Entitlement and the presidency

During an interview on a North Carolina radio show yesterday, the interviewer asked Mitt Romney’s son, Tagg, how he felt when he heard “the president of the United States call your dad a liar.”

Tagg’s response was vivid: Jump out of your seat and you want to rush down to the stage and take a swing at him. But you know you can't do that because, well, first because there's a lot of Secret Service between you and him, but also because that's the nature of the process.

He was being honest. It must be unbelievably hard to watch someone you love on the stage taking the figurative punches. Presidential campaigns are brutal and thankless. And, for those who are fortunate enough to win the seat, the ultimate job involves more of the same. To be frank, I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone in their right mind would want to be president of a nation, let alone a powerful nation. I know for a fact that I would not have the capacity to run for such a seat, or to support a loved one through the process.

Power alienates. The poor fellow who becomes head of state is raised onto a pedestal so high that people either expect him or her to be godlike or they demonize him or her. And the demonization is relentless. I’m thinking about all the racist drivel I’ve seen being directed at President Obama, the First Lady, and their family. I’m also thinking about all the attacks that Bill, Hillary, and Chelsea Clinton have put up with from the likes of Rush Limbaugh.

So, I do understand when people like Ann Romney or Tagg Romney get frustrated and say something they really shouldn’t say to an interviewer. They’re being human, and their human actions give us a peek at the pain they experience behind the curtains. It is evident from what they tell us that running for president is not all glamor. In fact, if you don't have the right personality type, it can be the greatest punishment imaginable.

At the same time, their words reveal something else to me: “privilege” and “entitlement.” David Sirota has written a piece on the very subject, describing it as an instance of “White privilege.” It’s an interesting piece, but I’m not making quite the same argument he is. To me, the privilege lies in the apparent presumption on the part of the candidate’s family that he has already won the seat. I’m sure there is a case to be made about race playing a part in all of this. But I think other people, like Sirota, are better qualified to make that particular argument than I am.

The idea that a candidate deserves to win a seat and is doing the whole nation a service by running is something I’ve heard more times than I care to remember. Frankly speaking, I think it’s a self-serving statement. It’s the sort of thing I have always expected a politician to say. But I did not actually expect him or her to believe it. And I did not expect his or her family to buy into it either. So you can understand that I was surprised to learn that these people actually start to believe this stuff after a while. And when they start to believe it, they start identifying too much with the coveted seat and thinking that it is theirs. That, my friends, is where the sense of entitlement comes in.

In the real world, people do not run for president so that they can devote their life to service. They run because they are ambitious and very much like the idea of being in power. Their motivations are selfish. Objectively speaking, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just a fact of life. We need leaders, so we must have people self-centered and ambitious enough to want to step into that mantle. By contrast, nuns and monks devote their lives to serving others. Their efforts are directed at diminishing the ego and elevating the common good. This distinction is very important: We speak of winning the presidency, but I have never heard of anybody speak of winning the vow of poverty or the chance to serve in an orphanage or hospice. So we really need to stop pretending that presidential candidates are martyrs for the greatest cause.

Perhaps some presidential candidates and their families have to believe that they deserve the seat and that they are running for the sake of the country. Maybe convincing themselves that these are unshakeable truths helps to compensate for all the psychological trauma and exhaustion that they endure during the race.

Whatever the case, winning the seat is a privilege. It is not a foregone conclusion for any candidate. So it would probably be in the best interest of presidential campaigns to take their candidates and their families through counseling throughout the campaign and afterwards. Running for president takes too much out of the candidate and his or her family: it would be ideal if these people went into the experience with realistic expectations and with the understanding that they could lose, but that life would still go on. Party sycophants are unlikely to give this kind of guidance. So it falls on counselors to play this role.

This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

On the controversy surrounding the image of Michelle Obama

Those of you who are following the news online will notice that there's an debate raging about a picture that depicts a semi-nude Michelle Obama on the cover of a Spanish magazine. You can read about it on the Huffington Post.

