From the disability dicussion: Tolerance = I’ll deal with you. Acceptance = I appreciate you.
Equality entails that everyone be the same. Difference is regarded as pariah.
Davis: Deviance Disavowal – It is what happens when people pretend that deviant acts are not being acted. Everyone is hard at work ignoring… disability…
Though the impairment is visible, it is rendered invisible through cultural practice. Ie. (an able bodied person saying to a friend with an impairment) “I don’t see you as disabled.” From a social model perspective this can be understood as, “You are only acceptable as far as you are – just like me.” A possibility for a devaluing of identity for the person with the impairment.
Polio: 1950’ s, the cultural view was forceful in asserting that those affected by ‘polio’ be ‘treated’ by means of multiple surgery’s. These surgery’s lasted for hours at a time, were painful and ‘torturous.’ The period of recovery was long with a good chance that more surgery was going to be needed.
The purpose was to allow those ‘afflicted’ to (singular purpose?) walk. The view was highly regarded as necessary and essential for folks/children with polio. The medical profession saw no other option. Normality was to be upheld. Certain families, though they went against the dominant views of the prevailing culture, decided for one reason or another that the child with polio, shall not undergo the psychological trauma of an invasive surgery.
The point is that, the surgery did not cure polio, rather it was a means to visibly assimilate the child into ‘regular’ ‘normal’ life as a ‘walking’ individual. Cause everyone knows that walking is the vessel that leads to all happiness. These families would not be congratulated for choosing to forego surgery, rather they would be seen in rather dim light as those that chose a miserable future for their ‘now confined to a wheelchair child.’ Post Polio Syndrome: In the 1980’s signs of Polio started to recur. Doctors were being flooded with cases of polio once again. The ‘patients’ were former ‘victims’ of polio.’ They were the ones who had been participants in the barbarous surgery’s, not those ‘helpless victims confined to chairs.’ The
Post Pastoral Landscape.
I grew up In Sherwood Park, a bedroom community east of Edmonton. White people live there. White folks who choose to live there because, they have a substantial income and because other white people live there. The core of the community is… suburban homes occupying space on what was, in most cases, land that was used to in some way or another produce food.
Okay, fine, unoriginal and plain, I recognize this. The part that got to me though was the landscape. Specifically the landscape to the west, for invariably when one lives in a smaller community in proximity to a larger one, the focus of the gaze is often directed at the larger body in awe and affection. We face west into the sunset and look at the silhouette of ‘the city,’ I think. These warm fall colors, the amber and crimson, blend together to form an image worthy of digital encapsulation, ahh, the city. But in the foreground of this spectacular awe inspiring view, that which is often not the focus, is the heavy industry.
The fumes from tall towers burn bright, burn long and burn hard, ‘burning off’ that which need burning off. Fumes that rise and glide, they flow into the air and mark the canvas of our city image. Each miniscule particle plays a role in changing the direction and intensity of the setting sun. But yet, these towers are not seen, these gasses are not seen, these massive oil drums, like buckets for giants are not seen. I say that they are rendered invisible because, no one talks about them.
They are rendered invisible by their naked visibility.
Here in Thunder Bay, away from the cacophony of steel pipes that shuffle crude and refined matter from sector to sector, (I am reminded of those play toys found in doctors offices, the wooden base, the coated metal wire frame jungle housing wooden beads that slide and shimmy their way around with the help of children’s hands) tomorrows engineers site happily on the floor of a tightly woven carpet in the corner of a doctors office (the site of real disease transmission).
…Here in Thunder Bay the towers are not gone, simply, they are of a different variety. The oil and gas, and gas additives have been replaces with grain towers and logging yards. The ships come in from all over the world, yesterday a ‘russian’ boat was in the port collecting a towers worth of grain. Apparently the breadbasket of Europe is looking for imports. On my photomission of yesterday I met a man who was happy to wax poetic with me about the logging industries blatant land rape, “for 2/4’s, it’s shit, they don’t care, just go up to the forest, up to the 55, and cut it all down, it’s dry too, bring it here and ship it into the states as fast as they can” (poorly paraphrased). When he asked me what I was photographing he said there wasn’t much down here worth photographing.
When I told him that I liked to photograph industrial landscapes, his tune changed and we entered a conversation about Burtynsky. He told me that yes, they (Thunder Bay) needs some outside perspective, to capture the look and feel of the harbour and recreate it for them downtown where people might actually look at it. I hope I run into that man again, I’m sure we could of talked about the environment and politics for hours, but he was headed to the office.
I guess if I can pick out a theme, it would be that, what is most visible, often ends up being invisible.
