling like an ashtray, put all of my clothes straight into the laundry, and made a mental note to wash my hair in the morning.

The next morning, I woke to find that I'd spent more money than I planned, but on the plus side, I had a new impulse-buy novel to add to my bookshelf.

Taking the weekend off.

Living and working overseas can be exhausting.

When I'm living back in Melbourne, it's relatively easy to fall into patterns. I go to work, I have my various hobbies, and my social circle manages to fill the rest of the gaps pretty much without having to think too much. And if there's nothing happening, then I can just enjoy a book or watch tv or something, and not feel too bad about it.

But it's different when you're overseas. On one hand, there are the everyday challenges - trying to learn the language, learn a new job, make new friends, seek out opportunities for socialising without seeming too weird and needy. And that's just part of being a new person in a new place - you have to get up to speed before this little voice starts piping up in the back of your head...

Then there's the FOMO - fear of missing out. Taking every opportunity to make the most of my experience of living overseas. Travelling to another country each weekend, finding out where the local festivals are happening, or even just taking a day trip to a nearby heritage site.

I always feel like a day of doing nothing is a day wasted.

But at the same time, I realise that it's important to take time off constantly trying to push myself forward toward winning at life. And because I've got two big weekends coming up, I've decided to take this weekend off.

And so, my day consisted of:

- Sleeping in until 11am. I've had terrible insomnia lately, so I figured I'd let myself get a full cycle of sleep, even though I hope that changing my usual waking-up time won't make things worse.
- Going on a long walk. I discovered a small amusement park, and a couple of nice parks for walking through. I also saw my first hedgehog - not something I'd experienced before, having only ever previously lived in the Asia-Pacific region.
- Going to the cinema. Saw Pitch Perfect 2, which had its fun moments, but lacked a lot of the charm of its predecessor.
- Sitting in a cafe and read a sizeable chunk of the book that I'm currently reading.
- Writing my daily #blogjune entry.

Now it's Saturday night, and I'm going to bed at a respectable hour. With some luck, I'll be asleep by midnight. Yes, it's boring, I know, but I'll get back to my usual shenanigans next week.

For now, I'll let myself recharge.

How did I get here?

Now, since I'm participating in #blogjune, and the majority of participants are those working in the library and information industry, I thought I'd share a little on how I came to be where I am.

Firstly, one of the things that attracted me to this profession is the scope of work that I could potentially be doing. When undergoing my masters, we learn a range of library-specific skills, but more importantly, underlying all of these are professional principles of information management - which, of course, are essential in libraries, but they are also kind of essential in any work environment, regardless of whether they have a traditional library or not! And yes, all professionals have their own ways of managing their information and knowledge, but organisations often need somebody to coordinate this so that information and knowledge can be shared through a system that is compatible with all of its workers. Given the human element involved in the personal management practices of many staff, this is no mean feat.

So, as a professional, once you've established a strong knowledge of information principles, the opportunities for work are limited only by your imagination, your contextual knowledge of a particular industry, and the human resources budget of your prospective employer (and this is a major factor!).

So, given that you've done the professional groundwork (i.e. qualification and fundamental experience), how do you get the specialist experience to get to the interesting stuff?

Do you remember those word puzzles, where you change one letter at a time?

Source: http://www.powgi.com/puzzle/2015-03-02.png

Yes, there is the traditional career path of getting a job, and then doing your supervisor's job, and so on, moving up the hierarchy, and certainly, my career did start out that way:

Public Library Officer

Public Library Technician

Public Librarian

Public Library Team Leader

But it's once you start replacing some of the elements and completely changing work environments, whilst progressively developing skills, your career starts taking a completely different pathway - one that doesn't always seem organic at first glance:

Reference Librarian - State Library

Reader Development Programs Officer - State Library

Secondary School Library Manager

Community Development Librarian - Public Library
(Including partnership programs with schools/community and local history projects)

Librarian Trainer for a health library in regional PNG

Information Manager for a museum in regional PNG

Museum Programs Development Officer with museums in regional Vietnam

Knowledge manager for a cultural heritage / human rights NGO in Vietnam

Information Management Officer for a high profile international organisation in Kosovo

There are times where I feel like I'm following a winding path up a mountain, in the hope that there's a way down on the other side. It's hard work at times, but right now, the view is spectacular.

Get out of town...

Day three at work, and it was already Friday. Had I thought about what I was going to do on the weekend? Of course not! I had barely settled into my apartment, and despite my best efforts to adjust my sleeping patterns, my body was still off by something between 4 and 8 hours.

Fortunately, being the new guy at work, one of my colleagues invited me to join him and a couple of others on a day trip to Peja / Peć to visit a monastery and then go to a waterfall. I most graciously accepted.

