This morning as I was headed to the kitchen to prepare a late breakfast for my family I stopped for a moment to catch a particularly compelling bit of news on an international news channel. There was this looping reel of footage that kept showing the body of a tiny girl wrapped in a white sheet. She was dead after having been brutally raped by two men who had kidnapped her. This footage also showed the poor girl’s shell shocked parents. Their grief was palpable.
This is why I don’t watch the news.
According to the news report, the kidnapping and rape of young women is nearly epidemic in India which is second only to the United States. The reporter interviewed young women on the streets of India regarding the recent passage of laws that would mete out severe punishments to any man convicted of rape. This was all complicated by the fact that the numbers of women who are actually willing to report the crime are minimal due to the shame of having been the victim of such a crime. Yes, the victim is shamed and blamed. The perpetrator? Not so much. This is misogyny at its worse, when it is woven into the very fabric of the culture. It is sad, unjust, and plain horrific.
This is why I don’t watch the news.
But, just so we don’t point blaming fingers at India, or some country in the Middle East, or any other so-called third world country we’d like to pretend is so much less progressive than we are in the West, misogynistic ideals and a whole host of other cross-cultural cross-societal ills is as broad and diverse as the people who uphold and abide by them.
It doesn’t matter the country or culture because people are people, and not all of us are good. And of those of us who are good, not all of us are completely good. Simply, we live in a world of mostly good intentioned people, but amongst those good people is another more insidious element that we should all be afraid of. They are there. We don’t know who they are but, we work with them and go to school with them and we talk to them while waiting in line at the register.
Why don’t I watch the news?
Because it makes me angry, and because it scares and saddens me. Watching the news makes me lose faith in the world and the people in it. And, I’ll sound a little Sybil-ish here, it also gives me a tiny bit of weird hope. In our ever shrinking global community we are learning more and more about each other and as such we are slowly eliminating misconceptions about people who are different from us. We are sharing the best of ourselves and hopefully doing away with the worst. As long as there is an Earth with people living on her face, we will see ugliness and injustice and error, but things can be better, right? This is my hope.
This also brings me to the topic of my writing. My major WIP, Bilqis, which will be book one of the Hinterland Chronicles, echoes much of my woes about the state of the world we live in, personal and global.
I am fortunate to have had extremely few openly racist or anti-Muslim experiences in my life. I’ve had people say some incredibly asinine things to me, but I’m not hypersensitive and I can generally determine the difference between malice and ignorance. With that said, we all know that racism still exists and anti-Muslim sentiment is pervasive and in many instances heartily accepted. This is what the Hinterland Chronicles addresses.
What I’ve attempted to create is a world/society that is scarred by religious turmoil and racism, much like our own. Imagine that the government, with the best of intentions, has tried to solve the issue of religious and racial divisiveness by outlawing the practice of any faith. Imagine that those people who persist in religious observances are punished, ostracized, and ejected from the major cities. Imagine that they are forced to make their lives scavenging off the land which is a vast wasteland.
What do you think would happen?
I’m still working on the first draft, but it is difficult to write about issues of faith/religion without sounding as if I am preaching and proselytizing, which I am not. I pray that I am successful.
We should absolutely mine information from our experiences and the world for our writing. This includes the news. I suppose I’m simply not strong enough to tolerate it… or to say it in a more forgiving way, I’m too sensitive. On second thought, it isn’t an altogether bad thing is it? Aren’t most writers and artists intuitive deep thinking individuals?
If they’re not… shhh. Don’t ruin the illusion. I kind of like it.