As you will notice, there are two issues being addressed. One is the decision of the magazine editors to feature the portrait on the magazine cover. The second is the decision of the original artist, Karine Percheron Daniels, to create the image in the first place.

With respect to the former, I have no idea what the motivation of the magazine editors was in the first place or how the image is related to the featured articles of the issue. So I can't speak authoritatively about it.

With respect to the latter, it is indicated that the picture of Michelle Obama is part of Daniels' "Famous Nudes" series. Other personalities depicted in the series include Queen Elizabeth II, Michael Jackson, Eva Peron, Prince William, his wife Catherine, Che Guevara, and Princess Diana. You can take a look at all of these images on Daniels' FineArt America portfolio.

The thing that strikes me is the fact that many are rushing to label Karine Percheron Daniels a racist for depicting Michelle Obama in the nude. Many of the articles written in this vein mention, as an aside, that the image is part of a larger series of famous personalities in the nude. However, they conveniently avoid further discussion of that series.

Well, I don't want to avoid that series. I think that any genuine discussion of the original artist's intentions should address at length the fact that other powerful men and women of our era are depicted in the nude in her other paintings: and these men and women are not all black. Some of them are Latino/a and some are white.

If creating the image of Michelle Obama makes Daniels a racist, then what does it mean that she portrays Queen Elizabeth in the nude? Is that also a racist act? Perhaps a misogynistic act? What about the depiction of Prince William? It seems to me that fitting the image of Michelle Obama into a larger story about white racism requires one to ignore the context in which that image was produced.

I don't think there's only one legitimate way to respond to art. It is perfectly fine for people to hate a piece of art if it violates their ideals. But, along the same lines, just because this particular image offends a particular group of people, it does not follow that their opinions are the only legitimate ones.

It's actually unusual that I'm writing this piece. I'm not a fan of nude paintings: I've never been interested enough in them to even remember their titles or the identities of the artists who created them. I can certainly see why Americans and particularly African Americans are offended at the depiction of Michelle Obama. From their perspective, it fits into a history of dehumanizing depictions of black people. I can also see why the choices made by the artist in creating that single picture could be interpreted as racist. If I didn't know that the artist had depicted other personalities in the nude, I would probably have thought it was a racist image too. But (and this is what I want to emphasize) I would want to know what the context was before rushing to condemn the artist.

The reason why I sat down to write this piece is because I think there's too much of a tendency to jump to the worst possible interpretation of events in this day and age, even when there is clear evidence challenging our assumptions. I've watched as one controversy or another has made it into the headlines and people have expressed outrage and brushed aside any nuances. I've also read strongly worded opinion pieces that suggest that there's only one way to interpret certain events, and that anyone who dares to suggest otherwise is racist/ sexist/ unpatriotic/ a self-hating member of some ethnicity or another. Frankly, I am tired.

There's a part of me that's wondering how many people realize that their perspectives are not universal perspectives. For instance, even the idea of what constitutes nudity is not set in stone. What people may consider to be evil in one context or sexual in another is simply a fact of every day life in a third. Think about this: in some cultures it is considered immodest to leave one's hair uncovered; in others, it is perfectly decent to wear little more than a wrap and to breastfeed in public. In some contexts, wearing knee-length skirts can almost precipitate a national crisis. In other contexts, for instance in art or in anatomy classes, the human body or form is natural: nothing to blush about. There is something to be said about that diversity of views, whether or not we agree with every single one of them.

This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

Turn the TV off

http://nutritionafrica.blogspot.com/2012/08/turn-tv-off.html

I’ve been thinking about the impact that the media has on our self-perception as women, minorities, etc, because it’s something that interests me. Much of what I’ve encountered is negative. For instance, the scarcity of positive black role models in the TV and print media leaves children feeling that there is not much for them to aspire to. As for black females, they take away from the media the idea that dark tones of skin and frizzy hair are to be detested, as are curvy figures.

This is heart-breaking, of course. But I also read something that got me wondering. It was an article about media consumption patterns among different racial and ethnic groups. According to the piece, black children spent significantly more time watching television programming than kids of any other ethnic group. That made me think about the roles we played as consumers, whether active or passive. And I did wonder whether there was something more we could be doing as individuals to make a difference in our children’s lives.

