I hug her tightly then ask her to leave I'll let her die and I wake much more powerful than any god, I am and I am not.
A letter to my parents
the leaves are green again one thing you can count on is seasons changing and waiting for snow. I once told you that it felt like a fairytale and I have repeated it ever since and I'd like to feel your limbs but have settled for a memory. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay. I'd used to think, I'd used to whisper, I'd used to say and I think that I believe it. Even now, after everything how long has it been? A decade sounds insane to say but I am not one to falsify facts. So I'll talk to you through letters, unaddressed pester you with questions, you have left. and then there are some answers dad becomes mom too you shatter gender standards, without having a true clue. Because stability becomes solid, like an unmovable mountain that we climb together. That is not symbolic, just in hiking we take pleasure. Thank you for providing an unquestionable home, being able to go back is what allows me to roam. See, it still snows in April, it's still sunny in November, you are most reliable, since I can remember. So while I wait for the first leaves to fall, I'll say I love you and that is truly all.
Escapril day twenty (prompt: stranger than fiction)
Air slips away as he tries to scream but, he was never heard in the first place. It is a quiet night sleep never arrives expectedly nor does never-waking-up-again Thousands march masked in May and only hundreds in September maybe we have learned that quiet isn’t peace? Yet still…
The reality complex
I fall into cushions of fabricated words thick skin that I have formulated everything is relative but nihilism makes me sad. Clouds have entered my brain again there is only fog that stands between me and reality So I blow but only the candle on my desk turns dark.
The global citizen
As the world becomes more and more interconnected, various nationalities come into contact with one another and new identities are born. The question: where are you from, becomes increasingly difficult to answer. What if you are one quarter Chinese, one quarter Irish, half Italian and you grew up in Australia? To answer a seemingly simple question suddenly requires you to tell your entire life story. While my heritage is not difficult at all, I am fully Dutch, the fact that I grew up in Germany has caused some awkward pauses after the question: “where are you from?”. And honestly, it has led to some identity crises as well. While I am Dutch, I only moved to the Netherlands when I was eighteen and there are many nuances of the Dutch culture that I don’t understand. Home is a complicated word that has no clear meaning for me and I know I am not the only one. So, what does that mean for our world and our identities?
First, we have to talk about citizenship itself. It was only once I started studying that I realized how political this concept is. Apart from migrants wanting citizenship, not all citizenships are equal. There are certain passports that are more ‘powerful’ than others. This means that with some passports, such as the German one, you are able to travel to a long list of countries visa free or with a visa-upon-arrival. However, with a passport from Afghanistan you are merely allowed to travel to 26 countries visa free or with a visa-upon-arrival. Moreover, there is the continuing debate of dual citizenship. Something many politicians want to ban. This results in more questions regarding one’s identity. If you don’t even know where you are when you have dual citizenship, how are you supposed to choose one identity. Moreover, you can feel a sense of belonging in a country that is not part of your nationality. Perhaps, the entire notion of passports does not fit into a world where borders seem to diminish more every year.
A concept better fit for our modern world, is derived from, ironically enough, Stoic philosophy. ‘World citizenship’ states that one’s identity transcend beyond borders. Kant has extended this concept as he adds political, economic and cultural dimensions to it. Holding a ‘world citizenship’ might then just answer all my crises, right? Not quite. I think that the concept is a little hollow. While it might seem that I can just name the ‘world’ as my home, that also means that my home is everywhere. However, if it is everywhere, it is simultaneously nowhere. There would be no place to go ‘back’ to and if I would say that I feel at home everywhere in the world, I would simply be lying. Thus, ‘world citizenship’ also is unable to provide a satisfying answer to the question: where are you from? It does not give me an identity, rather, it is a lovely sentiment that we all live on the same planet, but that is where the value of the concept ends.
So, national citizenship does not fit in our world and neither does ‘world citizenship’. Perhaps, the only answers to the question of an international identity, is one that is not very satisfying. We do not belong anywhere, through travelling, through mixed nationalities, trough moving, our world has become interconnected and globalized. This means that the identity of an international rests on the fact they never truly belonging anywhere in the world. Perhaps, that is what it means to be a global or world citizen. Rather than pretending every place in the world is our home, we should take comfort in not belonging anywhere. This might even lead to the discussion whether citizenships or nationalities provide any elements of identification that are valuable. Maybe, there are many more characteristics that allow us to assess our own identity. And perhaps, these are identities that truly transcend borders and ones we can all share.
Freedom vs. Equality
At a dinner recently, my flatmate asked me what I find more important: equality or freedom. I stopped for a second and found myself unable to answer. Later while I was lying in bed, I was still thinking about the question. My roommate meant it as a semi-serious query, one that would open up a nice conversation. However, I slowly realized that the question is a lot more complicated than my friend meant it to be. What your priority is, freedom or equality, can be loosely translated into your political beliefs: liberalism or socialism. Rather than a fun question to discuss over some pizza and beer, I was suddenly grappled with a question about my core values. Consequently, the answer would determine my entire political belief, right?
