Photo by Jordan Murray, @lovelyliterary

Jordan Murray’s perfectly manicured hand displays an annotated title page of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. “From the library of Jordan Murray” is stamped in the centre; just below she’s written, “the cost of pride, love & marriage, social status.” And all around are illustrations of tiny flowers, hearts and envelopes along with a drawing of the famous 18th century English novelist. A multitude of coloured tabs peek out from the novel’s pages.

Murray’s @lovelyliterary Instagram page is an ode to the modern aesthetics of online book lovers. Murray, a 23-year-old University of Windsor student, is an avid book annotator and part of the boom of young adults passionate about reading.

According to a survey by BookNet Canada, a non-profit that collects and analyzes data about the Canadian book industry, half of those surveyed in the 18 to 29 age group preferred books in print. The medium is optimal for recording thoughts, reactions, and feelings in annotated form, and the phenomenon has spread. Practitioners share the art and joy of book annotation on book blogs, Pinterest, Instagram and BookTok, a TikTok subcommunity. Novices seek advice and tips on Reddit and Goodreads. Online retailers like Etsy and Amazon advertize purpose-made book annotation supplies.

OK, Boomer: this isn’t your version of annotating with pencil in hand, making surreptitious notes in margins. Millennials and Gen Zers go all out. They underline, circle and highlight pages. They generously apply different coloured tabs and stickers. “I’m swooning” moments, memorable quotes, relatable themes and spicy scenes are marked. Some annotators have colour coding systems—pink tabs to represent cute scenes, green for standout paragraphs. They also create legends or tables of content for easy reference. The more aesthetically inclined will match the colours of their tabs to their book covers. When it comes to supplies, tools of the trade include pens, scissors, tweezers, rulers, stickers, coloured tabs and highlighters.

“On a more surface level, it’s treated like an art form,” says Murray. “Sometimes it’s idealized for the aesthetics.”

But while these book enthusiasts use their online platforms to spread the word about their art and share with others, creating a hybrid medium of sorts, they also say the hobby offers a much-needed reprieve from the digitization of their lives. “It’s a form of self care, to really connect with my books and disconnect from the world,” says 36-year-old Alexandra Kelebay, a Montrealer and book columnist for CBC/Radio Canada who posts on Instagram @thebookishglow. “It is also a very creative process for some, which is another fascinating way to approach it; people quite literally transform their books into art objects this way, which is a wonderful antidote to our highly digital, online existence.”

This is something Danielle Fuller has observed in her research. The University of Alberta professor of English and film studies is interested in how Gen Z are drawn to analogue media even while they might choose to display their material practices, such as annotation, via digital technology. “Since [Gen Z] grew up with technology, they don’t want to be on screens all the time. Some of their motivations for choosing a print book is to get off screens and that networked environment.”

Equally important is the hands-on approach book annotation affords them. “It makes the experience come alive—it’s physical, tactile, and a kind of tangible way of experiencing a book,” says Kelebay. “When people especially connect with characters or themes in a book, it can be transformative, so annotating concretizes an experience that would otherwise remain abstract.”

Annotation also provides an opportunity to internalize away from a wired world focused on constant social interaction and stimulation.

“For me, annotating has always been something very personal, so to share this with someone would feel very open and vulnerable, almost like peeking into my journal,” says Kelebay. “It’s where I highlight meaningful lines, passages, and quotes, as well as scribble thoughts in the margins as I read. For me it’s a solitary, meditative experience.”

There’s another motivating factor. A few generations ago, books, reading, and annotation were the domain of geeks and scholars. Academics meticulously pored over classic literature and recorded their thoughts. This came with the implicit understanding that only centuries-old tomes by long-dead authors were worthy of annotation—a concept the new generation of book lovers rejects.

