Old books are our kindred spirits

There is nothing like walking into a bookshop you have never seen before. 


You give it a double-take when you first walk by and furrow your brow as you insist against your argumentative brain that you have never, ever seen it before. You wonder if it has opened up for business recently, but by observing the poor condition of the signage on its window front you accept that there is no way it could have opened in the last week, or month, or decade for that matter. You shrug off the confusion and smirk a little, anticipating the joy you are about to feel as soon as you step inside.

You tug at the wooden door handle and pull it open. The wood has worn down where people have touched it to enter the store. This, too, is perplexing--how is it possible that any number of people have walked through this door and you hadn't even known about its existence.

You step inside. The aroma of vanilla and incense wafts in your direction. There is a haze about the space, and you notice it is dust. The dust of the characters who have galloped away from from castles in search for their adventure, the dust which is blown of old treasure chests by pirates and gypsies alike, the dust that Victorian bourgeoisie despise in Parisian salons -- this dust is familiar to you, and yet you know not how.

There is an aged man sitting behind the cashier at the far left corner of the store. His circular spectacles have slid down his nose - indeed assisting the myopia of his experienced eyes. His hair is greyed, his puce coloured overalls have dulled due to being thrown into the wash one too many times. He wears an expression of puzzlement: he is consumed by the literature he holds in front of him. He has not looked up since you have entered. He has not sensed your presence. He is not concerned with the world outside the pages of his book.

You watch his expression alter with every page he turns and chuckle. You see yourself in him. You recognize the immersion he displays. You know he is reading one damned fine piece of writing. If only you could ask what it was.

Third World Girls

"'We know for a fact that an investment in girls is the best anti-poverty measure that we can choose,' said Jo Scheuer, co-ordinator of disaster risk reduction with the United Nations Development Program."

BEN DEPP / PLAN INTERNATIONAL

This was taken from an article that was posted in the Toronto Star today, which discussed the ways girls and women are indiscriminately maltreated during times of natural disaster in developing countries. The facts were appalling. The statistics were stunning. "Girls are 14 times more likely to die in a natural disaster" than boys and men. When parents are given the choice between saving their daughters or sons in times of strife, floods and food scarcity, they choose their sons as it is these heirs that will maintain the bloodlines of the families. Their daughters are abandoned and left for dead. 

Girls are susceptible to early pregnancies, to rape, to prostitution and death in the time following national emergencies and village disasters. They are vulnerable and seeking shelter, food and warmth, and so, turn to those who offer aid, no matter what the form of aid appears in. If money or food are to come of selling their bodies, they are pushed back into a corner that offers little room for recourse. 

Please read this: Toronto Star: Why girls are 14 times more likely to die in a natural disaster. Support Plan Canada. Read the literature that Because I Am A Girl has to offer. 

Women are immaculate. Women are resilient. Women are powerful beyond measure. Far too often are we hidden in nooks and crannies around the world and forced to submit to the requests of those who offer crude and unwarranted "aid", simply because we are not offered it from any other source. Let's change this.

Let's get out there!

There are thousands of us around the world. We practically make up our own demographic. We can be studied, we can be squeezed into a mere statistic, our prospects can be stipulated. We are the unemployed, twenty-somethings.

We were promised the best education Canada has to offer. We were told that after acquiring a university degree the world would be our oyster. We were, or at least, I was, encouraged to choose a university instead of a college by my high school teachers. College was stigmatized. The girls (I went to a Catholic, all-girl high school) who skipped out on classes and hung outside smoking cigarettes and weed chose colleges. Those girls are now well on their way to obtaining full-time jobs. We, on the other hand, are well on our way to writing our hearts out on blogs like these, contacting charities and agencies who are looking for volunteers, and hoping, mightily hoping, that someone, somewhere will notice our potential and scoop us out of the misery of unemployment.

I have applied for jobs in the retail industry, jobs for reception, administrative assistants, entry-level-anything, everywhere. To no avail. Because I am an intern from 9-5 for three days a week, I am unemployable. I would not trade the skills I am gaining for any administrative assistant positions. It is providing me with a solid foundation to demonstrate the best of my skills, and for that I am remarkably lucky.

However, for those who have not landed an internship, who cannot afford to go back to school, and are regrettably unemployed, there is hope for you and it comes in the form of philanthropy.

There are associations, foundations, clubs, charities and NGOs all over the globe that are seeking people like us--people who have copious amounts of energy to employ and no one to give us the shot. Whether it be assisting those who courageously defend the decrepit state of the environment, those who defend the rights of women internationally, or those who are concerned about the homeless men in your municipality, they want us. They are looking for us. Of course, it won't rack in the dough, but it will fulfil us in ways we might not have completely been aware of before. We will be learning about diplomacy, solidarity, pragmatism, development, government assistance (or lackthereof) and will be able to help those that need it as well as ourselves. We might even make a connection with someone who is looking for an employee just like us. 

Who knows. What I'm saying is, we might as well step outside and help out where we can instead of pity ourselves in the bleakness of our rooms.

I live in the fabulous, vibrant city of Toronto. If you do too, here are some associations who are regularly looking for volunteers, and could use someone like you:

UNWomen Canada

Free Them - For Freedom Sake

UNICEF Canada

USC Canada

Canada World Youth

Crossroads International

For more information about NGOs in your city, check out Foreign Affairs, Trade and International Development Canada and Charity Village.

Good luck!