So, equality or freedom? I have just finished reading Strangers in their own land by Arlie Hochschild, and one of her conclusions is that we are dependent on each other. Red states need blue states as much as the other way around. Conservatives need socialists and socialists need conservatives. If we take freedom as the core value of the right and equality as the core value on the left and we believe Hochschild’s conclusion, the two cannot be mutually exclusive. So, is it at all fair to frame the two as a trade-off?
The scholars are divided (which is not really surprising, everything is a contested concept in political science). The obvious logic is that, following a more socialist/communist structure of society, people will be more equal, but less free. Whereas, in a society where humans are completely free, inequality is part of the deal, the natural state of humanity is inequality. And in most societies we can find some sort of balance between this trade-off. However, if you dive a little deeper than this simple framework of the two concepts, the two terms are not as mutually exclusive as they may seem. Classical liberalism does not advocate for inequalities within societies. Rather, they believe in equal opportunities and they see them as one of the things that will lead to the freedom they treasure so much. As long as the inequalities have a valid explanation, e.g. people are simply less talented or they don’t work as hard as others, the inequalities seem acceptable. And perhaps one cannot speak of inequalities anymore, because everyone started out from an equal point. If anything, are we truly free if we do not have these equal opportunities? There is of course an argument that creating equal opportunities is diminishing our freedom. For example, in order to create equal opportunities we are not allowed to discriminate people. Strictly speaking, the freedom to be racist is taken from you, but are these really freedoms we want to protect?
So how does this fit into the socialism vs. liberalism debate? Perhaps Arlie Hochschild was right, they need each other in order to survive. Recently, I had a conversation with a friend of mine who said that socialism is always looking for someone to blame, which begs the question: does socialism need inequality to be of substance? Of course this sounds quite extreme, and does not do socialism justice, but it is an interesting thought to follow. As long as inequalities exist within our society, there will be political parties that will want to diminish these inequalities. What happens when these inequalities are completely gone? Perhaps it is a thought too utopian to be worth to follow. However, that my friend asked what socialisms end-game is, is not entirely unjustified.
Maybe the only answer I can give my roommate the next time she asks me if I prefer equality or freedom is that she is asking the wrong question. A more equal society is one that is also more free. Socialism and liberalism are not polar opposites, they feed into each other. They have to do so, because they both exist within our society. And maybe framing the political spectrum into two words at all (left/right, freedom/equality, liberalism/socialism) does not do us humans justice. If anything, it is only useful to polarize and to give me a little (political) identity crisis while I was trying to enjoy some pizza and beer.
Why are we so America-obsessed?
How are your eyes doing? Mine still need to recover from checking my phone every minute of the day, following the US election. A result of the election has arrived and as I can finally be freed from CNN’s Key Race Alerts by closing my laptop, I wonder why I care so much about this election. Why do we care so much more about what happens overseas, while we don’t follow any political action happening in the European Union? How is it possible that turnout for the elections of the European parliament is incredibly low, while the US elections have been trending on Twitter for the past 96 hours? Why is no one sharing treaties or election results coming from the European Union, while I have seen the faces of Biden and Harris about a hundred times today? Why am I, why are we, so incredibly America-obsessed?
Firstly, I think it’s of importance to realise that the US holds a hegemonic position in the world. While the power of the nation is in decline, I don’t believe that its hegemonic position has vanished entirely yet. This means that their politics are relevant to us in Europe. We are dependent on the decisions they make, regarding their foreign policy, as well as their decisions on issues such as climate change. The US still holds a tremendous amount of influence over the world. However, I think that their cultural influence is also enormous. The literature we read, the films we see and in general the arts we enjoy often come from the US. Consequently, the US norms are imposed on us as well, which makes us a lot more involved with the nation itself. Let me give you an example. I have watched a lot of romantic films. It was only when talking to a friend’s parents recently, that I realised that in my country, the Netherlands, it is not the norm to propose with a ring. The image of getting on one knee with an enormous diamond ring is an image that Hollywood has ingrained in my brain, even though it’s by no means a part of my culture.
The US thus holds influence over us Europeans, which justifies our interest in the nation. However, that does not explain our obsession with The States. The political landscape of the US and its two-party system offers an environment that is easy to document. Only one of two candidates can win and the report on the election can be similar to reporting a boxing match. It is entertaining and exciting to watch two candidates scream at each other. It is graspable to think of ‘winner’ and ‘loser’ instead of a coalition that has to be formed. On top of that, the politicians in the US try to sell themselves, which is intriguing, because often their stories are extremely compelling. Accordingly, news shows in the US are almost entertainment shows selling us stories, while constantly reporting polls and data that the viewer can watch and follow closely. Politics in the US, are easy to follow.
Meanwhile ‘at home’, the European Parliament does not even speak the same language and debates are difficult to follow through a translator with a monotone voice. Moreover, the European Union consists of so many different committees and commissions, that it’s hard to keep track of what is happening. There is just too much bureaucracy. There is nothing exciting, glamorous or sexy about politics in Brussels. And on top of its dull politics, we simply lack European ‘patriotism’, as we are first and foremost part of our own countries; a ‘European culture’ hardly exists.
