La mejor manera de pasar un cumpleaños

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Hoy ha sido un día de grandes satisfacciones. Empecé el día al lado de mi bebé que me regalaba sonrisas al tiempo que se tomaba su biberón. Un poco después se nos unió mi esposa que me dio dos excelentes regalos… de esos que se nota que fueron pensados específicamente en ti. Durante el día he recibido una infinidad de muestras de cariño de familiares, compañeros y amigos que se tomaron el tiempo para mandarme un mensaje o llamarme. También tuve una mañana muy productiva en la oficina sacando pendientes importantes antes de cerrar el año. De verdad, un gran GRAN día.

Pero les quiero platicar muy brevemente de otra cosa que hice el día de hoy… y se los platico no con las intenciones de proyectarme magnánimo ni mucho menos. Si les comento de esta experiencia, es sólo porque obtuve de ella TANTO, que me parece egoísta no compartirla invitando a que ustedes consideren hacer algo similar en su cumpleaños. Por lo pronto, yo pretendo hacerlo una tradición en el mío.

Anoche reflexionaba acerca del hecho de que en este año he recibido mucho de muchas personas y del tiempo que he podido pasar alrededor de la gente que quiero y haciendo las cosas que me gustan. Ha sido un año sumamente gratificante en todos los sentidos. Guardar tanta gratitud en una sola persona es muy difícil así que anoche decidí que dedicaría una parte de mi cumpleaños a dar, aunque fuese un mínimo detalle y en poco tiempo.

Después de comer con compañeros de la oficina y de sacar algunos pendientes, fui a una pastelería y compré un montón de bolsas de pequeñas hojarascas. Un poco antes de las 3:30 de la tarde llegué al Hospital San José (lugar en donde varios familiares y amigos han sido atendidos) y me dirigí a la sala de espera de la Unidad de Cuidados Intensivos. Ahí, en distintos y pequeños grupos, había alrededor de 25 personas, en espera por obtener noticias de sus seres queridos que estaban siendo atendidos.

De manera respetuosa y tratando de ser lo menos intrusivo posible, fui visitando a cada una de estas personas, a quienes ofrecí las galletas como regalo y les di palabras de aliento, deseando la próxima recuperación de sus pacientes. Pasé tan sólo alrededor de una hora con ellos, pero quiero decirles que fue un momento INCREÍBLE. Todas las personas ahí me mostraron enorme gratitud por lo que no era más que un pequeño detalle… algunas estaban confundidas y me veían inicialmente de manera incrédula. Otras me preguntaban por mis familiares y me deseaban que ellos también mejoraran, sorprendiéndose aún más al aprender que afortunadamente ningún familiar mío estaba internado. Recibí bendiciones, palabras de agradecimiento y una señora mayor, con la que estuve platicando un rato más que con los demás, me felicitó y me dijo que hacía mucho que no veía una acción desinteresada de una persona a otra. Realmente me llegó al corazón y me hizo reflexionar BASTANTE sobre la necesidad que tenemos de rescatar el sentido cívico en nuestra comunidad. Me preguntó por qué lo hacía y al explicarle que era algo que había querido hacer para festejar mi cumpleaños, la señora (a pesar de lo que a su edad esto significaba en esfuerzo) se paró de su lugar y me regaló un abrazo.

Es evidente que nuestras acciones individuales no necesariamente resuelven los grandes problemas que aquejan a nuestra sociedad pero es muy fácil olvidar que la gente que nos rodea, a veces no necesita que les resolvamos esos problemas. A veces una sonrisa, un abrazo o un pequeño detalle son suficientes para volver a depositar la esperanza en aquellos que pueden haberla momentáneamente extraviado. A veces la gente sólo necesita una mirada empática… y eso, no cuesta nada.

Mis mejores deseos a todos ustedes. Que tengan un 2015 lleno de satisfacción, de grandes logros y de muchas razones para sentirse orgullosos y agradecidos. Que sea un año en que avancemos como sociedad y nos acerquemos de nuevo a lo que debería de ser una comunidad.

Con cariño y respeto,

Arjan

P.S. En este blog y a través de mis redes sociales el día de hoy compartí una serie de ligas a organizaciones cuyo trabajo considero valioso. Muchas gracias a quieres se sumaron al proyecto y las han apoyado el día de hoy. Si todavía no lo hacen, por favor consideren la información contenida aquí.

It’s my birthday so please… Give a little bit.

