Sunday, December 21, 2008

Bullying


I do not know why I did not write about this before. I guess I was trying not to think about it because it was so painful and unavoidable. When I reported bullying to Human Resources of XYZ ( name not published because of the fear of reprisal) company in Toronto, I was told by HR person that she is an "expert on bullying". I knew right away that she was a bully herself, trying to convince me that I was not really bullied. She asked me: Do you know what bullying is? And I said: I know. The bullying is when you know that you are bullied. She was so hard trying to look professional, and I was so hard trying not to say anything bad about my boss, for whom I knew was the mastermind of the bullying plot. I read everywhere that it is not smart to say anything bad about your boss, even if he is a pure evil, so I followed that advice. Even more so, I said nice things about him, hoping, as any victim is always hoping, that this will elicit some empathy on his side. No, it did not happen. After I reported bullying the things got much worse. It was actually a group bullying, I called it mobbing, by three people that I sat with in the same cubicle. They were constantly taking turns in making personal remarks about me: how I talk to my son on the phone, how I say words, more subtle remarks but very clear to me that no matter what I do they will not show any respect for me and my good work and all the help I was offering to them. For me this all thing became somewhat exepriment "in vivo". I was saying things that I was hoping will improve the situation, showing interest in their shallow conversations, tried to share some stories that I thought will show to them that I am also a human being with a little bit different but similar interests and concerns as theirs. The only one thing I could not do, is to go to their level, because I cannot make fun of other's misfortunes. And when one of them commented on the death of the boy who run away from home over disupute with parents over xbox 360, when she referred to the dead boy as "that ass kid now knows better", I had to keep my mouth shut and bite my tongue, because whatever I wanted to say to her could not convey how much discusted I was with that comment. And so on, I could go on and on. If you do not understand by now what I am trying to say, just stop reading it here. Well, Human Resources came back to me with the conclusion that "there was no evidence of bullying". I said I would be suriprised if they found any. I resigned next day. Some will call it victory for the bully. I call it staying alive. Because, seriously, these people are so mean that they would not mind taking your life. It is true, and it is happening right now.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Dada

Stizu najnovije vesti iz Srbije: Dada Vujasinovic je NAJVEROVATNIJE ubijena. Vidim fotografiju sa uvidjaja, crno belu, Dadino telo blago povijeno, jedna ruka zgrcena, kao da je malo podignuta, usne u polozaju kao da nesto zele da kazu, otvorene oci: umrla je gledajuci. Da li su vrata bila zakljucana, ko je poslednji bio u stanu, ko je razbio luster, ciji su krvavi tragovi prstiju na fotelji, ko je stavio pusku pored nje, i da li je uopste pucano iz te puske. Zaglusena buka puske sacmarice u sitne sate u novobeogradskom bloku. Niko nije cuo pucanj.

Dani, meseci, godine otkucavaju u vremenu lazi i zla. Vlasti se smenjuju, ostaju isti ljudi na vlasti. Cesto mislim da niko nije vredan ni da pomene Dadino ime. Suze moje majke koja ne razume zasto je pisac napisao da je htela da se otruje tabletama. Pogresno shvacena rec, recenica, ne pomaze moje objasnjenje da je to knjizevna istina, da su oni koji su je ubili to vec insuinirali dovoljno puno puta, i da postoje i oni koji mozda veruju da je novinarka bila luda. Luda u nenormalnom vremenu. Normalan u normalnom vemenu. Cista matematika.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Kraj proizvodnje Juga


Trebalo je videti moju iznenadjenu facu kada sam jutros na putu ka poslu, u sabveju u Toronto Staru procitala da se Jugo vise nece proizvoditi u Kragujevcu. Kao prvo, ja sam mislila da je Jugo odavno vise ne proizvodi, i kao drugo saznanje da ce prestati da se proizvodi izazvalo je u meni neki cudan osecaj da, eto i taj poslednji proizvod drzave u kojoj sam rodjena vise nece postojati.