Murray started annotating for her Grade 9 English class unit on Shakespeare. But she says she now annotates whatever she’s enjoying – from a Sally Rooney novel to a horror-thriller. “Annotating has made the practice of reading more accessible and enjoyable. It isn’t just for Tolstoy or Austen anymore; it could also be for romance books with cute moments or thrillers with shocking reveals.”

These days, the practice is for everyone. “It leans into the idea that geekiness is now kind of cool,” says Fuller. And that geekiness is viral and massively influential among young adults. A 2024 Statista survey revealed 37 percent of TikTok users in Canada are Gen Z, with BookTok amassing 45.7 million posts. Then there’s BookTube, an online literary community where 90 percent of users are aged 18-24. At the same time, viral book clubs are helmed by the young, rich and famous: there’s Belletrist from Emma Roberts, and model Kaia Gerber’s Library Science. With this kind of star power, it’s no wonder book lovers are happy to share their love for the written word. And annotation is just one way to both publicly and privately display that feeling.

It’s a feeling shared by Ryan Jones, though she takes a digital approach. “I’m 26-years-old, but I’m definitely an old soul at heart,” says the writer and marketing specialist in Waterloo, Ontario. “I like to keep the integrity of the physical book as it is.”

Jones annotates her e-book versions of novels and makes notes on her phone about the writing, characters, and plot. “I do like to highlight things that make me feel so deeply.” And deep feelings about books show no signs of waning, thanks to this passionate generation of young readers.

Photo courtesy Jagmeet Singh/Twitter.

This month, the NDP and Canada achieved a historical first. Jagmeet Singh, former Member of Provincial Parliament in the Ontario legislature was named the eighth leader of the federal NDP. The moment marked a dramatic shift for the party, which has struggled to connect with youth and racialized voters. But it also signifies new possibilities of what political leadership in Canada can look like.

At the beginning of this leadership race, there were plenty of changes I wanted to see in the NDP: namely, the party needed to return to its bold progressive principles to effectively hold the Liberals to account—particularly on their more progressive campaign promises. My vision? The NDP needed a stronger version of social democracy to emerge from the race, one that would defend and expand on principles such as environmental protection, health care, Indigenous relations, income inequality, and precarious work, all while creating an accessible pathway for the realities of racialized people to be a part of and feel represented by the party. The latter part of my vision weighed a tad more heavier.

A shift to the left is a goal often spoken of within social democratic discourse. It may be to convert to democratic socialism in order to emphasize the need to nationalize and increase public ownership of services; or to strive for a more subdued version of our current economic system that merely addresses the ailments of capitalism. However, what often gets lost in the midst of these conversations are how sexism, racism, and other forms of identity-based discrimination are accounted for. In a diverse country, with a typically three-party system, accounting for these experiences are essential in order to engage and appeal to those who are not white. This two-part version of social democracy, like the one I put forward above, in my observations, has yet to be achieved in Canada. Perhaps until now.  

On October 1, Singh captured 54 percent of the vote on the first round. It may have appeared to be a landslide victory, but the media and Canadians shouldn’t discount the hurdles Singh faced in order to get here—from a public racist heckler, to what often appeared like an “anyone but Singh campaign” during the leadership debates. Withstanding these challenges, some race-watchers, like me, felt that Singh would be the answer to the party’s woes, even while others remained in vigorous opposition.

Singh was largely criticized for what some called his “centrist” policies. To support these centrist claims, comparisons were drawn between Jagmeet’s and Niki Ashton’s campaign. Ashton, a fierce democratic socialist, came out the gate with a proposal for free tuition, a plan for a national pharmacare and dental care program and plan for economic justice. However, what set her apart from the other candidates was her desire to see increased nationalization of public services. Despite being an admirable goal, it’s one that translates poorly to the overall general public—firing up a small subset of Canadians: the highly educated and disenchanted socialist.