Are we all really as helpless as we make ourselves sound when we talk about the negative effects of the media on our kids? Do our kids have to be plugged in to Hollywood’s version of the world? What would it be like if we stopped being such avid consumers of empty, soulless programming and shallow magazine articles? What if we stopped feeding our children images of materialism, mediocrity and dysfunction?

I realize that many people turn to the TV and other forms of media to keep their kids occupied because they have limited options. Perhaps they’re working two or three jobs to put food on the table and can’t sit down to supervise their kids. Perhaps a sitter is beyond their budget. Perhaps having the kids go outside and play is not an option because the streets are unsafe. They likely recognize that plonking the kids in front of the TV is not the best option, but are trying to make do with what they have.

But is it really true that there are no options or alternatives? I would like to believe that people have some degree of agency, even in very difficult situations. Maybe they can’t reform the media, but they can certainly be more selective about their children’s consumption of it. Kids don’t have to watch or hear everything, even if it has been rated suitable for their age group. That applies to both TV and radio. Video games should also be included in this discussion. While some video games can be remarkably educational, others can be disturbingly realistic in their portrayal and glorification of violence and sexism.

Books are the most ideal form of information and entertainment that come to mind. When I was growing up, electronics and video games were out of reach. Our only consistent way to amuse ourselves, outside of playing or doing our chores, was to read. And that we did with gusto. All the kids I knew, whether poor, middle class, well-off, rural, or urban appreciated a good book. We made a habit of borrowing books from each other and buying second hand books. Brand new books would have been beyond our budgets, and functional libraries were like some rare species that you caught sight of once in a while.

That is why I wonder why it is easy for many Americans to identify books with elitism, and TV with the average guy’s experience. In my experience, books are actually cheaper to acquire in the first place, and to continue to use, while anything electrical or electronic is on the pricier side. Mind you, I’m not talking about heading to expensive bookstores or buying an e-reader. I’m talking about joining a local library, and getting access to thousands of books at no cost to yourself, or buying secondhand books. It amazes me that getting kids to appreciate books over cable TV, electronics, and video games can be a challenge in the American context. In an ideal world, books would be valued more highly, and literacy would have a higher priority than chest-thumping about being the greatest nation in the world.

It must be said, though, that even books have to be vetted. It’s not enough to grant one’s children access to books. One must also know what they are reading. Wherever possible, parents and guardians of impressionable kids have to play a more proactive role in determining what kinds of images they are being exposed to.

This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

On HIV/AIDS, religion, and public health

http://nutritionafrica.blogspot.com/2012/08/on-hivaids-religion-and-public-health.html

Over the years I have lost many to HIV/AIDS: family and friends. I can’t tell you how many, though. I stopped counting a while back. However, I can tell you that, because of the impact of HIV/AIDS on my life, I know what stigma is. I know what it is like to watch people sink into depression, lose hope and die because those who matter most to them have rejected them. 

HIV/AIDS as we have experienced it in the East African context has struck the family as a whole: men and women in their prime and young children have been the typical victims. Our AIDS story has had much to do with heterosexuality. So one can’t simply label HIV/ AIDS a “gay disease” as has tended to happen in the US. Our governments have had to address AIDS as a national crisis because it has stricken the mainstream.

In nations such as the US, where the tendency has been to associate the disease with sexual and ethnic minorities, I get the distinct sense that little mainstream urgency has been attached to the fight against AIDS. There are certainly men, women, and youth who have devoted their lives to fighting this apathy. But, unfortunately, there are also others who tend to view HIV/AIDS as a form of punishment for “breaking God’s laws” on sex and sexuality. Of course, this is not a uniquely American view. I have also encountered it among some people of faith in the East African context.

My interactions with those who have expressed these troubling views have led me to think about just how limited this particular religious approach to human problems is. I’m talking about a specific interpretation of the Christian teachings on sex and sexuality. The idea is that, if everybody limits themselves to following these teachings and only engages in sex within the context of heterosexual marriage then sexually transmitted infections (STIs) such as HIV/AIDS will cease to be a problem. In other words, the only way to curb the spread of HIV/AIDS is to be a “true” Christian.