Now, I'd only been in Pristina for three days, but after spending many months living in the big smoke of Hanoi, travelling to the neon jungle of Seoul, and then hipster central in Melbourne, it was quite refreshing to be sitting in a car for a couple of hours, staring out at rolling green hills, framed with jagged snow-capped mountains. As an Australian, unfamiliar with this landscape, I don't I'll ever bore of it.

Anyway, we passed through the city of Peja / Peć and to the UNESCO World Heritage site of the Monastery of the Patriarchate of Peć. This site was the seat of the Serbian Orthodox Church from the 14th century, though it sustained substantial damage during the Ottoman rule. As an important Serbian cultural heritage site located within Kosovo, and given the ethnic tensions that still remain since the Kosovo War, measures have been made to keep the site secure with guarded checkpoints at the entrance, requiring our ID to enter the site.

But stepping through the gates, into the walled grounds, it was like stepping into another world...

The interior of church itself was beautiful as well, and there's nothing like 600-year-old medieval frescos to transport oneself to another time. With the beautiful sunny spring weather, with a cool fresh breeze coming off the mountains, we didn't want to leave.

And then it was lunchtime.

After lunch, we headed up toward the mountains and visited a waterfall. I took some photos, but next to the above photo, it looks kinda dull. However, Peć is also the gateway to the Rugova mountains, part of the Albanian Alps, and I made a mental note that I definitely needed to return for some bushwalking in the future.

So, less than a week in Kosovo, and I already had a glimpse of what the region does best (other than coffee) - medieval monasteries and majestic mountains!

Driving on the wrong side of the road...

So, during my interview for this job, the subject of driving came up - firstly, and seemingly most importantly, if I could drive a manual car, which I confidently said, "Yes". Because it was true.

The next question: "Hmm... you're from Australia? You'd be used to driving on the left side of the road, right? How are you with the right side, considering that the traffic in Kosovo can also be a little unpredictable." I replied that I'd was used to the right side of the road here in Hanoi, and that I doubted that the traffic would be any crazier than it was here. Also true.

That said, I may have neglected to mention that I was used to driving a bike on the right side of the road, and that I might have some trouble driving under such conditions in, say, a large Toyota 4WD.

Flash-forward to Day Two on the job, and I've been booked in for my driving exam - and I'm presented with a large Toyota 4WD. Possibly the largest vehicle that I have driven, like, ever. And my first task is to reverse park in between two tiny traffic cones (which promptly disappeared once I was within a metre of the space). I had three goes to get it right. Somehow I succeeded on my second go, which meant that I was clear to proceed to stage two: the streets.

So, I had been mentally preparing myself for this moment for 24 hours, and there were a number of rules going through my head.

1. Stay on the left right side of the road.
2. Pedals are the same as usual.
3. Change gears with my right hand (not my left).
4. Indicate with my left hand (not my right).
5. Overtake on the left (not the right).

With all this in excellent espresso-fueled mind, I was ready to hit the fury road!

I will ride eternal, shiny and chrome.

However, my course wasn't so much the Fury Road as it was a series of confusing slow-paced obstacles, so my driving probably came across more like this:

On the plus side, I managed to avoid stalling the car, or opening the car door when I meant to change gears.

Unfortunately, there were a few unfortunate moments:

1. Pedestrian crossings. Firstly, we're actually meant to stop for these - as we are in Australia, but not in Vietnam. At least not that I'm aware of. However, the presence of a pedestrian crossing every 50-100 metres presents the dilemma of either taking twice as long to get to one's destination, or maintaining just the right amount of aggressive velocity to discourage a pedestrian from wanting to step out in front of you, whilst also travelling slow enough to stop if they DO step out onto the crossing.

2. Left-hand turns. Whilst right-hand turns are easy, left-hand turns turned out to be terrifying. Again, my risk-aversion meant that I missed a few windows-of-opportunity to turn. Also, remember to stay on the right.

3. Allowing enough space. As it turns out, drivers in Pristina are accustomed to only allowing an inch more than absolutely necessary when passing one another in a tight spot. I, on the other hand, am not.

4. Three-lane roundabouts. Seriously, what the hell? Apparently there are rules for which lane you're meant to be in, depending on where you plan to exit the roundabout, which results in traffic zooming between lanes whilst within the roundabout. Plus I'm meant to indicate when changing lanes. I think I'd rather a life of hook turns, and navigating the Elizabeth Street Roundabout of Death over this.

So, at the end of my test, my examiner paused for about 20 seconds, which felt like they lasted forever. He didn't explicitly tell me that I'd failed, but suggested that I get a few hours' practice driving on Pristina's streets, and then come back to him, and he seemed confident that this would be no problem once I'd built up some familiarity.

I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Fortunately, I wouldn't need to do the reverse parking test again.

Two weeks (and half a dozen hours of driving) later, I met up with my examiner again, and passed with flying colours with one accidental curb-bump which he chose to overlook.