The criticisms launched against Jagmeet for not being left enough had me reflecting on what success should look like for the NDP post-leadership race. I’m of the belief that before the NDP can make such a democratic socialist shift, the party needs to bring racialized and young people into the fold. A hard left would not only alienate those who are unfamiliar with the principles of social democracy, much less, democratic socialism; but it would impart a purity test willing to exclude those whose viewpoints don’t exactly line up. This would make it nearly impossible to grow the party and form a pathway for new members to feel welcomed and view the NDP as a place to learn and grow within. A Singh-led NDP can help to fill that gap.

***

While I commend the NDP membership for choosing Singh as their new leader, this important victory simultaneously requires a reflection on the racism entrenched within progressive politics. A lack of sensitivity over racialized voters who opposed the Ontario sex-ed curriculum that Singh worked closely with to help ease their transition were quickly labelled as conservatives during the debate and deemed not worthy of being engaged by the NDP. Furthermore, polling put forward during the race to determine whether Quebec is ready for a racialized, turban-wearing leader were disturbingly received with a sense of normalcy. As a progressive party that prides itself as the “social conscience” of Canada, an evaluation on whether Canadians are ready to have representation by historically marginalized groups are unacceptable. Public readiness should never be polled and used as justification when determining whether a person’s race or religion deems them appropriate for a job. The smear campaign launched against the new members Singh brought into the party—who were predominantly racialized—barely received an ounce of criticism from his opponents or the party. Singh still came out victorious, but this doesn’t mean that the racism plaguing progressive politics has been defeated.  

During this time, lest we forget that urge of institutions and political entities to use racialized people as props, either to win votes or receive a surge in popularity. The tendency to want to appear inclusive and responsive to the changing demographics of Canada, at times, often overrides the need to actually do the necessary work to address and/or change both pre-existing attitudes and workplace culture—all of which are necessary for people of colour to thrive and be successful. Political institutions and parties of all stripes are guilty of this.

Without a doubt, Singh’s win is a pivotal moment for the party. But he is not the only charismatic, progressive-minded person of colour working hard to join and take on leadership roles within the NDP. The stories often missing from this historic moment are the countless racialized organizers, volunteers, and candidates who see the NDP as a party worth joining—partly in fact due to Singh and the courage he displayed when he joined the race. He did what many saw as an impossible, inspiring a new generation of future political leaders.

It is now the responsibility of the NDP to support and nurture these candidates, new members, or those simply interested in the political vision the party has to offer, to encourage them and provide them with the resources that are needed in order to be successful. The party cannot rest on their laurels now that they have a person of colour at the helms of their leadership. This act of history-making must be followed-up with an organizational shift in attitude and approach. In doing so, the NDP can then truly be a party where justice, inclusion, and equity is not only preached but also enacted from within. 

]]> https://this.org/2017/03/28/should-canadians-still-pledge-their-allegiance-to-the-queen/ Tue, 28 Mar 2017 15:45:50 +0000 https://this.org/?p=16650

Illustration by Valerie Thai.

Inside the Citizenship and Immigration Centre in Toronto, about 90 people from the various corners of the world chattered enthusiastically and clicked camera shutters. They knew that morning, June 20, 2016, was going to be a memorable one: they would start their new lives as Canadians.

My spouse, Sid, was also there, flipping through his documents nervously. He waited seven months since writing his citizenship test to receive his invitation to the ceremony, anxiously checking the mailbox every day. Others in the room may have waited even longer—perhaps years—for that coveted invitation to arrive.

Becoming a Canadian citizen was not something Sid planned while attending university and working in the U.S. But when he visited Toronto in 2008, he was impressed by the city’s friendly atmosphere and multicultural neighbourhoods. In fact, he liked it so much that he transferred to his company’s Toronto office in 2010 and applied for permanent residency the following year.

Sid sat in his designated seat, wearing a crisp suit saved for special occasions. He had fastened a small maple leaf-shaped pin on his left lapel. This was a day of affirmation—he would publicly avow his loyalty to a new country, and renounce his previous passport.