That is all well and good, except that never in the history of humankind have all members of a given community adhered strictly to its religious teachings: A “true” Christian can get infected with HIV/AIDS even if he or she is firmly heterosexual, married, and faithful. For one, there is such a thing as a cheating spouse. Secondly, infection can be transmitted through rape. Yet another situation that facilitates the spread of infection is transfusion with infected blood and blood products. Yet another is the use of unsterilized medical equipment. The list goes on and on.

Those who persist in seeing HIV/AIDS as a form of divine punishment conveniently forget how closely interconnected we all are. As a result of these interconnections, HIV/AIDS does not discriminate. When you are exposed to the HIV virus, it does not ask whether you are “saved,” pray regularly, give alms to the poor, fast, or obey God’s law. If your defenses are weak, it penetrates them and infects your body whether you are rich or poor, young or old, “innocent” or not, devout or otherwise.

Keeping all of this in mind, how useful is it that a significant number of religious leaders have a simplistic approach to dealing with HIV/AIDS? How useful is it that they condemn it as a sinners’ disease, oppose the use of condoms under all circumstances, and oppose most forms of sex education? Simply put, their actions are not useful. In fact, to the extent that they influence public policy, they end up endangering everybody in the community.

Knowing this, I think that those of us living and working in communities stricken by HIV/AIDS should persist in emphasizing that it is treated by government and health organizations as a public health issue, not a moral issue. From a public health standpoint, we can speak about HIV/AIDS in its complexity. We can also talk about risks, prevention, and treatment. Importantly, we can make an effort to protect everybody.

What is the place of religion in all of this? Well, I honestly think people are entitled to believe whatever their religions teach them. However, I also think their beliefs should be directed towards governing their personal lives and setting moral standards for their religious communities. They should not be imposed on the broader national population as public health policy.

Further reading
"Education, honest dialogue key to halting spread of AIDS," by Chris Carlin and Debra Stanley, 1/17/07, http://articles.southbendtribune.com/2007-01-17/news/26826941_1_hiv-prevention-hiv-testing-new-aids-cases
"HIV and AIDS stigma and discrimination," http://www.avert.org/hiv-aids-stigma.htm 
"Public health approach to combating HIV/AIDS," http://www.searo.who.int/LinkFiles/RC61_12-pa_Item-14.pdf
"HIV/AIDS stigma: an impediment to public health," by Ronald O. Valdiserri, MD, MPH, March 2002, http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1447072/pdf/0920341.pdf


This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

Problem-solving: a skill we desperately need

http://nutritionafrica.blogspot.com/2012/07/problem-solving-is-skill-that-we.html

I've had the good fortune to live and work with people who have devoted themselves to solving problems. They are really the unsung heroes of our communities. They are the ones who fix the things that are broken in our systems or carve out new paths to bypass the old, dysfunctional ones. These people work in a variety of fields. I'm not just talking about those who work in healthcare, law, social work, or pastoral care. I'm talking about people in almost any field out there. Heck, I could even be talking about you.

MUCH ADO OVER NOTHING

I've come to realize over time that people in general spend a lot of time and energy making much ado over nothing. We invest so much capital in symbolic battles against those whom we perceive as our enemies, and we do this in big ways and small ways. People who spend much of their free time gossiping about and undermining personal enemies do it. So do political parties and other large entities that thrive on creating controversy and provoking outrage. And these actions come at a cost. What they add up to, at the end of the day, are symbolic victories, but the real foundational problems remain in our communities.

EMPHASIZING SYMBOLIC VICTORIES AT THE EXPENSE OF TRUE SOLUTIONS

You want some examples? Look at the state of contemporary American politics. More specifically, look at the kinds of legislation that American conservatives have been pushing for all over the nation in the past few years. I'm talking about those laws that focus on issues that conservatives consider to be key to the nation's moral fabric: abortion, contraception, gay marriage and civil unions.

