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Student Life

Smashing the Platriarchy at NDG Arts Week

How the act of smashing plates can be a transformative experience

“I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to smash all week,” says Marlo Turner, an NDG local, as she enters the gallery space for Smashing the Platriarchy 2.0. Lindsay Fleming and Melanie Stuy, organizers of the participatory performance art event, hand Turner a plate and greet her warmly. Locating her coloured sharpie of choice, Turner eagerly joins the dozen other participants who scribble away their soon-to-be-smashed thoughts.

Smashing the Platriarchy 2.0 took place from Aug. 21 to 23 during the 9th annual NDG Arts Week. The event is a trifecta of interactive exhibits that invites attendees to physically, auditorily and thoughtfully engage with a variety of materials.

“I’m learning something new today that I didn’t know anything about!” says participant Lynne, as she listens to audio recordings of past attendees sharing their personal stories. Photo by Alex Hutchins.

Participants express negative feelings that stem from sexism and racism, to xenophobia and climate change on old plates provided by Stuy and Fleming. Afterwards, adorned in safety goggles and with their plates snuggly wrapped in a burlap sack, they smash them with a hammer.

Throughout the three day event, participants use the broken plate shards to fill out a mosaic on a piece of cut wood, creating the beautiful shape of a bird to symbolize freedom, explains Stuy.

I select a plate, a blue sharpie and choose a seat between Fleming’s eldest daughter, Grace, and another attendee, Rayanna Speede, to write down whatever comes to mind. Speede and I begin explaining what our plates are about.

“I’ve been dissecting a lot lately, so I think that’s what came out,” says Speede, in reference to the swirl of mandalas decorating her plate. I ask her what she thinks smashing the plate will feel like, and she responds: “Like closing a chapter. Being introspective is good, and I think smashing this after will be a good thing.”

“I’ve been dissecting a lot lately, so I think that’s what came out,” explains Speede. “Being introspective is good and I think smashing this is a good thing.” Photo by Alex Hutchins.

Stuy and Fleming hope the community art project will start conversations. The pair want to create safe spaces that are conducive to open dialogue and aid in the processing of feelings that are typically repressed or are too large to condense into words, they say.

“The night of and day after the 2016 US election, I wasn’t ready to put my feelings into words,” explains Fleming. “But I had a lot of them, and they were big.”

While chatting with Stuy from the cozy confines of a quaint coffee shop a few days prior to the event, she recalled the post-election days leading up to the creation of Smashing the Platriarchy 2.0. It all started with a group of friends and family coming together over the mutual desire to externalize their feelings.

“I like the idea of art as a transformation,” said Stuy, explaining how the idea of breaking plates with friends evolved into creating a transformative art piece. By assembling the mosaic as a community, piece by piece, Stuy hopes to create beauty from brokenness, and “turn those negative feelings into something more positive.”

Passers-by and attendees who didn’t want to smash plates were encouraged to contribute to the Wall of Ideology, a collection of written thoughts, feelings and phrases on display inside the gallery space. Recordings of people recounting their personal stories from previous gatherings on mp3 players were also available for audiences to listen to.

“I’m learning something new today that I didn’t know anything about!” says Lynne, a participant, after listening to the audio recordings and examining other people’s plates.

Laura Kamugisha, a Concordia student and communications assistant for NDG Arts Week, explains what the paragraph on her plate is about.

“It’s about being used,” she says. “About being the pillar of the home… but not having a seat at the table, even though you built the table.”

Laura Kamugisha explains that her plate is “about being the pillar of the home… but not having a seat at the table, even though you built the table.” Photo by Alex Hutchins.

Stuy and Fleming believe that showing children how to acknowledge and express their emotions is essential. “It’s important for [kids] to be a part of that conversation too,” explains Stuy. “It gives them an opportunity to channel their feelings, and for their opinions to be heard.”

Grace, at only nine years old, nonchalantly asks her mother what the current gender wage gap is so she can write it on her plate.

“It’s really interesting,” Stuy explains, “because [some] people couldn’t believe, not only that we had smashed plates, but that we let our kids do it too.”

As individuals, it’s important to find and create our own channels for expressing all of the thoughts we may be trying to process but that we can’t necessarily put into words.

Coming together to vocalize, process, and physically break the negative thoughts that would otherwise remain unaddressed is not only empowering, but incredibly healing. Especially when done as a community with one unified goal: to smash the patriarchy.

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Opinions

Gingerbread cookie argument is a bit half-baked

Holiday cookies aren’t a symbol of the patriarchy

You can tell a lot about someone by how they eat their gingerbread figures. Some torture them in warm milk, others dismember them, leaving only the head and torso, and others see them as a representation of the patriarchy.

Australia’s Organic Food & Wine Deli, in Melbourne, Australia has been in the news as of late with their “organic genderless gingerbread figures” which also happen to be vegan. Many news reports have been asking if this is, perhaps, the most politically correct cookie ever.

Although presented in the media as being one solitary issue, this story demonstrates two distinct concerns, one more pressing than the other.

First, as ridiculed by some, these cookies are both organic and vegan. As reported in The Independent on Oct. 21, “they are organic and vegan too, so this is really a cookie you can eat with peace of mind that its deliciousness is coming at a cost to no-one.” Trivializing such issues is disrespectful and potentially dangerous.

As pointed out by Concordia film studies major and vegan Kristi Kouchakji: “It’s not just about catering to political or ethical vegans, it’s also about accessibility for people with intolerances, allergies, or who keep Kosher.” She further points to personal experience of the children of friends who may “go into anaphylactic shock if they eat eggs.”

Kouchakji in not alone in these concerns. It should be noted that Concordia student-run organizations, such as The Hive Co-op and Café X, carry vegan foods.

It is perhaps the second aspect of this story that is most jarring. Store owner, Jeanette Taylor, has gone on record with The Herald Sun as stating that “it’s just a bit of fun and it’s more about not offending people by writing man”. Although presented as lighthearted, Taylor’s concern about offending a potential client is somewhat bizarre.

Anyone who has worked in retail for a long enough period of time will attest to the fact that it is impossible to please 100 per cent of customers. Undoubtedly, the naming of the product is due to a complaint or conversation where the “gender” of the gingerbread cookie, or similar item was discussed. However, this is ridiculous.

It should be acknowledged that the patriarchy does cause significant harm to both men and women.  An example of this is the difference in pay earned in jobs traditionally held by women as opposed those held by men—an issue of concern in Quebec to this day. Further examples of the patriarchy at work may be seen in the social codification of gender norms, the instances of sexual violence towards women, and a variety of social injustices throughout time and cultures.

These larger issues should be addressed and worked on. Although an argument can be made that gingerbread men reinforce these problems, it would be difficult to make.

People are not that serious about gingerbread men. If they were, the fact that one is eating a representation of a human being would be problematic in itself.

Perhaps it’s time to take a step back, grab a glass of milk, and have a cookie.

If the gingerbread man is the embodiment of the patriarchy there is only one solution to it: bite its head off.

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