For me, it was a reminder of what it means to be Canadian after living in Toronto for 20 years. I became a Canadian citizen when I was too immature to understand what it meant to accept a new citizenship. All I had known was that my family would be uprooting from Seoul, South Korea, and staying in Toronto, where my father was offered a job at IBM during the 1990s tech boom. Becoming a Canadian, especially a Torontonian, meant I would be able to meet people from across the globe and broaden my horizons. I now lived in a place where people coexisted regardless of their ethnicity, religion, and sexual orientation. But I have no memories of my own citizenship ceremony other than a few photographs, which made watching Sid’s citizenship ceremony all the more exciting.

“On behalf of her majesty Queen Elizabeth II, the Queen of Canada, I welcome you to one of the most important days of your life,” said the citizenship judge as the ceremony began.

Later, Sid raised his right hand along with all the others. “I swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to her majesty Queen Elizabeth II, Queen of Canada, her heirs and successors and that I will… fulfill my duties as a Canadian citizen,” he recited, verse after verse, after the judge. Everyone in the room looked happy and proud.

But I was stuck on the multiple mentions of the Queen and her significance in Canadian identity. I was reminded of Sid’s mother, who resides in the United Arab Emirates, and her response to the citizenship oath.

“I don’t like it,” was all she said over Skype when told what it entailed.

I thought this was an understandable position, considering she and her family are Indian. Although she was born almost a decade after her country’s independence from the British rule, Sid’s mother grew up hearing stories of colonial India: forced taxes on commodities such as salt and agricultural crops that sent Indians spiralling into poverty. There are reminders of the British rule everywhere in India today, ranging from architecture to the Supreme Court of India’s rule that English is the only court language despite the country’s 22 other officially recognized tongues.

I thought about how other immigrants, especially those from countries that have been colonized, would feel during their citizenship oaths. Many come to Canada searching for freedom and liberty.

But would seeing that traces of colonialism are still alive and celebrated in their new country put a damper on their expectations?

***

A great number of Canadians oppose the current armchair monarchical system, according to one survey conducted by Angus Reid Institute in 2016. When asked if Canada should remain a constitutional monarchy “for generations to come,” 38 percent said no. In Quebec, a whopping 64 percent opposed the current system.

But it’s difficult to separate Canada from its British roots. Canada as we know it began with the long, checkered history of colonization of the Indigenous peoples by European settlers. Our country was born in 1867 as the Dominion of Canada, a self-governing colony of the British Empire.

Today, our country shares plenty with Britain: we have the same language, government system, military history, and Head of State, Queen Elizabeth II, and monarch.

Queen Elizabeth II has been the Head of State for 65 years. And while much of her power is symbolic—the Constitution limits her control in government—reminders of her authority are everywhere, from postage stamps to our $20 bill.

***

Some Canadians are trying to make a change.

A group of permanent residents launched a constitutional challenge, arguing that forcing would-be Canadian citizens to swear allegiance to the Queen violates protections for free speech and freedom of religion.

The Ontario Court of Appeal rejected that challenge in 2014, noting that “the Queen does not rule personally” and that “the reference to the Queen of Canada is a symbolic reference to our form of government.”

The ruling also stated those opposed to the oath have the opportunity to publicly disavow “what they consider to be the message conveyed by the oath” after they receive their citizenship in accordance to our guaranteed freedom of speech.

The website Disvowal.ca now lets Canadians publicly disavow their pledge of allegiance to the Queen. “I pledge my solidarity with the Indigenous people of this land,” writes one person. “I think royalty is an antiquated tradition that has no place… especially not in a modern, dynamic and equalitarian country like Canada,” says another.

This wasn’t the first time the oath to the Queen was challenged. Former prime minister Jean Chrétien was set to change the oath to Canada in place of the Queen in the 1990s but backed out at the last minute, then-citizenship minister Sergio Marchi told The Canadian Press in 2013.

