Journal articles on the topic 'Sentiment de culpabilité'

Des études antérieures relèvent que le sentiment de culpabilité est un facteur associé aux répercussions de l’agression sexuelle (AS) chez les survivants adultes (Cantón-Cortés, Cantón, Justicia et Cortés, 2011). Toutefois, très peu d’études ont exploré le rôle potentiel du sentiment de culpabilité sur les symptômes chez les enfants victimes. L’objectif de cette recherche est d’étudier le rôle médiateur de l’évitement dans la relation entre le sentiment de culpabilité et les symptômes associés à l’AS (anxiété et estime de soi). L’échantillon est composé de 447 enfants victimes d'AS (319 filles et 128 garçons), âgés de 6 à 12 ans. Les résultats des analyses acheminatoires indiquent que les enfants révélant davantage de culpabilité par rapport à la situation d’AS présentent un niveau plus élevé d’anxiété et une plus faible estime d’eux-mêmes. Un effet indirect a également été observé et montre que le sentiment de culpabilité est lié à l’utilisation de stratégies d’évitement, qui en retour exacerbent les symptômes d’anxiété et contribuent à une plus faible estime de soi. Le modèle, qui s’ajuste aux données de manière équivalente pour les filles et les garçons, permet d’expliquer 24,4 % de la variance des symptômes d’anxiété et 11,2 % de la variance de l’estime de soi. Ces résultats laissent entendre que le sentiment de culpabilité pourrait constituer une cible d’intervention pertinente pour les enfants victimes d’AS.

L’annonce d’une maladie rare chez un enfant est le début d’un chemin long et tortueux, pour lui et pour ses proches. Généralement, les parents apprennent la maladie de leur enfant alors que ce dernier est encore un nourrisson en bonne santé. Les réactions des familles face à l’annonce du diagnostic sont très variables. Certains parents semblent accepter la maladie souvent comme forme de soumission au « maktoub » (fatalisme), d’autres à l’extrême, se séparent dans la douleur et la culpabilité peu de temps après l’annonce, ou même après des années de souffrance. Mais dans tous les cas, l’histoire de la famille semble s’articuler autour de la révélation de la maladie, pour laquelle, rappelons le, les symptômes sont invisibles, ce qui laisse une place importante aux fantasmes les plus redoutables. Les sentiments d'insécurité, de précarité en face d’un tel dilemme s’installent, et la nécessité d’avoir du temps pour faire le deuil de l’enfant classique, normal font aggraver le vécu de la famille, qui s’apprête –comme un système en évolution- à faire face à un déséquilibre systémique. Souvent ce n’est pas tellement les difficultés ou les handicaps de l’enfant qui sont difficiles pour les parents, mais le fait qu’il soit malade, qu’ils n’arrivent pas à assimiler les effets secondaires des médicaments, qu’ils sont incapables de prévoir son avenir. Donner la vie et la maladie est un paradoxe difficile à vivre dans ce genre de situation. Un suivi médical s’inscrit dans la durée (bilans annuels, soins), et dans de rares services hospitaliers, il est possible pour les familles de rencontrer le psychologue lorsqu’elles le souhaitent. Le soutien psychologique est fort recommandé devant un vécu qui dévie entre un sentiment de culpabilité intense et un sentiment d’impuissance et de soumission devant la maladie qui peut vouer à l’échec tout le processus de prise en charge médicale.

This paper entitled "Writers and Translators: from guilt to gratitude" attempts to switch the emphasis from concept and percept on affect in translation studies. It aims at replacing the translator in all his indissociated roles — reader, critic, interpreter, translator and writer — right within the hazardous responsibility for sense and signification input. It is based on the confessions of some renowned French writers — Jean Anouilh, Gérard de Nerval and André Gide — who described the unspoken hardships, loneliness, feelings of guilt and gratitude while translating the very specially inspired giants of universal literature, respectively Shakespeare, Goethe and Rabindranath Tagore. The main idea developed here is that it is certainly more straining, overwhelming and challenging to be the translators of such fabulous masterpieces than being mere writers. For what is at stake for these translators is less equating or overpassing the linguistic means of expression in the original works than meeting the processes of human mind through the exploration of the authors' conscience. In other words, no aesthetic purpose or emotional beauty in translation can be efficiently rendered without the translators peeping into the authors' personal and secret mythology in order to find out the very principles of the creative work's genesis. Translation is also shown as an interactive author-translator's mutual appreciation, both moral and intellectual, the everlasting intellectual balance residing in a fair play between objectivity and subjectivity.

