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Since class I've been thinking a bit more on the passage of time, and my group's conclusion that Eva's time was spent. Because of the format of the novel, we don't see Eva go anywhere, only where she came from and where she is. Because of the circumstances that led up to this point, she is stuck, her time sufficiently queered to the point that she effectively has none left. Left in prison, her life has reached standstill and is unlikely to go anywhere. Is this an overarching consequence of queering time and eliminating reproductive time? If you destroy the need for productivity and the value placed on it, is productivity actually productive (could Eva's time actually be productive in that we hear her story, thus giving her a normative timeline again), how free are we without queer time? We expressed difficulty applying queer time to a hypothetical school schedule and found it difficult to actually accomplish anything without timelines and aligned classes. Is Eva's being 'stuck' a product of her non-normative timeline?

Throughout my time reading "Eva's Man", I was constantly reminded of a documentary I watched a few years ago. The film, titled "What I Want My Words To Do To You", followed Eve Ensler (of "The Vagina Monologues" fame) as she conducted writing workshops with the women inmates of New York's Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. What struck me about the film at the time was the immense guilt and confusion felt by the women who had been convicted for committing, mainly murderous, crimes. With the direction of journaling, many women brought to the surface their side of the story and the history leading up to their decisions (or maybe better worded, actions).

In reading Eva's man I came to the realization that even though the structure of the book is meant to be read with time being all over the place and not structured I found myself structuring it.  I found myself organizing Eva's life into order even though Eva wasn't doing that herself.  I understood that the author structured the book this way in order to evoke more meaning and really enter a mind of someone that has been truly traumatized.  You aren't suppose to fully understand, you are just suppose to experience the book and not try to restructure it for your own better understanding.  After I read the book and completely pieced together Eva's life in an order that I understood, I stopped an thought why was I doing this?  I was doing it because that is how I have been taught to understand books and have been programed that the way for a long time.  I have been stuck in normative time for so long will I ever be able to fully escape it?  

I had mentioned a powerful RadioLab podcast in class last week about a prolific serial killer, the Green River Killer, who was never really able to understand why he killed. I made this reference to connect with Eva's inability to understand why she killed Davis and that maybe the deep, underlying reasoning for the killing of another human being may never be understood.

7:30 is when the story begins on the RadioLab podcast titled "Why are bad guys bad?": http://www.radiolab.org/story/180166-why-be-bad/. It's really a fascinating story that is worth your 10 minutes of time! 

After an intensive interrogation with Gary Ridgway, the Seattle-based serial killer, special detectives tried to get Gary to divuldge the details and secrets to the 49 murders of female prostitutes, including the one question that everyone really wanted to know: why?

Gary's most satisfying confession still does not present us with a concrete answer, "I just needed to kill because of that." Neither Eva nor the people around her seem to understand why she killed Davis, but outsiders seem to believe that there must be a true reason hidden beneath her silence.

In Gary's case, after talking to psychiatrists, forensic psycologists, and detectives, a clear patter in conversation would begin and point to the musing that we would never figure out the underlying reason why some humans kill other humans. 

Since I wasn’t able to participate in the silence activity in class on Thursday, I thought I’d share my thoughts about it here.

Silence is solitary, personal; it reflects inner turmoil, past musings, incessant thoughts.

Inside that silence, there is power. Power to keep truths guarded and personal, or to refrain from conflict. There is also repression (but this is only perceived by others). In choosing not to express ideas, feelings, memories, stories, silence becomes what another interprets.

Inside that power is manipulation. The Silenced could be misinterpreted because their silence does not divulge their intentions, actions, thoughts, etc.

For Eva, I think her silence is stifling. She is a product of what people make of her. She has had no claim in who she is, for she relies on other’s mistaking the way she looks at them, the way she presents herself. I feel as though she has a childlike way of not speaking. She lacks self-awareness, and this prevents her from realizing early on how her self-presentation is being misconstrued. If she had known earlier how others were seeing her, before the recurrent abuse started, she then could’ve tailored herself to not be what was wasn’t an adolescent. It’s after years of abuse that she conforms to what others think of her. She assumes that identity as her own. Instead she just kept quiet. But, at the same time, she is almost passively defiant because when she speaks, it is usually to say, “Naw.” She has the power, but does not externalize it, never loud enough for her to be heard.  

Eastern State Penitentiary is the most harrowing place I have ever been in. I walk into one of the wings and it’s like I have stepped onto the set of a post-apocalyptic film. The silence is so thick, it’s like pea soup. I could feel my breath whistle through my ears. Tomahawk and I stepped into one of the preserved cells. I trace the lonely bed frame and shiver as I look up to the skylight, aptly named the Eye of God. Steve Buscemi, the narrator of the audio guide we were listening to, tells me that the prison guards wore felt booties over their shoes so the prisoners couldn’t hear them stomp by. I peek out onto the row again and look at the cells with closed doors. Though I am sure my mind is playing tricks with me, I swear I can hear indistinct whispering and shuffles coming from the closed cells. I could feel the mental decay and despair the inmates felt when this place was in operation. I fold my arms over my stomach and shrink back into the cell. 

Eastern State Penitentiary’s Quaker reformers had high hopes to create one of the first revolutionary and successful prisons of their time.  Their model was the largest and most expensive ever erected and soon inspired other prisons and jails across the world.  It’s grand gothic architecture was successful in isolating prisoners and minimizing contact between inmates.  Eastern State was the first prison to offer heating and plumbing in every cell, a luxury not even available to the President in the White House at the time.  Beforehand, prisons treated inmates with extreme physical punishment and labor.  Eastern State took on a new approach where they left criminals alone in their cells to contemplate their wrongdoings and repent.  This horrible neglect did not produce the results that were highly anticipated, however.  Much more torture than privilege, criminals were forced to remain alone in their cell without contact or communication with the outside world.

I attended a public high school in the heart of Los Angeles’ inner city, a predominately black neighborhood, characterized by poverty, drugs, gang activity, and violence. This environment is similar to that of schools in many cities across the country, and I have felt some of the negative effects of a public school system operating on a normative standard  that does not fully encompass their students’ multifaceted lives as a result of their low socioeconomic status. 

How can middle and high schools accommodate both genderqueer students (including transgender and gender-fluid individuals) and students with learning disabilities?

Samantha Plate

Play In The City

11/10/2013

      Solitary confinement. Two words today known as one of the worst types of punishment. However, back in 1829, solitary confinement was thought to be the solution to crime in America. Reformers thought that they could help criminals rather than merely punishing them. They hoped this brand new prison system would be the start of a great reformation across the country. However, human nature is not made for solitary confinement. The conditions of the prison began to cause a huge detriment to both the prisoners and the workers. Both groups had to struggle to keep from growing insane, causing an even bigger tension between the two groups. However, once the prisoners and guards realized that they weren’t all that different, they were able to work together to create a better environment for the both of them.