Tekst je napisan duhovito: zasto Jugo ima grejace na zadnjim prozorima, da se ogreju ruke dok ga gurate; sta su amortizeri na Jugu, njegovi putnici; i tako dalje. Iako se Jugo prodavao u Americi po ceni od 3990 dolara, i iako je ostao zapamcen kao najlosiji automobil svih vremena ( pa sta bi hteli za te pare!!!), ja sam, ipak nekako tuzna sto se Jugo vise ne proizvodi. Kazu Fijat je otkupio Zastavu i pravice Fijat Punto. Sigurna sam da ce se na prostorima bivse Jugoslavije jos dugo kotrljati Jugo u obiliku raznih krntija i dokazivati Amerikancima da je vaznije imati dusu nego pare.
Ziveo Jugo!!!

Monday, August 4, 2008

Pad Krajine

4. avgusta 1995. sam bila u Beogradu. Secam se jasno da ni jedna televizijska stanica nije prenela vest da su se hiljade izbeglica iz Krajine slile u Srbiju. Izasla sam na autoput Beograd-Zagreb i nemo posmatrala nepreglednu, dugacku kolonu traktora. Nigde nikoga. Ceo Novi Beograd cuti. Sakrio se iza spustenih roletni. TV Pink ima odlican program: Ceca i Jelena, Pivo se hladi u frizideru. Kolone: cega, kakve kolone?, neki su me pitali. Ja sam totalno "pala u nesvest" kada mi je neko rekao da je sve to "njihova krivica" i da mi sa tim nemamo nikakve veze. To sto su oni dosli u Srbiju, na takav nacin, je valjda bila planirana turisticka poseta, u Milosevicevom aranzmanu.

Prvo sam mislila: dacu pare. Pa sam krenula autom po autoputu, ali to se pokazalo komplikovanijim nego sto sam ja zamisljala. Kolona je i dalje tuzno prolazila: sporo i naprono putovanje se nije zavrsavalo u Beogradu. Na izlazu sa Gazele je stajao policajac, koji traktorima nije dozvoljavao da skrenu sa autoputa. Mogli su samo napred, agonija se nastavljala, Beograd ih nije hteo.

Otisla sam u radnju: kupila hranu za bebe, pelene, spakovala nesto decije garderobe, i odnela sve u Crveni Krst. Uopste nisam bila uverena da ce sve to sto sam odnela stici do onih kojima sam ja to namenila. Atmosfera mracna da mracnija ne moze da bude. Svi se prave ludi, kao da se nista ne desava. Ja pocnjem da mislim da sa mnom nesto nije u redu. Moja bivsa svekrva mi to potvrdjuje. Ona volontira u Crvenom Krstu, i tvrdi da su svi dobili po veknu hleba!!!! I sta se ja tu sada petljam u nesto sto se mene uopste ne tice. Ima ko da vodi racuna o situaciji. Ja bolje da gledam svoja posla. Da nisam lepo vaspitana, svasta sam htela da joj kazem u vezi vekne hleba i situacije. Ali ona nije bila jedina. Svi, ali svi do jednog su se pravili blesavi. A ja, ja sam polako pocela da se osecam kao totalni stranac.

Pad Krajine, i patnja naroda u koloni, ucinila je da se mentalno totalno odvojim od Srbije, i da nikada vise ne pomislim na nostalgican nacin o Beogradu. Njegovi stanovnici, bez trunke empatije, bez trunke ljudskog saosecanja, bez trunke kajanja, bez trunke plemenitosti, su me zauvek izgubili.

I to nista nikada nece moci da promeni!