If you happen to be conservative, you may consider these nationwide legislative victories to be a great accomplishment for your side. But there's one thing you should be worried about vis-à-vis this kind of legislation: It's the fact that the legislators making it happen are doing it as part of a cynical calculation. The idea is this: By achieving these symbolic legislative victories, they signal to the people who voted for them that they have done what they were put in office to do. They subsequently win the loyalty of their constituents, but they have absolutely no incentive to work on legislation that actually solves the biggest problems facing their communities (e.g. unemployment, the failing health care system, malnutrition).

Today, American communities battling poverty, health crises, and other long-term problems are not actually dealing with these problems. Not in terms of policy, anyway. The problems are not even on the agenda. And the not-so-funny thing is this: When problems are ignored, they do not vanish. In fact, they have this knack of growing bigger and bigger. An apt illustration of this is Mississippi, one of the poorest states in the U.S., where conservative legislative efforts have been focused on making the one abortion clinic in the state next to impossible to operate. In the meantime, the average Mississippian is struggling to make it from day to day, living in the margins.

If you're on the ground in these communities, the situation is very frightening. To use a Kenyanism, things are elephant (there's a huge catastrophe impending). You watch as the existing problems are compounded; perhaps you even know what is broken in the system and how to fix it. But you also know that any proposals you make for policy changes will come to nought. Only if your proposal stands to make somebody somewhere a fat load of cash will it see the light of day.

In Kenya, I see pretty much the same kind of inertia about solving problems. The symbolic battles fought in the media are often flimsily disguised battles about ethnic supremacy. Occasionally, they're about religious supremacy and morality. Many Kenyan politicians and religious leaders alike are highly vocal about these kinds of issues. They know that they are effective in rallying support, and 'consolidating the base.' And they are successful: For some reason, people gain tremendous satisfaction from boisterously supporting or opposing some cause or another, and don't seem to mind that their shouts and rallies do nothing to ease their lives. When all is said and done, the old problems persist in the community: poverty, chronic health issues, food insecurity, environmental degradation, and others.

LOCAL HEROES

The people I consider heroes in this anti-pragmatic climate are the ones who live in our communities, recognize our problems, and put in the hard work necessary to solve them in their own small way. If they have private capital, they use it to put their ideas into practice. If they don't, they reach out to others in the community with similar interests and they leverage their resources to craft solutions. When they face obstacles due to political obstructionism, corruption, etc, they don't give up. They simply look for a way to bypass them. Their main aim is to solve the identified problem, not to get fame for it, and not to profit materially from it. So they labor on quietly, achieving little victories and making a big difference in the lives of some.

Their victories do not lie in reaching large numbers of people. Even if only a few people's lives are improved, the problem-solvers' achievements remain meaningful. They form a template that the rest of us can borrow from. We can learn from them: We can learn about the techniques they used and adopt their attitiudes. Hopefully, by adopting their active approach to life, we can solve some of our larger problems.

THE INSPIRATION FOR THESE THOUGHTS

These thoughts didn't come to me out of the blue. I've been pondering on them for a long time. Part of my motivation has to do with the work I have done as a volunteer, and my exposure to others who have volunteered in other contexts. Part of my inspiration actually comes from observing those religious and ideological communities that place a high premium on self-sufficiency (sometimes due to a history of persecution). Even in those cases where I disagree with their core teachings, I find that they have valuable attitudes and practices that have helped them to thrive. Some of the groups (broadly-defined) that come to mind include the American nucleus of the Church of Latter Day Saints and the survivalist movement in the United States.

One of my more recent inspirations was Dylan Ratigan, who until recently hosted a show that was part of MSNBC's daily line-up. It seemed to me that he placed a high premium on getting beyond partisan squabbles to discuss real problems and solutions. I don't know how successful a recipe that was for TV. Addressing real issues is hardly ever sensational enough to attract consistently high ratings. But I did take away from his show the urgency of pulling our heads out of the ground and getting to work. In the last installment of his show, he emphasized this philosophy and described his intention to continue working with those who were committed to developing solutions to the problems in their communities. He also wrote briefly about the same in one of his Huffington Post articles.