Résumé Après la signature du Traité de Versailles, à la suite de la première guerre mondiale, le Ministère des Affaires étrangères de l'Allemagne mena une véritable campagne de propagande contre l'article 231 de ce traité qui, à ses yeux, était de nature à engendrer un sentiment de culpabilité en Allemagne parce qu'il constituait une certaine condamnation morale du peuple allemand. L'auteur se penche ici sur les moyens qu'ont pris, tour à tour, le Kriegsschuldreferat (Section étudiant la culpabilité face à la guerre), le Zentralstelle fur Erforschung der Khegsursachen (Centre d'étude des causes de la guerre) ainsi que le comité directeur de toute cette entreprise, soit le Arbeitsausschuss Deutscher Verbande (Comité de coordination des Associations allemandes) pour enrayer ce sentiment de culpabilité que ressentait le peuple allemand vis-à-vis de la guerre. Selon lui, il est difficile d'évaluer le succès de cette campagne de propagande tellement il y a d'éléments divers qui s'y sont greffés; cependant, elle s'intègre fort bien dans le mouvement révisionniste que l'on observe à l'époque tant en Europe qu'en Amérique; de plus, certains estiment même qu'elle a contribué à accroître l'impopularité déjà grandissante du Traité de Versailles en ce début des années 1920.

Le parler des jeunes qui se développe intensément dans les banlieues depuis les années 90 trouve sa place dans le roman contemporain. Les auteurs analysés se focalisent sur les contraintes sentimentales que les adolescents rencontrent dans les banlieues avec leurs codes et leurs rites. La recherche, qui s’inscrit dans les études de genre, révèle la tension entre le sentiment d’amour que l’adolescent a du mal à verbaliser et l’acte sexuel associé à la transgression d’un tabou côté filles et à l’affirmation de la masculinité côté garçons. Les garçons adoptent un comportement sexuel agressif, cachent ou dominent les sentiments perçus comme un signe de faiblesse. Chez les filles la sexualité provoque un sentiment de culpabilité en raison d’une domination masculine abusive, de la violence sexiste et sexuelle envers elles. Pour gagner en liberté et en respect elles deviennent aussi viriles que les garçons. L’amour est un thème relativement nouveau dans la représentation de la banlieue qui n’est plus uniquement considérée comme un lieu de violence, de conflit mais aussi comme un univers relationnel complexe.

Les personnes atteintes de brûlures vivent un traumatisme qui se double d’une image corporelle modifiée et de risques de séquelles graves. Elles auront toujours besoin du soutien d’autrui, et celui apporté par la famille se révèle le plus important dans le processus de leur réadaptation. Devant cette situation, les proches se sentent démunis et éprouvent un sentiment d’impuissance et de culpabilité. Ils ont besoin d’assistance pour être capables de bien vivre cette expérience. Cet article présente la problématique des personnes atteintes de brûlures et l’intervention psychosociale telle que proposée par l’Association des grands brûlés FLAM à ses membres. FLAM constitue un organisme communautaire dont le but est spécifiquement d’œuvrer auprès de la clientèle des personnes qui ont été gravement brûlées.

Les études sur les jeunes survivants de conflits armés et de violence politique viennent approfondir un domaine d’intérêt grandissant en criminologie. À cet égard, cet article met en lumière comment certains facteurs de protection ont pu favoriser la réinstallation au Canada d’une trentaine de « Lost Boys and Girls of Sudan », des jeunes réfugiés séparés de leurs familles en raison de la guerre au Sud-Soudan. L’analyse préliminaire d’entrevues individuelles et de groupes de discussion menés avec ces jeunes permet d’éclairer le rôle joué par des facteurs de protection qu’ils ont eux-mêmes cernés, notamment le désir de devenir de « bons citoyens », leur débrouillardise et leurs perspectives d’avenir, la culpabilité du survivant et le sentiment de responsabilité envers le pays d’origine, les familles de substitution et le capital affectif, le capital social et religieux ainsi que l’étiquette même de « Lost Boys and Girls ».