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Today, December 30th, is my birthday. Happy birthday to me. This year, I want to try to make the day count so please, if you can, indulge me on my very special day by giving a little bit.

Your generosity would be my greatest birthday gift and I would be extremely thankful if you could take a couple of minutes to consider donating to one of the following organizations/causes:

VOLUNTARY DONATIONS (These are organizations I’ve either donated to, worked with and/or know well enough to trust. Their work is really valuable and worthy of your generosity)

FREE DONATIONS (All you have to do is CLICK and companies will donate for you)

Since I do not monitor traffic to any of these sites, there will be no way for me to know if you donated to them or not but in all truth, me knowing about it is not the objective so I’m ok with that. But hopefully you were able to take 2 minutes of your time on my birthday and through small but significant actions, help make a change.

Want to do more? Tell your friends about this project! Invite them to participate!

Happy birthday to me and thanks!

 

Why I Wasn’t a Fat Kid in Mexico

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Originally published by Americas Quarterly on Nov. 27th, 2014.

I grew up in Manzanillo and Monterrey, two Mexican cities that are opposites in many ways. Manzanillo is on the southwest coast of Mexico; Monterrey is in the dry northeastern desert. Manzanillo is a small town; Monterrey is one of the country’s most important urban industrial centers. In Manzanillo, people are laid back and relaxed, whereas Monterrey’s citizens are famous for being laborious, high-strung and dynamic.

When I was growing up, Monterrey and Manzanillo did have one thing in common, though: the general rule was that children played outside. Without even asking for permission, we would leave the house (which was always unlocked), and the world was our playground.

We did have some rules: don’t talk to strangers, don’t go farther than two blocks from home—but that was about it. We rode bikes and skateboards, played soccer in the street, set up a lemonade stand, and played tag and hide-and-seek. We also had videogames and TV, but they were limited to a couple of hours a day, and we really didn’t complain about it (mostly because TV programming and videogames were so limited back then).

In 2013, Mexico surpassed the United States as the most obese nation in the Americas. Because I was born with asthma, I wasn’t the most active kid. Yet I still grew up extra-skinny, and so did most of my friends.

What happened to Mexico’s children in the last 30 years? Based on my personal experience and observations, here are a few of the multiple causes of child obesity in Mexico today.

The school system: It is no mystery that Mexico’s school system is in trouble. We have substandard teachers, no accountability, and funding that is often diverted to teachers’ unions—the list goes onl. If you go to a public school during recess in Mexico, you’ll find a basketball court, which will add to numbers mentioned in any government report. Yet those numbers tell a half truth: the court will have baskets with no backboards and broken rims—and, most likely, the school won’t have basketballs available for the kids to play with. Usually, you’ll just see the boys playing kickball on a dirt patio with improvised goals (usually two rocks set apart from each other), and the girls will be on the sidelines, chatting and eating chips.

According to the Federal Program for Sports and Physical Culture 2014-2018, some of our national sports system’s flaws include the lack of school and municipal sports leagues, deficient attention to school sports programs, insufficient federal funding, obsolete state legislation to promote sports, social inequality and a scarcity of female participation in sports, and the absence of physical education in the school curricula.

The food industry and NAFTA: Before 1994, if I wanted to eat a box of Lucky Charms, I had to cross the border into the United States. We did not have direct access to many of the U.S. food products that are now available in every supermarket nationwide, thanks to NAFTA.

A pre-packaged “Lunchable” is much easier to stick in a lunchbox than what I grew up with. When I went to primary school, my lunchbox was full of fresh fruits and vegetables, and my thermos bottle contained lemonade squeezed from real lemons. Today, kids are taking artificially flavored drinks and foods to school on a daily basis.  According to pediatric endocrinologist Dr. Robert Lustig, the U.S. food industry is in great part responsible for turning sugar into a staple food in Americans’ diets. Thanks to NAFTA, all that sugar is now easily accessible to Mexicans, and we’re devouring it.

TV on demand and the technological revolution:  I recently took my kids on vacation and we were staying at a hotel. My three-year-old son told me he wanted to watch a specific kids’ program. We have TV on demand at home, so it was a challenge to explain to him that the only programming available was what was playing in real time: live TV (none of which was interesting to him). Videogame consoles and TV programming for children have existed for much longer than the obesity problem, so the difference has to be the availability and portability of entertainment that encourages kids to be sedentary. I had my first cell phone when I was 17 years old. “Let me get my iPad” is now commonplace talk among middle- and upper-class eight to ten year olds.