Another huge inspiration comes from Iran, via Mississippi: A description of a community health project that is intended to reach the rural poor. I've already linked to the relevant article above, but here it is again: These folks are working with very little institutional support, but their ideas are clearly solid. I can't help wishing that they could rally the support of local communities, especially churches, and mobilize the public to raise funds for their endeavors.

HARAMBEE: PULLING TOGETHER- A LEARNED SKILL

Working together to build the community is a learned skill. Some people are fortunate enough to be born in communities where this skill is taught. Others are born in communities where it is underemphasized. For those living in communities of the latter type, learning how to organize to solve practical problems is a godsend.

Reading about these kinds of communities makes me realize just how important effective community organizing is. We tend to think of community organizing as facilitating civic protest. But it can help communities achieve much more than that. Surely, it can help communities develop solutions to their healthcare problems. It can also help them educate families about healthy nutritional practices and sustainable living.

HOMEGROWN SOLUTIONS ARE BEST

One of the fundamental lessons I have learnt from my experiences and from others is that one's capacity to be an effective problem solver is drastically diminished if he/ she is an outsider to the community. How can one propose practical long-term solutions when he/ she hasn't lived in a community and doesn't know in precise detail what kinds of complications govern the community members' lives? This seems obvious. It also explains why the best solutions for community problems are homegrown solutions. One can't simply translate solutions wholesale from another community. They have to be tried out locally and modified to suit local circumstances. And for them to gain any currency in the community, they have to be seen to work for locals.

This is why I'm increasingly inclined to support the idea of people everywhere being more proactive in crafting solutions for their unique local problems using whatever resources they have at their disposal. Governments may help in some ways, but they can't do everything. In some cases, they don't do anything, not even the bare minimum that we have come to expect from them. As I write these words, I'm thinking about the annual floods and droughts in certain parts of Kenya (for example), and wondering at the fact that, even when these catastrophic events happen predictably, we still get caught unprepared. What can we realistically do in local communities to be better prepared for these kinds of crises?

To answer these kinds of questions, we need to take a close look at the social infrastructure we have. We need to look at the ways in which our communities are structured, see what kinds of social nets we have for people in times of crisis, and determine how to strengthen them. If the social net is the extended family, what can we (as individuals and families) do? If it is a local religious community, then let's work with that: what can we do? I'm interested in seeing religious activists spending less time burning boxes of condoms at rallies and more time building structures to support teen mothers who choose to keep their children, or to help AIDS patients who are stigmatized by their communities.

I'm also interested in seeing so-called tribal organizations investing their energy in mentoring young unemployed men and women and giving them internship opportunities, not indoctrinating them to hate others. How about villages? There's so much we can do, especially those of us whose communities have lost their most productive men and women to diseases such as HIV/ AIDS, TB, cancer etc. There is much more we can do to support the struggling families among us. We come equipped with active minds and bodies, so let's not wait for help from on high.

In the spirit of practicing what I preach, I intend to continue blogging about this subject. It strikes me that problem-solving is undermined when one has little or no access to information. So I'm going to make it a point to share any information I come across that has the capacity to inspire and empower others. Feel free to communicate with us if you have any ideas that you'd like to share.

This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

Some lessons about writing and criticism

I've learnt a few important things about writing over the years. They follow below:

1. Writing anything of good quality, whether a short story, novel, poem, academic paper, or web copy is hard work.
2. Writing constructive criticism about another person's work is challenging.
3. Writing destructive criticism about another person's work is easy.
4. Keeping an open mind as others critique your work is difficult.

My point of entry into this subject is my cumulative experience as a teacher, a student, an editor, and a writer. So I have had occasion to experience both sides of the coin: I have been the writer, and I have also been the critic.

I know how challenging it is to gather one's thoughts into one coherent stream and to set them down in black and white. I do it every single week on this blog and elsewhere. The final product is rarely what I envisioned when I first set out to write. On a good day, that is fine, because I am still satisfied with what I've written. On a not-so-good day, the flaws in my writing are apparent to me, and it takes numerous rereads and drafts to finally get it right. By the time such a piece is done, I have invested my heart and soul into it. I may have spent a significant amount of time on research, and may have considered and discarded countless possible angles.