L’objectif de cet article consiste à identifier les enjeux de la différenciation selon le genre dans l’accompagnement collectif de la femme potentiellement créatrice. A partir d’une démarche abductive, nous montrons que la mise en place de collectifs de femmes, dans la phase ante-création, est génératrice de confiance en soi. Le caractère bienveillant, empathique et non compétitif du groupe exclusivement féminin facilite, pour certaines femmes candidates à la création, la déconstruction de stéréotypes de genre sur l’entrepreneuriat féminin et atténue le sentiment de culpabilité lié à la difficulté à concilier projet entrepreneurial et vie familiale. En d’autres termes, la participation de la femme potentiellement créatrice à un collectif féminin répond à un besoin psychologique d’approbation externe qui peut faire défaut, notamment au sein de la famille. Toutefois, la pratique de l’accompagnement collectif au féminin dans la phaseante-création présente certaines limites. Ces dernières résultent de l’importance accordée par certaines femmes à la mise en place d’un environnement mixte pour le partage d’expériences entrepreneuriales diverses et le développement de réseaux d’affaires.

Résumé Cette recherche socio-évaluative avait pour objectif d'évaluer l'impact de l'intervention marrainage-jumelage et d'identifier les dimensions sociales particulières à la clientèle desservie par le Groupe Les Relevailles. Cet organisme accorde un soutien d'ordre psychologique aux mères demandant de l'aide à la suite de difficultés d'adaptation occasionnées par la naissance d'un enfant. La socialisation des femmes a «culturalisé» l'instinct maternel. Celui-ci est devenu un phénomène social comportant des modèles précis et c'est lorsque les mères n'arrivent pas à s'y conformer que les problèmes surviennent. Des entrevues dirigées furent réalisées auprès de treize clientes bénéficiaires et auprès de six bénévoles marraines. Les entrevues ont été effectuées aux domiciles des personnes et elles avaient une durée moyenne de deux heures. Il ressort une nette amélioration de l'état physique et psychologique des femmes à la suite du support apporté par les bénévoles marraines. Globalement, nous avons constaté une diminution du sentiment de culpabilité et une augmentation du sentiment de compétence et d'autonomie dans l'accomplissement du rôle de mère. Nous avons également observé que le réseau social et familial des clientes bénéficiaires est très faible. Ces mères avec de jeunes enfants vivent un isolement important. Ces femmes ont manifesté une prise de distance notable à l'égard de la représentation sociale de la mère parfaite. Nous avons aussi noté que les pratiques et les stratégies d'intervention du Groupe favorisent la diffusion d'un modèle de mère de nature émancipatrice pour les femmes; c'est-à-dire un rôle comportant des apprentissages qui ne doivent pas nier les autres besoins de la femme.

Le désir d’avoir un enfant est universel. Les récentes avancées en génétique ont donné naissance au test génétique prénatal. Le diagnostic prénatal classique ou préimplantatoire permet de déceler des anomalies au stade foetal ou préembryonnaire. Ce type de test génétique est offert aux parents « à risque » de donner naissance à un enfant atteint d’une maladie génétique grave cependant la demande est grandissante auprès des autres couples. Il y a diverses pressions (directes ou indirectes) qui poussent les parents à recourir à ce type d’examen. La pression de la société et même l’État pousse les parents à se soumettre au test qui est une source importante de stress. La pression établit une normativité et renforce les préjugés envers les handicapés et influence la prise de décision des parents face au résultat. L’équipe médicale exerce une influence et le sentiment de culpabilité de mettre un enfant malade au monde hante les parents. Bien que les progrès de la génétique ont plusieurs avantages comme de permettre à des couples qui sans le dépistage prénatal n’auraient pas eu d’enfant la liberté de procréer doit rester au premier plan.