Lastly, our interest in America derives from our historical view of America. Tocqueville, when returning to Europe, believed that the democracy and equality in the US offered a great example for countries in Europe. While the US has now slid back into a ‘flawed democracy’, the sentiment of taking US as an example also persisted after Tocqueville’s time. In the cold war for instance, The States represented a land of freedom and opportunities. The concept of the ‘American Dream’ might have existed mainly in the US itself, it also left traces in Europe. This is not to say that these views of America were justified or matched reality, but the nation portrayed (or perhaps portrays) an enticing image of freedom, and that image might still be stuck in our heads.
All in all, it‘s perhaps just a part of our culture to, albeit subconsciously, perceive the US as an example. That the media portray politics in the US as entertainment that is easy to consume, like any television show we can binge-watch, certainly does not help to break away from our (outdated) views on the US. I think it would do us all, and especially me, some good to take a step back from American politics. Instead, we should shift our focus on politics that might actually be more relevant for us. Maybe in a few years I will be traumatised by Key Race Alerts coming from the elections for the European Parliament (one can hope, anyway.)
My thoughts on grief: two poems
I
They say, when someone dies,
it takes time for you to heal
it’s the most common advice
when you don’t know how to feel
But
Minutes won’t soothe crying
years won’t bring her back
she keeps on dying
brain capacity
is what I lack
See
Her laugh was once pictorial
today: a distant cry
what is in a memorial
if memories just die?
II
11 years
She is still there,
somewhere
deeply buried
inside my brain
I can’t hear her voice
anymore,
but maybe that made it
easier,
maybe a fading smell
is the only way to
appreciate the smell
of honey again
(even if you don’t want to)
Still,
she lives in between the folds
and sometimes,
when I’m reading a book,
she would enjoy,
her laugh appears
to reassure me that
she is a memory
that sticks
(albeit the memory of a 9 year old)
Arrival in Amsterdam
I stepped out of the train at Amsterdam Centraal. Rain was drizzling on my suitcases. The waterdrops were a welcome refreshment after the seven hour long train ride to the Netherlands. I still chuckle at my cluelessness from two years ago. After about a month in the Dutch capital I was annoyed by the rain. To be fair, in February it rained for an entire month straight, arriving at university with jeans that stick to your legs and wet hair every day, drives everyone, even the people who love rain, a little bit mad. However, two years ago, I was still unaware of this wetland and I smiled while the little drops jumped off my nose. When you step out of the central station you are immediately greeted with chaos. On the left the penetrating sounds of tram bells reach you even if you are listening to music. In front of you a mixture of pedestrians, cyclists and confused tourists form one big ball of people. Concern rushed through my (already nervous) body, how in hell was I supposed to cross that intersection? I sighed and started walking when a biker nearly drove through me and proceeded to move on without a flinch. Welcome to Amsterdam.
After taking the wrong tram twice, I had finally arrived in my empty room. The first thing you need when you come to Amsterdam is a bike. Without one you do not have any freedom at all. So, after some slightly awkward conversations with my roommates, I walked to the nearest bike shop and bought my first bike. The first night I peeked through my curtains about a million times in complete paranoia that it would get stolen. (Don’t worry, your bikes will only get stolen when you really, really, need it to go somewhere). The next morning I made a to do list in order to structure some of the chaos that had fabricated in my head. How was this adulting thing supposed to work? (Let me know if you find out, by the way). Completely overwhelmed with all my tasks I biked to the University of Amsterdam. The nerves that had built up in my body calmed down for the first time since my arrival, as I looked around and was greeted with the glistering water of the canals. A light breeze (I was still unaware that these breezes would become full blown winds later in the year, that for some reason never seem to be behind you), washed over me and for the first I was sure that I made the right choice to move here.
The temporary moment of rest was gone the moment I locked my bike and walked into the University. Once more, chaos arose. I had about a million questions for the (poor) lady at the information desk and she could answer about three of them. Apparently, some documents were missing or lost, which meant that my parents had to send me the documents per mail from Germany. My experience at the UvA was off to a rusty start. While I love the university, its administration can be endlessly frustrating, so built up some patience, you are going to need it.
It was only about a month after classes had started, when I truly felt at home in the city. While my food, beer and my rent had (and have) left me broke, I stood in some sort of bar, ready to spend even more money. My room was fully furnished, my documents had long arrived in Amsterdam and next to me, my drunk -equally drunk and broke as me- friends were waving at me, signalling that I should hurry up and bring the next round of beers. My mouth formed into a smile. I finally could say that I lived in Amsterdam, and actually feel like it was true. All the while, I still liked the rain.
Layered identity
I go extinct every day
I try to explain it
to myself often, but
I exist for less
than a second.
Versions after versions layer
behind each other,
slightly different
and eventually
completely different.
I consist of 630201600
versions of myself
And I still need to tell myself
that I have the right
to be inconistent.