According to the 2012 National Survey on Health and Nutrition, children and young adults are straying from physical and recreational activity. Instead, they play videogames, watch television and spend time on the Internet. The survey estimated that 58.6 percent of children between the ages of 10 and 14 do zero physical or sports activities.

Insecurity and loss of childhood independence: Last, but certainly not least, is the fact that insecurity—and the perception of insecurity—has turned children into hostages of playdate agendas.

When I was 12, I would get home from school, have lunch and then say goodbye to my folks, only to see them again after 7 pm. My everyday life included walking to a bus stop eight blocks away, getting on a bus in order to go to a friend’s house, then walking to a basketball court and playing for a couple of hours—and getting into trouble in multiple creative ways.

Were my parents irresponsible? Was I a neglected child? Of course not. I was free, because the era in which I grew up in allowed me to be. My parents had little to worry about.

My kids are not as fortunate as I was. Unless they live in private, gated communities, Mexican kids are no longer allowed to walk out their door unattended—because today, parents have serious reasons to fear for their kids’ safety. The rise of violence and crime in hotspots in the country has made us (reasonably) more paranoid, so kids now have play dates—specific and limited times during the week when they can get together with their friends. Hopefully, they engage in some physical activity and don’t just glue themselves to game consoles in the living room.

In this new Mexico, where child obesity is a reality, parents need to play a more active role in making sure their kids get out and play, eat healthy food, and detach themselves from their gadgets and TV. No one else is going to do it for them.

A Focus on Security Sidelines Education in Mexico

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Originally published by Americas Quarterly on Nov. 19th, 2014.

This was supposed to be a banner year for Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto. In the last quarter of 2013, his party was able to push through what were then called historical structural reforms to modernize the Mexican education system and boost the national economy and energy sector.  If 2013 was the year for lawmaking, 2014 was supposed to be the year for implementing reforms and beginning to reap their benefits.

However, instead of the anticipated stability, the end of 2014 has proven to be one of most politically turbulent times in Mexico’s recent history. There are no stories of a buoyant economy or a modernized education system to speak of.  On the contrary,  a flurry of disturbing stories have dominated the Mexican news cycle: the state-sponsored mass murder in Guerrero;  strikes at the Instituto Politécnico Nacional (National Polytechnic Institute—IPN); protests and police violence at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (National Autonomous University of Mexico—UNAM);  a railway contract scandalimplicating Peña Nieto;  and waves of viral videos showing police repression, abuse and violence throughout the country.

Against this clamorous background, the $4.7 trillion peso federal budget approved last week by Mexico’s Lower House of Congress allocates 188 billion pesos to police and security projects—a 3.3 percent larger investment than the government made in 2014. Congressman Pedro Pablo Treviño Villarreal, who presided over the budget committee, specified that a portion of these additional funds would help harmonize the police and security forces among the different states and municipalities of Mexico.

The sectors taking a hit in 2015 will once again be education and tourism. In 2012, Education represented 5.2 percent of the country’s GDP. The approved budget for 2015 drops this figure to 2.8 percent, and the Tourism Ministry will receive a 9.1 percent budget cut from last year.

That’s no surprise. With the Ayotzinapa tragedy still unfolding and both the rulingPartido Revolucionario Institucional (Institutional Revolutionary Party—PRI) and thePartido de la Revolución Democrática (Party of the Democratic Revolution—PRD) taking hard political hits, the Lower House decided to capitalize on the public’s concerns byraising the budget for the Victims Treatment Executive Commission from 186 million pesos to 958 million pesos—more than five times the amount proposed by the Executive Branch. Congressman Miguel Alonso Raya from the PRD said that the additional money will be used to set up an assistance fund for the families of victims of organized crime, but did not specify whether or not the families of the 43 student-teachers murdered in Guerrero would have access to the fund.

Meanwhile, the relative cuts in the education and tourism budgets stand as clear evidence that the budget is short-sighted, insofar as it focuses on throwing money at the manifestations of a problem instead of investing in long-term solutions to it. While energy and economic reforms were flying through Congress with relative ease last year, I pointed out the shortcomings in education reform, which are now beset with a lack of development funding.

Congresswoman Lucila Garfias has argued that deciding to allocate only 2.8 percent of the GDP to education reveals how little progress has been made: “When resources in the country are insufficient and the challenges are many, it is essential to prioritize the quality of public education. The decision to restrict these funds places the success of education reform at risk.” Another one of the few voices opposing the 2015 budget, CongresswomanLuisa María Alcalde Luján, chimed in to say that the composition of the budget was fueled by short-term electoral interests and that “…this budget, like the one for 2014, punishes our public universities, schools and research centers.”