Résumé Enfant, infans : celui « qui ne parle pas ». Qui ne se laisse pas écrire. C’est vers ce mutisme et cette résistance que Nathalie Sarraute procède, péniblement, à écrire son récit d’enfance, « une enfance qui n’est pas un âge de la vie et qui ne passe pas. Elle hante le discours » (Lyotard). C’est un discours rapporté par la voix narratrice. L’enfance de « Natacha » est déjà tortillée, déchirée, donc loin de cette image de « pureté », d’« innocence » ; la narration de cette enfance devient ainsi plurielle, ramifiée, morcelée. D’où les repentirs : d’une part, le sentiment d’impuissance, d’échec, de culpabilité ; d’autre part, dans la terminologie de peinture, ce mot désigne « changement apporté, correction faite en cours d’exécution », donc entreprise toujours à reprendre, à repenser, à corriger et à défaire. L’écriture, en devenir, en mouvement, en transformation, laisse voir sa texture, son processus. Le procédé du repentir est souvent opéré par cette seconde voix dérangeante. C’est la voix critique au second degré, la mauvaise conscience à l’égard des « beaux souvenirs d’enfance ». La recherche de l’enfance, chez Sarraute, est moins une reconstitution de quelque unité qu’un dispositif de dispersion, d’éparpillement, de fragmentaire.

Peu d’analyses des premiers résultats ont été publiées sur la procédure de don d’organes dite Maastricht 3 (M3), mise en place en 2014 en France. Pourtant, cette procédure est soumise à un conflit d’intérêt intérieur pour le médecin qui devra éclaircir son désir d’être utile aux autres par le biais de la promotion du don d’organes sans que cela n’influence sa décision d’arrêt des traitements de l’éventuel patient donneur. Ceci, alors même que les moyens d’établir un pronostic sont souvent limités. Toute modification des pratiques liées à la fin de vie au cours de l’instauration de la procédure M3 – telles la politique d’admission des patients en réanimation, l’administration de la sédation ou encore la procédure de séparation du ventilateur – peut témoigner d’une volonté de maximisation de l’utilité à court terme de cette procédure. Le consentement des proches peut lui aussi se retrouver biaisé par une forte désirabilité sociale ou par un sentiment de culpabilité, et une évaluation sereine ne sera pas réalisée du fait de la rapidité de la procédure. L’éclairage des tensions philosophiques entre les pensées conséquentialistes et déontologiques, l’importance d’un débat dans chaque structure, une indication très restrictive aux patients anoxiques les plus graves, un contrôle a posteriori indépendant, font partie des solutions proposées dans cet article pour réduire ces problèmes. Alors que la « pénurie » actuelle liée au don d’organes pourrait être résolue par un meilleur taux d’acceptabilité de prélèvements de patients en état de mort encéphalique, se pose finalement la question d’un dépassement irrémédiable des limites éthiques qui garantissent le sens premier de l’engagement des professionnels auprès de leurs patients.

Le workaholism correspond à un dysfonctionnement affectif, cognitif et comportemental de l’individu à l’égard du travail. En se traduisant par un excès d’investissement pathologique dans l’activité professionnelle, nous interrogerons le fait qu’il puisse s’agir d’une « addiction au travail ». Il renvoie en effet à une culpabilité de ne pas être au travail, une pulsion irrépressible à travailler malgré le peu de plaisir éprouvé et une négligence de la vie extraprofessionnelle. Ses conséquences sont délétères y compris sur le travail avec une mauvaise intégration dans l’équipe de travail et une diminution des performances. Le workaholism peut entraîner également un syndrome d’épuisement professionnel, et la perte du sentiment de cohérence qu’il engendre est associée à une augmentation du risque de trouble de l’humeur, d’autres troubles addictifs, pouvant conduire parfois au suicide. Il existe des vulnérabilités individuelles mais aussi des risques organisationnels qu’il faut identifier pour préserver la santé psychologique au travail. Nous présenterons dans un premier temps une synthèse des travaux les plus récents, visant à montrer l’importance du contexte sociétal et organisationnel dans l’apparition du workaholism. Nous présenterons dans un second temps différentes stratégies thérapeutiques calquées sur celles utilisées dans d’autres addictions comportementales :– la thérapie rationnelle-émotive ciblée sur les croyances irrationnelles concernant le niveau de demande au travail ainsi que sur les émotions négatives ;– l’entretien motivationnel pour favoriser la prise de conscience des conséquences négatives du workaholism ;– la psychologie positive en aidant le sujet à s’extraire d’une vision réduite de sa propre vie pour en dégager des objectifs plus larges ;– la participation à des groupes de workaholics anonymes.