By the way if you would like to send her a happy birthday, Oct 9. missamygroove@hotmail.com (She’ll probably kill me for that)
A
Equality entails that everyone be the same. Difference is regarded as pariah.
Davis: Deviance Disavowal – It is what happens when people pretend that deviant acts are not being acted. Everyone is hard at work ignoring… disability…
Though the impairment is visible, it is rendered invisible through cultural practice. Ie. (an able bodied person saying to a friend with an impairment) “I don’t see you as disabled.” From a social model perspective this can be understood as, “You are only acceptable as far as you are – just like me.” A possibility for a devaluing of identity for the person with the impairment.
Polio: 1950’ s, the cultural view was forceful in asserting that those affected by ‘polio’ be ‘treated’ by means of multiple surgery’s. These surgery’s lasted for hours at a time, were painful and ‘torturous.’ The period of recovery was long with a good chance that more surgery was going to be needed.
The purpose was to allow those ‘afflicted’ to (singular purpose?) walk. The view was highly regarded as necessary and essential for folks/children with polio. The medical profession saw no other option. Normality was to be upheld. Certain families, though they went against the dominant views of the prevailing culture, decided for one reason or another that the child with polio, shall not undergo the psychological trauma of an invasive surgery.
The point is that, the surgery did not cure polio, rather it was a means to visibly assimilate the child into ‘regular’ ‘normal’ life as a ‘walking’ individual. Cause everyone knows that walking is the vessel that leads to all happiness. These families would not be congratulated for choosing to forego surgery, rather they would be seen in rather dim light as those that chose a miserable future for their ‘now confined to a wheelchair child.’ Post Polio Syndrome: In the 1980’s signs of Polio started to recur. Doctors were being flooded with cases of polio once again. The ‘patients’ were former ‘victims’ of polio.’ They were the ones who had been participants in the barbarous surgery’s, not those ‘helpless victims confined to chairs.’ The
Post Pastoral Landscape.
I grew up In Sherwood Park, a bedroom community east of Edmonton. White people live there. White folks who choose to live there because, they have a substantial income and because other white people live there. The core of the community is… suburban homes occupying space on what was, in most cases, land that was used to in some way or another produce food.
Okay, fine, unoriginal and plain, I recognize this. The part that got to me though was the landscape. Specifically the landscape to the west, for invariably when one lives in a smaller community in proximity to a larger one, the focus of the gaze is often directed at the larger body in awe and affection. We face west into the sunset and look at the silhouette of ‘the city,’ I think. These warm fall colors, the amber and crimson, blend together to form an image worthy of digital encapsulation, ahh, the city. But in the foreground of this spectacular awe inspiring view, that which is often not the focus, is the heavy industry.
The fumes from tall towers burn bright, burn long and burn hard, ‘burning off’ that which need burning off. Fumes that rise and glide, they flow into the air and mark the canvas of our city image. Each miniscule particle plays a role in changing the direction and intensity of the setting sun. But yet, these towers are not seen, these gasses are not seen, these massive oil drums, like buckets for giants are not seen. I say that they are rendered invisible because, no one talks about them.
They are rendered invisible by their naked visibility.
Here in Thunder Bay, away from the cacophony of steel pipes that shuffle crude and refined matter from sector to sector, (I am reminded of those play toys found in doctors offices, the wooden base, the coated metal wire frame jungle housing wooden beads that slide and shimmy their way around with the help of children’s hands) tomorrows engineers site happily on the floor of a tightly woven carpet in the corner of a doctors office (the site of real disease transmission).
…Here in Thunder Bay the towers are not gone, simply, they are of a different variety. The oil and gas, and gas additives have been replaces with grain towers and logging yards. The ships come in from all over the world, yesterday a ‘russian’ boat was in the port collecting a towers worth of grain. Apparently the breadbasket of Europe is looking for imports. On my photomission of yesterday I met a man who was happy to wax poetic with me about the logging industries blatant land rape, “for 2/4’s, it’s shit, they don’t care, just go up to the forest, up to the 55, and cut it all down, it’s dry too, bring it here and ship it into the states as fast as they can” (poorly paraphrased). When he asked me what I was photographing he said there wasn’t much down here worth photographing.
When I told him that I liked to photograph industrial landscapes, his tune changed and we entered a conversation about Burtynsky. He told me that yes, they (Thunder Bay) needs some outside perspective, to capture the look and feel of the harbour and recreate it for them downtown where people might actually look at it. I hope I run into that man again, I’m sure we could of talked about the environment and politics for hours, but he was headed to the office.
I guess if I can pick out a theme, it would be that, what is most visible, often ends up being invisible.
By the way if you would like to send her a happy birthday, Oct 9. missamygroove@hotmail.com (She’ll probably kill me for that)
A
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