It is easy to go for the apparently popular solution. It is easy to say that it is in public interest to favor short-term security over long-term education and job creation. Like many Latin American countries, Mexico is not free of populist rhetoric in its political class, regardless of which side of the political aisle you sit on. Unfortunately, the 2015 budget is once again a populist solution. And like Argentinian journalist Mariano Grondona once said, the problem is that “populism loves the poor so much, that it multiplies them.”

The PRI’s leader in Congress, Manlio Fablio Beltrones, called the 97.6 percent approval vote for the 2015 Budget “a historical consensus.” As long as fixing the education system in Mexico continues to be a lower priority, it is a historical consensus that should worry all of us.

¿Por quién votarías?

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Hay muchos factores que determinan el voto de una persona en las elecciones presidenciales. Los factores son distintos para cada quién y tienen diferentes pesos.

En México hay quienes votan por el candidato y por su percepción de su “calidad humana” (sí, entre comillas porque la atribución a calidad humana de todo político que llega a estar en nivel de competir por un puesto de elección popular en México tendría que estar en tela de juicio).

Otros votan por la plataforma o proyecto de cierto candidato. Los que siguen esta vía generalmente acaban decepcionados al medir promesa contra mandato. Los políticos mexicanos son especialistas en promesas incumplidas.

Otros más favorecen a un partido en particular, ya que se sienten ideológicamente identificados con los valores que lo respaldan teóricamente. O en el peor de los casos los que votan por partido lo hacen “porque me gustan sus colores”.

Hay un grupo más que vota por “el menos peor”, evaluando implicaciones de la llegada de un candidato versus otro, la composición del Congreso con el que le tocará convivir y atendiendo fobias respecto a lo que sucedería en torno a un voto útil y sus intenciones de que cierto candidato no llegue al poder.

Y así como éstas, hay muchísimas más razones por las que definimos nuestro voto.

El día de hoy estuve pensando mucho en el momento político, económico y social por el que pasa México y me surgió un cuestionamiento que muchas veces he visto en los medios, pero que hoy más que nunca, me preocupa la conclusión a la que llego para responderlo:

Si las elecciones presidenciales fueran el día de hoy, ¿por quién votarías?

Me tocó ver los aciertos y desaciertos de dos Presidentes del PAN. Fui testigo de cómo desaprovecharon su ventana en el poder y no fueron capaces de contrarrestar o negociar con Congresos en los que no tenían mayoría. Vi la miopía detrás de su administración de una supuesta guerra contra las drogas y la manera en que el crimen organizado los superó sin vuelta atrás. No los culpo por la manera en que recibieron el país tras más de 70 años en los que más que pactar con el narco, se co-gobernó con él. Los culpo por su inhabilidad de transicionar a un modelo en que no nos diera miedo cruzar la puerta de nuestras casas. Me tocó ver cómo al ser derrotado y abrirle la puerta de regreso a la bestia, en lugar de reagruparse y armar una estrategia de concentración y fortalecimiento, el PAN se desmoronó al punto de que hoy no tiene un líder que pudiera considerar ni candidato ni presidenciable.

Me tocó ver al viejo PRI y al nuevo PRI. Me tocó ver la forma en que hoy “disentir” es una palabra prohibida en el Gobierno Federal. Me tocó ver el regreso y la exacerbación de viejos vicios y toxicidades de nuestra nación de antaño. Me tocó la dictadura perfecta reloaded y los escándalos con sus respectivos deslindes. Me tocó ver la represión en manos de un grupo que ha sabido estirar la liga y faltarle completamente al respeto a las personas que gobierna, llevándolas al punto del hartazgo y la frustración. Me tocó ver a este partido sembrando en las nuevas generaciones un nivel de alienación, resignación y rechazo al quehacer político que genera una completa desconexión e incapacidad de trabajo conjunto efectivo entre sociedad civil y autoridades.  Me tocó conocer niveles de descaro que no sabía existían en la condición humana.