Then come the second pair of eyes and the criticism. Sometimes I am fortunate: The person who is critiquing  my writing may send it back to me all marked up in red, but the comments make it evident that he or she actually read my piece, took my ideas seriously, and engaged with them as I had presented them. This is the biggest compliment that anybody can pay a writer.

When a critic reads my writing and takes it on its own terms, he or she is respecting me as a writer. The critic may ultimately disagree with my major premises and present me with the reasons for this disagreement in detail. But that is fine. It gives me a taste of what my potential audience may perceive when they read my writing, and may help me identify and fix the flaws in my poem, story, or article.

On the other hand, I may disagree with what the critic says. Perhaps he or she misunderstood something fundamental in my writing. Even in this situation, reading his or her critique will help me determine whether I need to rewrite some of my work so that its meaning is more apparent to readers. The criticism is still constructive: Something good will come out of it.

For the critic, writing this kind of critique takes effort. First of all, he or she actually has to read the text. The critic has to immerse himself or herself in the world conjured up by the text to decide whether the narrative is true to the rules of that particular world. If there are problems within the narrative, then it is only by reading it closely and pointing to these specific problems that the critic can write a proper critique.

For criticism to be constructive it should also be true to the original intent of the writing. In other words, it should seek to improve the writing to the point that it achieves what the original writer set out to do. Destructive criticism does the exact opposite. It seeks to impose an alien purpose on the narrative: typically the purpose that the critic subscribes to in his or her own writing.

So, for instance, a destructive critique would fault a text for not being politically engaged, even if the writer had made it evident that he was not interested in writing overtly political texts. Such a critique would typically express the critic's sentiment that "This is what I would have done if I were the one writing this piece." Critiques of this form are never about the text or the writer of the text. They are more about the critic. And that is a problem. The critic's job is to engage with the writer's work, not with his or her own literary legacy.

This brings me to the question of the writer's reception of criticism: How should the writer respond to destructive critiques of his or her work? Well, the answer to that question really depends on the context. In an academic context, for instance, it may be in a scholar's best interest to defend his or her article if a fellow scholar misrepresents it in a review or analysis.

Another situation comes to mind: one where a writer is commissioned to write an article by somebody else. If the article doesn't meet the person's expectations, the writer will not get paid. So the writer has an incentive to respond positively to the criticism, even when it is not constructive.

A colleague recently found himself in that situation. He was hired to write a seemingly straightforward article. His client gave him instructions about the length, content, and tone of the article. For the amount of pay she was offering for the final product, the terms seemed reasonable.

Once he started to work on the article, however, he realized that there was some ambiguity in the subject she had asked him to write about. It turned out that the subject could be addressed in two drastically different ways, and she had not been clear about which one she preferred.

The writer sought clarification from his client. In her response, his client cleared the confusion up. Later, when the writer had completed the article and sent it to her for review, it turned out that there were other unspoken expectations she wanted him to meet. She outlined them at length, asking him to rewrite the piece accordingly.

The irony of the situation was not lost on the writer. He recognized that if his client had presented all this information clearly in her original request, he would have written a good piece the first time. He would also have asked for more money, because, as it turned out, the article she wanted was more complicated than the one she had initially described to him.

It was not the writer's fault that his client had initially failed to give him sufficiently detailed instructions. However, if he wanted to get paid, he would have to take her criticism to heart and rewrite the piece to meet her new specifications. In truth, her criticism was not constructive. Rather than giving him tips for improving his first piece, which was consistent with her initial request, she was essentially asking him to write a completely different piece.

In the business context, the customer is always right, even when she is wrong. So while her criticism of his article was unfair, there was little he could do about it. If he wanted to be paid, he would have to rewrite the piece and face the possibility that she would request yet another rewrite, and another one, and another one, ad infinitum. Not surprisingly, he chose not to rewrite the piece and ended up foregoing the payment.