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Radovan Karadzic

Recently I had a conversation with a Sarajevo siege (1992-1996) survivor. She vividly remembers snipers, constant shelling, some moments when she was not sure whether she should wait for death to come to her, or go towards it. In those moments, while deciding “to go, or not to go” outside, she was counting on her intuition. That was all she had to defend herself from the monsters on the hills.
Only a few days ago, and after 13 years in hiding, one of the most notorious perpetuators of some of the worst crimes against humanity, including the siege of Sarajevo, indicted war criminal Radovan Karadzic, was arrested in Belgrade. Living an inconspicuous life of an ordinary citizen, he was climbing the ladder in alternative medicine world, where he was accomplished member of the community. Nobody, even his closest friend, and neighbours, did not know who was hiding behind the “Santa Clause” beard.
Ironically, he already had been thought of as Santa Clause once before. It was in the interview that he gave to late Serbian journalist Dada Vujasinovic. This somewhat prophetic interview was published in Belgrade magazine “Duga” in November of 1992.
Long before the full impact of Radovan Karadzic actions were known to the world, and while he was still able to travel abroad, and attend international meetings on Bosnian war, Vujasinovic was able to paint a portrait or Radovan Karadzic as the politician, poet and psychiatrist, who was not shy to think of himself as a rebel from the mountains (hajduk), who was “creating a brand new state”. But when he decided not to be a “hajduk” anymore, Vujasinovic describes him as Santa Clause (Deda Mraz) who was willing to give some territories, held by Serbs, to Bosnians. He claimed at the time, that Serbs were in possession of 70 percent of territory in Bosnia, and they were willing to give back 20 percent. Vujasinovic was contemplating on this seemingly generous behavior: was it “generosity”, or sense of reality? After all, Serbian people constituted one third of population that was holding onto two thirds of territory, and Karadzic would have had a legitimate concern about how to keep those territories. But in Karadzic’s world there was little place for reality.
This depression prone man was already devoted to the idea of the “Great Serbia” that was masterminded in Belgrade. He was so convincing that, even in his doctor’s office, while treating others for depression, he would spread the ideas about Serbian “uebermensh”. Soon he started touring Bosnia and promoting the idea of Serbs as people who need to defend themselves lest history be repeated. Reminding Serbian people in Bosnia and Herzegovina of unthinkable atrocities committed in WWII by Ustashe (extremist Croatian army) who tortured and murdered thousands of Serbs, either in concentration camps, or by slashing their throats and throwing them in pits, became the tool to organize his followers, and fasten the nationalistic rule. He enlisted “help” from clergy of the Serbian Orthodox Church to organize proper burial of the victims of one of Ustashe’s atrocities in the tiny village of Prebilovci in Herzegovina, although in the fifty years following WWII the very same church showed little or no interest in commemorating the victims. “Ironically”, Dada Vujasinovic wrote, “this event, that was supposed to be dignified, turned out to become somewhat like a village fair.” Nevertheless, the goal was accomplished, and Radovan Karadzic “scored” more points in the world of those who glorified the martyrdom of the innocent Ustashe victims by using it to stir nationalistic and chauvinistic feelings. Later, these feelings will be used as a weapon to commit more crimes and to cause more deaths.
But the profile of Radovan Karadzic would not be complete if we did not mention his literary carrier. The self-proclaimed poet, as Vujasinovc wrote, was mediocre in his endeavors. Verses such a s: “He is lying now dead as such sheep’s skin, murdered without bullet or knife” were showing that his poetry lacked the depth and significance of great poets, and he was probably aware of that, somewhat like Salieri’s awareness of Mozart greatness. Nevertheless, Karadzic was not the kind of man who would admit that anything that he did was unacceptable, including his poetry, siege of Sarajevo, or how he treated his patients. Even to this day, he does not seem to show any remorse or feeling of guilt for the horrible atrocities committed under his rule.
Dada Vujasinovic wrote in the conclusion of her interview: “Time will show whether Karadzic chose the correct way to ‘protect’ his people, as well as whether he will be “hajduk”, Santa Clause, statesman, or something else”.
She did not know at that time, in 1992, but she was right: he became “something else”, an indicted war criminal.




About Dada Vujasinovic, author of “Hero of the wolf times” an in-depth interview with Radovan Karadzic, published in Belgrade magazine Duga, in November 1992.

Dada Vujasinovic was born in 1964 in former Yugoslavia. She became reporter with Belgrade magazine Duga in 1990. In her short, but turbulent carrier as a war reporter she was able to produce series of unbiased articles on the war in Croatia and Bosnia, and interviews, among which are two interviews with Radovan Karadzic: one in 1991 and second in 1992. She was also known as an investigative journalist, probing the connection between the war and criminals in Serbia. She was murdered in Belgrade in 1994. Her death was officially ruled by Milosevic regime as “suicide”. Recently new evidence was provided that undoubtfully point to murder. Investigation into her death was reopened several times in last 14 years, but no official results have not been published so far.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Graduation


Aleksandar is now graduate of Grade school. The name of his school is Bessborough Public School. It is more than 70 years old. Aleksandar attended Bessborough since he was grade 4. It is all together 5 years. The longest period that he belonged to one community. He was excited about graduation, and about the dance after. The dance was organized in the place called "Loots" on Bayview Avenue. When I came to pick him up, his tie was in the pocket of his jacket, that we had to look for, since he forgot where he left it. Well, just not used to wearing a jacket. He also thought that he lost the cell phone, but he did not. Everything was alright. He asked Taylor to dance with him. At first she said: Later, and then she said: No. I told him to keep on trying. One day the girl will dance with him, I am sure. But, for now, it must be very disappointing for him to encounter rejection from the girl that he really likes. We all know how it feels. Still, I try to instill in him: keep your friends close, but your family closer.

Congratulations Aleks!!!!

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Aleksandar

Why I am proud to be Aleksandar’s mother:

Because Aleksandar is generous and kind
Because he always tries hard to do his best
Because Aleksandar genuinely cares about those less fortunate than him
Because he is sincere and honest
Because he will go places
Because he is easy going and witty
Because he is my only son and I will always remember
How happy I was when I saw him for the first time.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL, SMART AND WONDERFUL SON!

Friday, February 22, 2008

Beograd, februar 2008.

...Odrasli u bedi i porazu, pijanstvu, tuci i zlostavljanju, u gadostima i ocaju koji su svakodnevno ruzili povesti krezubih staraca o vremenu ponosnih ratnika, o mitskom dobu vraceva koji su krotili kosmicku silu po imenu wakana i jahali na njenim talasima, ogorceni beskrajnim osluskivanjem sina koje nikada nisu nosile kompoziciju punu duhova osvetnika, mladici su bili lak plen za sumanute ideje vraca Zute ptice. Zuta ptica, po svoj prilici vest demagog i madjionicar solidnih sposobnosti, uspeo je da ubedi nekolicinu snaznih i ne bas promocurnih momaka da ih ezotericna varijanta plesa duhova oblaci u narocite kosulje, nevidljive "duhovne kosulje", tajno oruzje Sijuksa. Duhovne kosulje brzo su usle u modu, formirala se kriticna masa sledbenika. Ako nemas duhovnu kosulju, govorilo se, ti nisi nikakav Sijuks, ti si obicna jegulja. U narednoj fazi organizovao je odrede nepobedivih ratnika koji su verovali da im puske ne mogu nista. Cak su i stari, mada nisu odbravali vraceve lazi, govorili da mozda nema niceg loseg u tome da ljudi ponovo osete gordost Sijuksa, da pronadju pricu koja ce im dati snagu. U pricama se, govorili su, krije velika moc. I bili su u pravu.

Jer dogodilo se tako da je vest o ratnim igrama grupe mladih Indijanaca 1890. stigla do neke izovlovane jedinice americke armije,------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------kada su kod Ranjenog kolena naisli na Zutu pticu i njegove ratnike ( u nevidljivim duhovnim kosuljama), zapucali su bez suvisnih pitanja. Sijuksi su srljali na kursume, verujuci u magiju svog vraca. Poginulo ih je vise od dve stotine.

