The Employment Diaries

G20less



Saturday morning, I woke up pretty hungover. My friend, lets call him Rob, was also probably hungover, but his agenda was a little different than mine.

Though we slept under the same roof, when he left the house that morning it was to fuel up before the G20 protest. When I left the house it was for a two hour brunch that would fuel my watching of the Last Days of Disco. For the record, there is some protesting in that movie as well.

Before said brunch I was called apathetic by my friend (who for the record also went to said brunch and then skipped town for a pig roast instead of partaking in G20 protests).  I said I didn’t think protesting was such a relevant way to get a point across and he scolded me for not believing in mass mobilization (his reaction made me think of my reaction to people saying print will die. “Noooooo. But nothing can replace the touch of paper!”). We tried to figure out why protesting was so effective in the sixties. I suggested novelty, he suggested people were more impassioned.

We batted back and fourth about whether our generation was apathetic, or whether we just have different modes of getting our points across (he told me facebook was not an apt comparison of effecting change. Has he heard of “Enough with the Poking, Lets Just Have Sex” which has been helping people get laid since 2007)?. Seriously though, I’ll defend twitter as a kind of modern protesting stage, where people argue, share, and develop ideas and opinions. Twitter in itself is a daily protest against a couple of voices controlling our messages, as are blogs, but there weren’t any picket signs involved.

Mass mobilization is easier than ever.  You can get your voice heard online. You can record a video that goes viral. Lots of change happens online. In the theatre, in movies, in all different modes of expression.

Just because I’m apathetic about protesting, doesn’t meant I’m apathetic. I just don’t feel  connected with the form. I’m not really a yeller (What’s that joke about adding “In the bedroom..”). I’m a writer. Even worse, I do journalism. I like to shrink and to let people get big.

This all to say, I don’t want to feel guilty about not going to the G20 protests, okay? I watched videos from my friend’s computer and I know what went down. I know it meant my friend couldn’t get into her Queen and Spadina apartment, that more than 600 people were arrested and that a bunch of store windows are boarded up, and that someone will dress like the black bloc for Halloween. Then there’s this awful movie that makes Toronto look like a scene from Children of Men.

I even planned to go on Sunday, but when I got on my bike and started feeling drizzles, the dread of being caught in a thunderstorm and the pile of work I had waiting at home loured me back to my apartment.

So instead, I spent the next three hours finishing my assignment for Canadian Business Magazine (where I work) about retirement. That’s right. Just serving it up for the man while y’all punch out Starbucks Windows. Power to ya.

Do I think it’s dumb people protest? No. I’m glad people do. A world for of Angie’s would be a boring place…

I guess the great and terrifying thing about growing up is you get to know yourself. My name is Angelina Chapin. I do not like protesting. But I do like reading newspapers and don’t want to hear about their irrelevance. We’re all holding onto something…

Here’s some audio from my controversial friend Emily Conner on why protesting is irrelevant: