Che

Listening to the CBC the other day I heard an interview with Ernesto Guevara's younger brother, Juan. A set piece to be sure but an interesting one none the less, with a couple of tid bits that caught my attention and thus this little post on this humid Sunday afternoon.

The image of Che is both as complicated and ubiquitous as just about any other in the modern day. I suppose when you live your life out loud as he did you will make your fair share of supporters and enemies, people will love you or they will fear you, and as we know, fear will make people do some awful things. His face is plastered around the world supporting the oppressed and down trodden while also selling t-shirts and promoting Cuban tourism. Proving once more that an image can be a powerful tool for who ever wants to pursue a message.

I'd recommend reading his story through his own writings, there are plenty of samples and books out there should you choose to. He was as complicated as you would guess, a doctor that killed, a restless revolutionary figure that truly desired better for the voiceless and master manipulator that knew the power of passion and conviction. That image above is the most recognizable part of his story and his life, obviously there is much more.

But I'm not here to do a history lesson. Something that his brother said caught my attention. Talking about his older brother and the mythic proportions he has reached...

“fight this myth and give back to my brother his human face … Ernesto was a man. We need to pull him down off his pedestal … He would have hated being turned into an idol … 

It is important to understand that he began as a normal, even ordinary person, 

who became an exceptional person who others can emulate.”

Whether you think him as a dangerous figure fomenting sedition or a romantic handsome hero fighting for the people, or somewhere in the middle of it all, he represents a complicated relationship with the world, but he was simply a man at the heart of it all. He had a family, he had dreams, he had doubts and he had fears. Just like us. And he was more than what we may think of him or even know of him, just like us.

Who the hell knows with any certainty what he would have thought about how his life has been portrayed since his death in the jungles of Bolivia. Like so many pundits there are a thousand opinions out there and everyone can be right and wrong at the same time, me thinks we spend too much time on that kind of question instead of what was really important. Like the nonsense surrounding Drumph, we have people on all sides flapping all kinds of gums in an effort to either curry favour or rally the troops. What gets lost in the noise are the very real issues that are around us as plain as day to see. Much like the abject poverty and hopelessness that Che saw on his ride through the Americas south and how he became radicalized as a result, we need to see what has been  happening for a very long time but now seems so much more prevalent because of our interconnected world. We're not very nice to each other and often not to ourselves. And sometimes I think we can't see it for the same reason that fish can't see water, we're in it.

Messy and uber complicated, Che did something for what he believed in. Whether you agree with his methods or not you can't deny his passion in pursuing his beliefs, he died from them in the end. So as a man and not a symbol his brother believes he is worthy of emulation, and in some ways so do I.

Ciao
D

Yes Professor

It's funny what you can remember. Years after the fact, picking up some tid bit of knowledge or insight from an event, a song lyric, a passage in a book. This morning I'm thinking of a book that I had picked up in the airport when traveling to Europe way back when. A long plane ride ahead I chose a spy thriller set during World War Two. I remember it being a good page turner with plausible intrigue and colourful characters. I won't spoil it for you but there is one scene that got me thinking in different terms last night as I tried to fall asleep.

Our hero David is breaking into the German embassy in Sweden and long story short he is faced with a floor in front of him riddled with sensors that will detect a change in weight should even a cat run across the floor. Don't think sensors as we think of them now, these were as described, spring loaded cones that would vibrate should enough force be applied to the floor above them. The vibration would complete an electrical connection and BAM....Gestapo at your feet.

So how did our protagonist overcome the seemingly impossible obstacle? This guy was an average kind of guy so no spider webs, no teleportation, no flying through the air. He remembered what a long dead violin professor had taught him years ago. Play to the center young man. There is more give in the strings when you move away from the bridge. So he reasoned, accurately, that by staying as close to the wall the floor boards would give less flex and thus spare him from an uncomfortable interview with a goose stepping Nazi.

Our boy succeeded in stealing what he went to steal and the story continued on. And 30 plus years later I'm thinking of that advice. Play to the center. I think a lot of us do, at work, in life, in love. It just seems safe there. You're not looking for attention, you're not looking to be singled out and maybe you've got a sense of happiness that comes from that middle road.

We hide in the crowd while people clearly not in the middle hurl rocks and obscenities and false claims in pursuit of what they are pushing for. Be it the right or the left, religious or atheist, north or south...there are always sides to be chosen. Human nature some would argue but in our case, as reasoning bipeds, we have free will, 24 hour cable crap and no lack of opinions held by all sorts of people to try and convince us that they are right.

I like to think that my point of view and response to the madness out there is fair and balanced and articulated from the left, but clearly, from the perspective of an ultra right evangelical, I am dangerous and thus need to be silenced. Scary in its own way to be sure, maybe more so by the fact that there are so many of them. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut and play to the center. Except that only works in times of "peace", not when we are quite literally in a war with facts, dignity and humanity. At this point we have to choose sides, we need to stand up.

When it comes to love, and I've said this a few times, you have to be willing to be vulnerable to whatever comes your way. There is no center here, not for a truly inspiring and deep love the kind most of wish to have. Here we need to stand up for ourselves as much as anywhere else because our desire to be understood, seen and valued is at the very core of what true happiness can be.

Not the easiest thing to do. Comfort, out right apathy, fear and aggressive response will kick you in the stomach at every turn. Turning the tide takes time, perseverance and not a little bit of faith, quite a lot actually. Think of what Gandhi faced? The odds were stacked high against him but he gave us this:

"In a gentle way, you can shake the world"

Perhaps playing the hard notes brings a few more fence sitters to your side as the ones on the other side continue their barrage. By playing those hard notes we open ourselves up to the possibilities of love. Or maybe you get a shoe to the head. Either way, stay the course. If you truly believe in what you have to say, say it. Take your voice and your gifts and lead, allow time and perseverance to help you out. Don't let fear rule.

Ciao
D