Iz knjige "Kisa i hartija" Vladimira Tasica

Saturday, February 9, 2008

10. februar 2008





Danas je Dadin rodjendan. Doduse, kod mene jos uvek nije deseti, jos uvek je deveti, ali racunam evropsko vreme. Dva datuma se racunaju kada nekog vise nema: datum rodjenja i datum smrti. Kada nekog vise nema medju nama, obicno se obelezava datum smrti. Ja zelim da proslavim datum Dadinog rodjenja. Hladni kamen ispod kojeg pociva moja jedina sestra je mesto gde je smesteno njeno ovozemaljsko telo. Njena lepota i dobrota nikada nisu prestali da zive.

Dada je dobila ime Radislava po nasem tati. On je bio u vreme njenog rodjenja odsutan i u pismima je slao predloge imena za novog clana porodice. Mojoj mami se ta imena nisu dopala.



Porodicna legenda kaze da je odluku donela baka Ceca: neka se zove Radislava po ocu Radislavu. Nije tesko zamisliti zasto je odmah dobila nadimak Dada. Kazu da sam je ja tako prozvala. Nas dve smo se uvek slatko smejale ovoj fotografiji.


Smejale smo se jer je zid iz nas bio zreo za krecenje, a nas dve zagrljene poziramo, kao da smo u nekom ekskluzivnom studiju.

Ovo je tipicna Dada: ja je se uvek secam takve. Spremne da se nasmeje, da bude vrag, da zraci jednom toplom energijom, i da ostavlja utisak nekoga na koga moze da se racuna i u dobru i u zlu.



Moja jedina seja Dada je ostavila ogromnu prazninu svojim odlaskom. I, evo, skoro ce cetrnaesta godina kako nije vise sa nama, ali ja je se jasno i cisto secam.

Ovu stranicu posvecujem mojim roditeljima. Mojim hrabrim i pozrtvovanim roditeljima.
Ponos i tuga su dve reci koje idu zajedno ovog dana - 10. februara.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Office Politics

OK. I lived long enough to find out that the name of the game is "winning at office politics".

I decided to stop going through the walls.

It is never too late to change.

I announce today, I am going to be a winner at office politics. I will enlist all the help I can find: resources within myself, talking to people who know more about this than me, reading books and attending seminars.

If a year from now I am still in the same position, hang me up side down on the tree branch somewhere far away and leave me there. This is how determined I am now to make this big change.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Prvi januar


Belt Line Trail, Toronto. Jos uvek nije mnogo hladno. Nocas ce temperatura da padne cak do -26 stepeni. Setnja do Daviseville TTC depoa. Sutra je radni dan. Vozovi parkirani. Milina bozija. Mir i belina.

Na TV-u pokazuju beskucnike. Neki od njih kazu da nece ici u svratiste za beckucnike nocas, ma koliko da bude hladno. Kakav izazov. Ponos. Ne pristaju da ih tretiraju kao stoku. Sledeca slika je prvo rodjena beba u Torontu, i tako dalje. Uobicajene novogodisnje vesti: svuda su iste.

2008



Srecna Nova Godina!

Ove godine sam docekala NG sa malo manje pompe i euforije nego pre. Doduse sa prskalicom u ruci: valjda ce doneti srecu.

Ilustracija je klopa, jer NG se vrti oko klope i pica. Posle dodje 1. januar. E, najbolje zurke su bile prvog januara. Na reprizi doceka. Valjda smo svi bili previse napeti za novogodisnju noc, da nesto pogresno ne uradimo i ne pokvarimo novogodisnje raspolozenje, tako da je 1. januar pravo opustanje. Ne moras da se sekiras ni zbog cega i onda dobro raspolozenje dodje samo od sebe.

Dakle, srecna Nova Godina uz moj izbor pesama.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKRaXPYSzKY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kL0WFcygdWY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcEm3Tbp6No