My colleague's description of his experience struck a chord with me. It got me thinking about how separating a piece of writing from the context of its production and from its intended meaning is the easiest way to rubbish it. It also brought home to me the fact that some critics (whether they are literary critics or clients) have no idea how much work goes into writing. I happen to think it is fairly easy to be dismissive of somebody's work if one has never walked in that person's shoes and faced similar challenges.

I like to believe that my cumulative experiences as a writer and critic have helped me bring a balanced approach to these roles. Because I have worked as a teacher and editor, I am learning to take a step back from my own writing and to recognize the flaws within. This makes it easier to be receptive to other people's critiques and to see the merit in them.

At the same time, my experiences as a writer and student, subject to other people's judgments, help me to be more sympathetic when I am reviewing others' writing. Because I know how much barbed critiques can hurt a writer and undermine his or her courageous attempts to be creative, I try to keep my critiques constructive. Of course, this is a work in progress: Each new day brings new experiences and encourages me to grow as a writer, a teacher, and an editor.

This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

Can one discuss responsibility without being labelled a victim blamer?

I just read this article about victim blaming. I like the fact that young men are stepping out and condemning rape in unambiguous terms. But there is one thing about the article that I find troubling. It's the second paragraph:

Women staying out late in foreign places dressed in tight, skimpy clothes with some alcohol in their systems are often warned to be smart and aware of their surroundings. These type of warnings stem from the idea that if women look or act a certain way, they must be asking for it … right?

Really? Telling a woman to be smart and aware of her surroundings in a foreign country, to pay attention to her alcohol consumption and her clothing is victim blaming? What exactly is the suggested alternative? If you're in charge of a bunch of kids studying abroad in a conservative nation, are you actually going to tell them to dress in a fashion calculated to rile the locals? Are you going to tell them to go out and drink to their heart's content?

Realistically, drinking until one is out of control is a stupid idea, whatever the circumstances, and whoever is doing it. In an ideal world, people wouldn't do it. But we don't live in an ideal world. Many people drink excessively, to the point that their capacity to make wise decisions is impaired. A responsible adult should be concerned about this, and should be able to advice them about the risks that come with irresponsible drinking.

As for clothing, whether or not we like it, what we wear tells a story about us. It may be an inaccurate story: People's assumptions about us on the basis of our clothing may be completely wrong. But it is important to know what assumptions they have in order to interpret their behavior and to be better prepared to respond to it.

Let me give you an example. Wearing pants (as Americans call them) or trousers (as Kenyans call them) in some rural communities is considered to violate some unwritten principle about the proper place of women. Apparently, women who wear trousers in such communities are perceived to be rebelling against the social order. It doesn't matter how modest the pants/ trousers actually are. People judge first and ask questions later.

A woman going into such a community without prior knowledge of these conventions would likely encounter some resentment or hostility without understanding why. A woman with some understanding of these conventions would be in a position to decide whether or not to wear pants/ trousers while living in the said community. If she chose to wear them, she would understand where the hostility was coming from and have the capacity to respond to it effectively.

Mind you, this is not just about women. It is about men too. Communities all over the world have dress codes for men and women, depending on their age and station in society. The dress codes may or may not be set down in the legislation, but they exist all the same. If you're planning on living and working in such a community and want to build good will among the people, then you should show some respect for their conventions. That typically includes dressing in ways that they will find acceptable.

While we're on the subject, we should expand the discussion to include political awareness. If one is planning to go to a foreign country, then he or she should have some idea of what is going on in that country. Otherwise, he or she may waltz right into the heart of some political upheaval.

In this light, sending young men and women out into the world with the idea that they can and should do whatever they want, whenever they want without any regard for context is not responsible. There are actually places right here in the United States where wearing clothing of the "wrong" color will get you shot.

I think that it is important to recognize that a rape victim does not ask to be raped. Nobody asks to be attacked and subjected to violence by another. When violence like this occurs, the sole responsible party is the perpetrator. But recognizing that does not mean that we should send our young men and women out into the world with a naive sense about how human society works.

This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.