Me tocó ver a un líder moral de un partido de izquierda decirle a su actual Comité Ejecutivo que debería renunciar y que su partido ya no sirve. Me tocó ver cómo de dicho partido emanaron personas que hoy son señaladas en Guerrero y Morelia como criminales y la irresponsable respuesta institucional a dichos señalamientos por parte del partido que los llevó al poder. Me tocó ver cómo al dejar de ser opción viable, uno de los mayores bastiones del PRD, hambriento y embriagado por su sueño de poder, decidió fundar un nuevo modelo de idolatría a su persona y propagar un discurso gastado y destructivo. Me tocó ver cómo el romanticismo detrás del pensamiento de izquierda hoy se traduce a facciones descarriadas, que aspiran a provocar mayor caos e inestabilidad con el único propósito de hacer así más probable su llegada al poder, por regla de eliminación.

Me toca ver los gritos y reclamos por justicia, así como las exigencias de renuncia al actual mandatario. Y no es que quiera que renuncie o que no renuncie esa persona por la que no voté y no votamos la mayoría de los mexicanos (con o sin fraude o monederos Monex).  El mayor problema es que HOY, buscando dentro del espectro partidista, simplemente no veo ni partidos ni posibles candidatos ni figuras presidenciables. Hoy en la clase política de México, ni siquiera encuentro al “menos peor.” Si las elecciones presidenciales fueran el día de hoy, ¿por quién votarías? POR NADIE.

Sí, sí me dueles México. Exactamente tres chingos.

HeForShe… fully agree!

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This message hit home… because I see how raising my son to be sensitive and not embrace violence as a male normality, matters. Because I see how raising my daughter to not feel less adequate for physical activity, or to be submissive, matters. Because my kids are raised in a home where respect is expected, regardless of your gender… but they are lucky in all of these regards.

Thank you, Harry Potter girl…

Bandera, bandera de México

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Otra vez septiembre en México. De nuevo los colores de verde, blanco y rojo invaden las esquinas de nuestras ciudades con puesteros vendiendo banderas, banderines, matracas, rehiletes y por alguna pintoresca razón, pelucas. Suena el Cielito Lindo, Adelita y otras hermosas piezas musicales de nuestro pasado y la gente empieza preguntar en sus conversaciones cotidianas “¿dónde vas a pasar El Grito?”

Bandera, bandera de México. Símbolo de nuestros… ¿Símbolo de qué? Reflexionando sobre el origen de este ícono nacional, tan venerado y respetado que criticarlo, profanarlo, modificarlo o desecrarlo es calificado como traición a la Patria, propongo una nueva posibilidad con todo respeto a dicho enaltecimiento (porque no soy ningún traidor sino un ciudadano comprometido con su pueblo con la fortuna de contar con pensamiento crítico): habría que considerar un cambio de colores y diseño. Sólo por favor, no se lo comisionen a la gente de comunicación e imagen del Tec.

Pero no nos desviemos y volvamos al tema central. ¿Por qué pensar en que deberíamos cambiar el máximo símbolo patrio? Es simple: Nuestra bandera está desactualizada.

Cuando nació la bandera mexicana tricolor, se eligieron los colores verde, blanco y rojo para aludir a la esperanza del pueblo, la unidad de todos los mexicanos y para honrar la sangre de nuestros héroes… porque incluso nuestro himno estima que a la Patria, en cada uno de los mexicanos, un soldado en cada hijo le dio.  Por último, el águila devorando una serpiente en nuestro escudo al centro de la bandera, es representación de la mitológica fundación de Tenochtitlán por nuestro pueblo indígena históricamente más representativo.

Hoy, vale la pena cuestionar si esos símbolos permanecer en la idiosincrasia, en la realidad o por lo menos en las aspiraciones de los mexicanos.

Empecemos por el escudo nacional y su observación de la fundación de la Gran Tenochtitlán. El sello máximo del enaltecimiento de nuestra herencia indígena. Ese mismo indígena que hoy es ciudadano de quinta y al que hemos relegado en todos los ámbitos. ¿Cuál es la participación que hoy tienen los distintos grupos indígenas en la vida del país? ¿Cómo participan en la construcción de nuestro futuro y en las actividades relevantes de nuestra sociedad? ¿No deberíamos sentirnos culpables o por lo menos sentir la vergüenza de la hipocresía que es restregar el águila devorando a la serpiente ante todas las culturas que hemos mandado a las esquinas de las calles del país a mendigar? No le hemos hecho justicia a los fundadores de la Gran Tenochtitlán… ¿qué derecho tenemos de seguir festejándola?