There is a tendency among those who identify themselves as subjectivists on the issue of defining criminal intent to dismiss or minimize the role of actual non-trivial harm in the determination of criminal liability and punishment. That is to say, they are those who argue that an individual’s subjective intent is a sufficient indication of potential dangerousness and culpability to justify punishment. In this essay, the author presents a view, based on Adam Smith’s recognition of the “irregularity of the sentiments,” that actual physical harm matters; that it reflects the negative component of the two great motivators, pleasure and pain; and that it can release the worst sort of emotional reactivity: retribution. The infliction of a non-trivial first order harm can invoke a deeply felt aesthetic reaction which, in turn, reflects our natural (and cognitively “irregular”) human sentiments. Trying to dispense with harm as a feature in our understanding of criminality seems prima facie absurd. Awareness of the sentiment, as Smith understood, helps temper the worst parts of our nature: that which hopes to crush the people and ideas we find threatening. Ironically, the existence of and need for harm as a necessary condition of criminality heightens our awareness of the limitations of reason in dealing with victims of crime. We are not simply cognitive creatures.

Résumé Dans cet article, l’auteure analyse et compare les représentations de la Shoah dans l’oeuvre poétique d’un écrivain québécois francophone non juif, Jacques Brault, et de deux écrivains anglo-québécois d’origine juive, Irving Layton et Leonard Cohen. Ces témoins indirects du génocide juif survenu en Europe le représentent indirectement, en articulant un rapport complexe entre les sentiments de culpabilité et de fraternité avec les victimes. L’auteure propose de montrer que c’est la mise à distance de leurs sujets poétiques qui autorise Brault, Layton et Cohen à aborder ce thème pour lequel les interdits théoriques abondent depuis la désormais célèbre formule d’Adorno : « Écrire de la poésie après Auschwitz est barbare. »

Sa propre mort est toujours une expérience troublante et mystérieuse. Celle des autres met en deuil dans la souffrance. Lorsque la mort est provoquée par le défunt lui-même, la situation est plus complexe, le deuil plus difficile. Certes tous les éléments du deuil et du travail de deuil habituels se retrouvent dans ces deuils traumatiques, mais ils comportent des aspects spécifiques : le suicide est encore considéré comme une mauvaise mort, ce qui risque de stigmatiser l’entourage. Il entraîne un état de choc et une dépression intenses. Les images traumatiques du défunt retardent le travail de deuil et torturent ceux qui les vivent. Les sentiments de culpabilité sont extrêmes. Ces deuils difficiles justifient un accompagnement approprié, surtout chez les enfants et adolescents.