But in February 2017, Immigration Minister Ahmed Hussen mandated that the oath include honouring treaties with Indigenous peoples—a change recommended from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

Perhaps this change marks the start of a new era for the oath. Pledging allegiance to the queen only bolsters a past full of discrimination. Why not scrap mention of the Queen altogether?

This year, Canada turns 150. It’s time to think about what the British monarchy symbolizes—not just for those adopting Canada as their new country, but for all Canadians.

Last weekend, Washington, D.C. was the locus of celebrations marking the transfer of presidential power from Barack Obama to Donald Trump. The traditional ceremonies—from the swearing-in and the inaugural parade along Pennsylvania Avenue to the plethora of balls and galas—coincided with events such as the “Deploraball,” organized by members of the racist, sexist, far-right coalition that calls itself the “alt-right” and that threw its wholehearted support behind Trump. Hats bearing the slogan “Make America Great Again” were a common sight throughout the city, as were blue scarves bearing the name “Trump” in white at each end.

In addition to those grim scenes, the city also played host to myriad protests running the gamut in terms of size, politics, and tactics. A few hundred people gathered to protest the Deploraball on Thursday night, lining up opposite police who used chemical spray on them throughout the evening. There was a sizeable anti-fascist contingent there and at protests the next day; more than a few “Antifaschistiche Aktion” flags, as well as those of various socialist and even communist organizations, could be seen rippling in the breeze throughout the weekend.

A sign at the protest outside the “Deploraball.”

One Trump supporter got into a skirmish with antifa protesters at the Deploraball, instantly drawing a huge crowd of cameras and reporters. It was a fitting prelude to the punch seen ‘round the world, when alt-right leader Richard Spencer—who, despite claiming not to be a neo-Nazi, supports a white ethno-state, has advocated forced sterilization and yelled “Hail Trump” at a conference in late 2016, leading several attendees to do the Nazi salute—was hit in the ear by a masked protester on Friday. Debates are now ongoing regarding the ethics of punching fascists, but if the goal is to stop them from feeling comfortable parading their ideology in public, it appears to have done its job.

On Inauguration Day, several groups, from Black Lives Matter to NoDAPL anti-pipeline activists, formed blockades at checkpoints along the inaugural parade’s route and attempted—in many cases successfully—to prevent Trump supporters from getting through. The anti-war and anti-racist ANSWER Coalition convened as early as 6 a.m. to get protesters onto the parade route. A number of marches converged at McPherson Square for a rally. A group of black bloc protesters engaged in limited property destruction of corporate windows, MAGA hats and, most memorably, an empty limousine; the response from police was aggressive. Flash-bang grenades and chemical irritants were deployed liberally. A group of 222 protesters, legal observers, journalists, and bystanders were kettled and detained, according to the National Lawyers Guild. They are being charged with felony riot, which carries a possible 10-year sentence.

Police line up around a group of detained protesters.

The Women’s March on Washington, the most-publicized protest, drew more than half a million people as well as huge crowds to “sister marches,” with a low estimate counting around 3.6 million in attendance globally on January 21. Easily the largest demonstration of the weekend, the women’s march was also the least overtly political. Many attendees seemed focused on general messages of gender equality and supporting women’s rights without necessarily having considered how best to do that, or what that might mean for women with various intersecting identities. Pink “pussy hats” were everywhere, as were signs that promoted a strictly cisnormative idea of womanhood, and messages from white women thanking police for keeping the peace at the protest pointed to a failure on their part to understand the antagonistic role police play in many women’s lives and in the protests that happened less than 24 hours prior.

It’s unclear if the oppositional energy on display will be effectively harnessed by organizations prepared to push legislators, elect their own candidates and provide alternative means for survival in the meantime, but there are promising signs. The Democratic Socialists of America, billed as the States’ largest socialist organization, has seen its membership skyrocket, and a call-in campaign early in the year led the Republican Party to reverse its decision to gut the Office of Congressional Ethics.

