I spent a lot of time wondering how to
write about refugees. I was a high school teacher for about ten
years, and during that time I taught a lot of Somali students
(there's a large Somali community in Ottawa.) What I found was that
there was often a big difference between how the boys and girls did
in school: the girls, typically thrived, seeming generally happy and
well-integrated and often excelling academically; the boys, on the
other hand, quite often seemed as though they weren't really there
– they weren't discipline problems, generally, but they were very
disconnected from school both socially and academically. There were
probably a lot of reasons for this, but I think one of them was that
they had different feelings of what was expected of them: the girls
were allowed to succeed, but among the boys there was a sense that
there being in Canada was only temporary, and that succeeding here
would be almost a betrayal of their duty to eventually return home
and rebuild their country.
I
wanted to explore this dilemma – the tension between wanting to succeed in your new country and your duty to your home country – but but I felt uncomfortable writing about Somalis
(or any group of real-life refugees) for a number of reasons: partly because I didn't feel it was my story to tell, but also
because I wanted to write
something that was more broadly about the personal question than this
specific situation. It wasn't until I read Robert Charles Wilson's A Bridge of Years, in which a
man from our time seeks refuge in the 1960s – and a soldier from a dystopian future flees to our time – that I got
the idea of reversing that and having the refugees come from the past. Even after that,
though, the story was slow to come, and it was only when I realized
that Geoff should himself be a prefugee that it finally came alive
for me. (I had to fudge my Latin a bit because of that: “Galfridius”
is not a real Roman name but a latinization of the name Geoffrey. I
also fudged the whole verbs-at-the-end-of-sentences bit, which wasn't
actually how Romans talked but gave the prefugees a distinctive
speech pattern and was a bit of an in-joke for fellow Latin
students.)
Sources:
Paul
Veyne et al, A History of Private Life, Volume 1: From Pagan Rome toByzantium.
The
“mice” dish really exists; I got it from Jane Renfrew's Roman
Cookery, but you can get a
recipe at http://eirny.com/2013/03.
All
Latin in the story comes courtesy of Mr. Savage's Latin class at
Glebe Collegiate Institute though, as always, any mistakes are my
own.
#SFWAPro
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