Vamos al verde… Hoy veo un país que en su mayoría ha perdido la esperanza y vive su día a día sin creer en un futuro mejor. Antes de seguir aclaro que yo sigo viviendo día a día tratando de contribuir a dicho futuro pero seamos honestos, nadamos contra corriente. Las razones para esta frustración y apatía generalizada son múltiples y ahondar en ellas bien vale un ensayo de varios capítulos pero si somos críticos respecto a nosotros mismos, es veraz decir que no somos una sociedad civil esperanzada. Estamos hundidos en la conformidad o en la inconformidad inactiva. Lo más cercano a destellos que pudieran dar testimonio de una sociedad civil despierta, son movimientos frágiles, manipulados y de moda electorera, como en su momento lo fue #YoSoy132. La actual administración ha hecho un excelente trabajo en distanciarnos de cualquier posibilidad de influenciar cambios, tomando control de los dos Poderes más relevantes del gobierno y por ende gestando hoy más que nunca, la no representación de la voluntad del pueblo en el Legislativo. Decimos que tendríamos que hacer más por presionar a nuestros representantes, por conocer a nuestros diputados y exigirles que en el Congreso hagan eco de nuestros intereses y prioridades… pero bien sabemos que en México el Legislativo vota por bloque y no por la gente que eligió a cada representante… porque si ni siquiera existe la palabra “accountability” en español, ¿cómo exigirla de los diputados y senadores?

¿Unidad? Estamos unidos en la frustración, en la afición por el futbol y en el sometimiento a programación televisiva de nivel deplorable que fomenta la estupidificación de toda una nación. ¿Realmente amerita eso darle un color a nuestra bandera?

El rojo. La sangre de nuestros héroes. Esos héroes fantásticos que la Secretaría de Educación Pública se asegura sigamos viendo en los libros escolares, adornados por cuentos de ficción nunca repetidos en documentos serios. Esas mitificaciones e idealizaciones de personajes que incluyen a Padres de la Iglesia en cuyo estandarte se festejaba a la Vírgen de Guadalupe y al yugo de Fernando VII sobre México, pillos y vándalos que destruyeron poblados enteros en su pasar, incluyendo la violación documentada de mujeres y la ocupación de una planta cervecera en la ciudad de Monterrey y ¡¿cómo olvidarlos?! Niños que no eran niños y que nunca brincaron a su muerte para que la misma bandera de la que hablo no cayera en manos del enemigo. La brecha entre la historia y la historia Patria es amplia y sigo sin entender la necesidad de mentirles a nuestros hijos sobre los supuestamente respetables hombres que forjaron nuestra nación.  Y aún si quisiéramos mentirnos y seguir llamando héroes a estas personas, creo que para retener el color rojo en nuestro símbolo patrio, habría que empezar a buscar nuevo héroes a quienes honrar. El país los necesita urgentemente.

Propuesta alterna:

Un amarillo pálido que represente nuestra indiferencia y egoísmo. Negro para simbolizar el oscurantismo educativo en que estamos inmersos, la falta de sentido cívico y comunitario y el color de nuestro aparente futuro si no tomamos las riendas del país. Un marco a la orilla con hilo plateado o dorado, para hacer honor a las riquezas saqueadas por nuestros gobernantes sexenio tras sexenio… y en el centro, la foto del Chapo Guzmán impresa sobre el logo de Televisa.

No sé, piénsalo…

Southampton: Here Today

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As the taxi drove up to 60 Radway Road, my brain started making connections and activating memories which had long been luckily stored in my head. Not forgotten, just put away for far too long.

It had been more 26 years since I was first here and ten since my last visit: Southampton, England. Home of Professor Arjan Shahani, an incredible, intelligent, knowledgeable and lovable man I am lucky to call my uncle and the one I proudly take my name after.

I pushed the green wood gate open and rang the doorbell next to the green door, excited to greet Prof. Shahani. While I was really happy just for the fact of seeing him, I did not anticipate I would find so many other reasons to be happy after I walked through the door.

The brain is an incredible organ. It is amazing how much it stores and finds special places inside your head for. I was quick to find that my brain had taken in so much and so many beautiful memories from the house I was walking into, as revisiting it quickly brought those memories back into the present through a series of brief but endorphin-filled flashbacks.

The creaks in the floor, the stairwell, the hanging closet beneath the stairs, the book-filled shelves, a very faint but distinctive aroma which you only find in houses where real Indian food is cooked and spices are stored, the sitting room where people actually do sit and where my dad and uncle shared so many cups of English tea, the window sill, the garden… yes, the garden most of all. A place I remember my aunt Sigrid enjoyed spending so much time in and caring for. While Aunt Sigrid is no longer here to share my trip down memory lane (which I am sure she would have enjoyed), in many ways her presence is strongly felt. Her signature is all over this house and it is almost as if she were still here. Uncle Arjan has made sure of that by placing pictures of her in different areas of the house, not mourning her departure but celebrating her life and joy. Her ever-present smile is in every corner.