***

What can we in Canada take from the D.C. protests? Aside from the fuzzy feeling of attending one of the various women’s marches across our fair country, there must be something from this moment of great unrest we can apply to our own political circumstances.

At an event held by Jacobin magazine on January 20 in D.C. titled the “Anti-Inauguration,” journalist Anand Gopal stressed the importance of resisting not just Trump, but “the system that makes Trump possible.” In other words, the failed economic policies that have decimated unions, encouraged stratospheric wealth inequality, promoted corporate gluttony at the expense of the climate and of workers; a foreign policy that patrols other countries with unmanned execution robots, that spies on foreigners and citizens alike, that eats up trillions of dollars without making anyone in the world safer; domestic approaches to policing and housing that disproportionately affect racialized and particularly Black people; and a nightmarish immigration policy that sees families broken up or held in detention.

These are aspects of the dominant agenda of both political parties in the U.S., and as the speakers last Friday night noted, this agenda has failed people to such a degree that they have by and large abandoned hope in the political process. In 2016, as barely half of all eligible American voters cast a ballot, just enough in the right states latched onto a destructive strongman whose promises to help are empty but whose threats to hurt are already being fulfilled.

That agenda exists in Canada as well. As with most comparisons between the two countries, it warrants saying that the situation here is less stark in most cases. Canada fought in Afghanistan but not Iraq; we are part of the Five Eyes spy alliance, but didn’t mastermind the NSA’s intrusion into lives all over the world. We have health care, and a social safety net, even if they’re underfunded. The wealthiest one percent of Canadians took in 10.3 percent of all income in 2013, according to Statistics Canada, while economist Emmanuel Saez calculates that the top one percent of American families took in 58 percent of all income from 2008 to 2014.

But Trudeau’s plans for the “middle class and those working hard to enter it,” his pet phrase for the Canadians deserving of the government’s help, are smoke and mirrors. His party appears to understand that people are unhappy with the existing political order, and are expressing such in the votes for Brexit and Trump, but so far they are unwilling to distance themselves from it in anything other than rhetoric.

We saw a huge presence in Canadian cities on January 21 to protest Trump’s inauguration, but there hasn’t been nearly the same response nationwide to the neoliberal agenda put forth in our country. It’s true that Trump presents a unique and immediate threat to the U.S. and the world, through embracing disastrous environmental practices and the fear of an international conflict instigated by his erratic and bombastic behaviour. He is a uniquely hideous figure in almost every possible understanding of the word. His long and storied history of sexual misconduct, which includes several allegations of assault and harassment and him bragging on tape about assaulting women, certainly provided a focus of protest for women who may not otherwise be drawn to politics.

Heeding Gopal’s words means understanding that the same conditions exist to create widespread malaise and dissatisfaction in Canada. They’re not as advanced, to be sure, but we already have a test of our liberal democratic values on the horizon: Kellie Leitch and her advisors have made the calculation that the best way to win the Conservative nomination is to adopt anti-immigrant xenophobia like Trump. Bizarrely, she’s even begun to tweet like him. Whether her attempt at rabble-rousing will succeed is another matter; it seems unlikely without at least a patina of economic populism and charm, both elements she’s lacking.

Canada is not yet at the point America reached before it elected Trump, but we would be wise to be aware of what might lie ahead. The tide appears to be turning in one country after another away from the neoliberal order, and at present, the far right is the only group in most countries offering anything remotely appealing to the average working person. Now is the time for the left to throw itself into resistance, organizing and offering a full and positive alternative to the politics of austerity and division. An alternative that includes the entire working class, that sees identity and class as a “both/and” rather than an “either/or” proposition. We are in a moment of flux, one in which Friedrich Engel’s call to “transition to socialism or [regress] into barbarism” rings truer than it has in decades. One advantage in Canada is that, if the left is able to rise to the occasion now, we might do so before electing our own barbarian.