Yesterday, Uncle Arjan took me to a park in the city center of Southampton and showed me the linden tree that was planted in honor of Auntie Sigrid. It is a young and strong tree, much like I remember her spirit was. Today, we sat on a bench in another park which was dedicated to her. Beautiful.

I did not spend a lot of time in Southampton as a kid (only visited a couple of times) and I probably didn’t realize it at the time, but from feeling what I am feeling and all the things coming back to me, I now know that the little time I did spend here, was truly significant and special to me. These moments matter and they are part of what defines one’s life story.

Running around the house and going up to the attic with my cousin Morwenna and sister Shanti, reading children’s books in the sitting room, eating raspberries from the garden even though we were not supposed to, going to the Southampton Common (“Park” for us non-Brits) for a walk under forest trees in a British afternoon… I never realized until now that these moments were so dear to me. I had to write about this.

This morning I woke up early, put on my running shoes (trainers as they are called here) and went for a jog in the Common. The mist was lifting from the pond where ducks waddled, squirrels running up trees while I ran past them. As I started taking long, deep breaths of the clean air and just taking in everything around me, my memories kicked back in and I remembered walking these paths with my mother and aunt. We didn’t do anything out of the ordinary… we just took walks and talked about trivial stuff but again, being here revisiting made me realize that those were some of the simple moments that made my childhood so incredible.

Throughout my life I’ve been lucky to be surrounded by very special and loving people and I haven’t been thankful enough. My conscious being has probably missed out of noticing how so many intimate personal interactions have positively shaped my life throughout the past 35 years. However, I’ve stored all of those interactions in my head and this trip has made me realize that.  This was only a 5K run but a much longer mental trip… is there an equivalent in kilometers for tracing back to your earliest memories and thinking of the hundreds of people you are thankful for?

There is just no way to individually name all of you but please know that even if I have not said it or not said it enough, I love you and I am happy you’ve been a part of my life experience. This life has been an amazing run and I am not even at the halfway mark yet.

I love you, Auntie S… And we are Here Today.

 

A Discussion about Lesbian Roles and Depictions in Mexico

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Originally published by Americas Quarterly on Aug. 18th, 2014.

LGBT cyber-activists took to the web last week to publically denounce Mexico City’s 3rd International Lesbian Festival. Through acommuniqué posted on Facebook, nearly 20 LGBT organizations and collectives and around 50 individual signatories condemned the festival as a vehicle for perpetuating misogyny and machismo. They also criticized a number of authorities for vouching for the festival and participating in its organization, including Mexico City Labor Secretary Patricia Mercado and Jacqueline L. Hoist Tapia, who is the president of the Consejo para Prevenir y Eliminar la Discriminación (Council to Prevent and Eliminate Discrimination in Mexico City —COPRED).

It sounds counterintuitive that LGBT groups would oppose an event that claims to support their cause and promote equal rights—and which could not even be hosted in more conservative cities in the country today. So why are these groups opposing the festival?

There are a number of reasons: for one, the festival’s promotional materials include highly sexualized images of women clad in lingerie, and the festival’s agenda includes an event called “The Bunny Party,” sparking comparisons to the men’s magazinePlayboy. Also drawing criticism is the festival’s “coronation ceremony” and a workshop on applying makeup.

In their communiqué, groups opposing the festival write that “while it is fundamental to have cultural, artistic, political and leisure space for lesbians, we find it appalling that these spaces are provided under the basis of gender stereotypes that are misogynistic andmachista. Instead of contributing to the empowerment and freedom of lesbian women from the roles that have oppressed us for ages […] the festival reproduces them with singular joy.” According to the communiqué, the festival’s publicity “only represents white, thin women […]showing women as objects the way male adult magazines would.”

La Tortillería Queretana, an organization that originally participated in the festival, publically bowed out of its scheduled theatrical performance, stating that, “our view is both lesbian and feminist. We are not willing to participate in a machista event.”

Parts of the festival’s agenda seem like they could be consistent with the mission to promote equality and LGBT rights. Events such as the screening of a documentary titled“Lesfriendly,” a soccer tournament, and discussions about workplace challenges and professional opportunities for lesbian women in Mexico could all be interesting or useful to those who might have attended the festival, if not for the festival’s insensitive and objectifying portrayal of women.

Yet the outcry that the festival has generated is also a testament to the progress that Mexican LGBT advocacy groups have made in the recent years in order to get their message across.  The LGBT community in Mexico City and its surrounding cities has clearly built up an effective network that not only promotes LGBT inclusion and acceptance, but also seeks to enforce the guidelines, principles and standards of said inclusion. It is no longer about recognizing the LGBT community’s existence; it’s about being portrayed the way they want to be portrayed and defying traditional stereotypes.

Whether one agrees with the collective or not, the fact remains that these conversations are finally taking place out in the open. Hopefully, this level of activism and social engagement will spread to the rest of the country in the years to come. A cultural transformation, in which Mexicans learn to be more tolerant and respect diversity of all kinds, would help alleviate some of our strongest grievances and obstacles for peaceful interaction.

Blood Spilled in Pursuit of Truth in Mexico

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Originally published by Americas Quarterly on Aug. 12th, 2014.

This June, Mexico’s Procuraduría General de la República (Federal Prosecutor’s Office–PGR) issued a report that paints a gruesome picture of the country’s freedom of the press situation, releasing worrisome numbers on crimes and homicides committed against reporters and journalists for the past 14 and a half years.

Between January 2000 and June 2014, an average of one journalist has been reported assassinated in Mexico approximately every 52 days.  In the 36 months between 2010 to 2012, 35 journalists were killed, and there were 71 homicides against journalists reported between 2006 and 2012, during the administration of former Mexican President Felipe Calderón.

Of the 102 murders cited in the report, which occurred in 20 out of 32 Mexican states, 61 percent of the crimes took place in Chihuahua (16 murders), Veracruz (15 murders), Tamaulipas (13 murders) Guerrero (11 murders) and Sinaloa (7 murders).These five states are no strangers to drug cartels and organized crime.

The report also mentions 27 other types of crimes continuously perpetuated against the press—not just by criminals, but also by the police. These crimes include deaths threats, murder attempts, abuse of power from authorities, illegal detainment, kidnapping, corporal violence, theft, intimidation, illegal wire-tapping, illegal seizure of property, and entering journalists’ homes without search warrants. Additionally, from 2010 through June 2014, 14 journalists have gone missing and today are presumed dead.

And it’s not just traditional news media outlets that are under fire. In 2011, citizens were shocked by a number of cases where citizen journalists and bloggers were tortured and killed, and whose bodies were publicly displayed in cities like Nuevo Laredo—sending a message to truth-seekers and freedom of speech activists nationwide.  In 2012, I wrote about the case of the online alias 5anto, a video blogger who shut down his site after receiving numerous death threats.

While each case presents its own particular nuances, it’s undeniable that powerful forces are behind these heinous crimes to control the press. While the crimes themselves and the recent increase in their frequency are reason enough to worry, the message that they send to news media nationwide is even more troublesome.

One needn’t be an expert to understand the level of pressure that journalists face in Mexico today to self-censor out of fear of their lives. I’ve even become more careful with what I say and how I say it, after getting a threatening phone call in 2011 for reporting on the Casino Royale massacre in Monterrey and questioning the venue’s ties to a prominent political family in the city.

Even more famous are cases of prominent personalities like journalist Lydia Cacho, who has survived numerous attempts against her life, as well as physical and psychological abuse during illegal detentions after she published Los Demonios del Éden (The Demons of Eden). The book exposes the alleged involvement of important politicians in a prostitution and child pornography ring.

The Committee to Protect Journalists’ (CPJ) senior Americas program coordinator, Carlos Lauría, has referred to Mexico as “one of the most dangerous places for journalists around the world.” The 570 pretrial investigations opened from 2010 to date, resulting from a variety of crimes targeting journalists, are a testament to Lauría’s claim.

Meanwhile, the 102 murders reported between 2000 and today are a lot more than just numbers on a page—there is a brave Mexican behind each one. There are families, wives, husbands and children who mourn the loss of a dedicated journalist who sought to report on the wrongs of this country because he or she believed it was the best way they could remedy them. Behind each of the numbers on the report are thousands of news stories that will never be written, and truths that Mexicans will never hear about, silenced by bullets.  This piece honors their bravery.

As long as security conditions in Mexico don’t allow for journalists to freely publish their investigations and editorial pieces—for those bold enough to directly report on dangerous subjects and expose public figures as criminals—hiding behind anonymity might be the best course of action. Permanent silence must not and cannot be the road to take. There’s too much at stake.