The Military, Moral Injury, and Music Therapy Moral injury (MI), described as the consequences of being faced with morally ambiguous situations that can lead to inner conflict and guilt, is still in the beginnings of exploration. The literature states that the diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD) no longer fully encompasses the experiences or complex symptoms of our military service members and veterans. Thus, implicating the need for treatment interventions that provide specific focus on the symptoms of MI. Music therapy has been shown in the treatment of trauma and PTSD to provide unique access to the inner conflict and guilt of the individual in a non-intimidating and safe environment. Research has indicated a need for interventions for MI to focus on the integration of the traumatic experience and inner conflict/dissonance with the individual’s sense of self. Music therapy offers a potential avenue for treatment of MI through its versatile interventions. Increased awareness of this construct with music therapists working within the military milieu provides the potential for the development of MI specific interventions and further study.Keywords: Moral Injury (MI), Military, Music Therapy, PTSFrenchArmée, préjudice moral et musicothérapieL’étude du préjudice moral, décrit comme les conséquences d’une confrontation à des situations moralement ambigues qui peuvent conduire à un conflit interne et à un sentiment de culpabilité, en est encore à ses commencements.La littérature établit que le diagnostique de syndrome de stress post-traumatique n’intègre plus globalement les expériences ou symptomes complexes de nos militaires et vétérans. En impliquant le besoin en traitements présentant un intérêt particulier sur les symptômes de préjudice moral, il a alors été montré que la musicothérapie, dans le traitement du syndrome de stress post-traumatique pouvait donner accès de façon exceptionnelle au confit interne et au sentiment de culpabilité dans un environnement non intimidant et sécurisant.La recherche a indiqué le besoin en traitements du préjudice moral centrés sur l’intégration de l’expérience traumatique et du conflit interne/dissonnance avec le sens de soi individuel. La musicothérapie offre une piste potentielle pour le traitement du préjudice moral grâce à la souplesse de ses modèles d’interventions. La sensibilisation croissante au travail des musicothérapeutes dans le milieu militaire fournit de la matière pour le dévelopement de traitements spécifiques du préjudice moral pour de futures études.Mots clés : préjudice moral, armée, musicothérapie, stress post-traumatiqueGermanDas Militär, moralische Verletzungen und MusiktherapieAbstractMoralische Verletzungen (MI), die als Folgen vom Ausgesetzsein in moralisch zweideutigen Situationen beschrieben werden und zu inneren Konflikten und Schuldgefühlen führen, sind noch im Stadium der Exploration. In der Literatur wird festgestellt, dass die Diagnose PTSD die Erfahrungen oder die komplexen Symptome unserer militärischen Sicherheitskräfte und der Veteranen nicht länger ganz erfasst. Das impliziert die Notwendigkeit für Behandlungsinterventionen mit dem spezifischen Fokus auf die Symptome von MI. Musiktherapie zeigt in der Behandlung von Trauma und PTSD in einer nicht einschüchternden und sicheren Umgebung einen einzigartigen Zugang zu inneren Konflikten und Schuldgefühlen des Menschen. Die Forschung belegt die Notwendigkeit bei MI einzugreifen, und die traumatischen Erlebnisse und inneren Konflikte/Dissonanzen über das individuelle Selbstwertgefühl zu integrieren. Musiktherapie bieten durch vielseitige Interventionen einen wirkungsvollen Weg, um MI zu behandeln. Eine erhöhte Aufmerksamkeit auf Musiktherapeuten, die innerhalb des militärischen Milieus arbeiten stellt ein Potential bereit, um MI spezifische Interventionen zu entwickeln und zu beforschen.Keywords: Moralische Verletzungen (MI), Militär, Musiktherapie, PTSJapanese要旨】モラルインジュリー（MI）は、精神的な葛藤や罪悪感を引き起こすような道徳的に解釈困難な状況に直面した結果であると記述されているが、その入念な調査は始まったばかりである。学術論文は、PTSDという診断だけでは軍のメンバーや退役軍人の経験や複雑な症状を十分に包括しているとは言えないと言明している。ゆえに、MIの症状に特別に焦点をおいた介入が治療として施行されることが必要である。音楽療法は、トラウマとPTSDの治療において、恐れを感じさせず安全な環境の中で精神的葛藤や罪悪感に 持つ個人に独特のアクセスができることが示されている。研究は、トラウマ体験や精神的葛藤／不調和の自己意識の統一に焦点を当てることがMIへの介入の必要性を示唆している。音楽療法は、その多面的な介入によって MIの治療に可能性ある手法を提供する。軍環境で働く音楽療法士達とこの考えへの認識を増加させることは、MI特有の介入と先行研究発展の可能性を提供する。【キーワード】モラルインジュリー (MI)、軍、音楽療法、PTS Chinese精神損害(MI)，被描述為面臨道德模糊的狀況後所導致的內在衝突與內疚感，目前仍在有待被探索的初始階段。文獻指出，創傷後壓力症候群的診斷不再能完全涵蓋服役中或退伍軍人的經驗與複雜症狀，從而突顯出在治療中針對精神損害的症狀進行處遇的需求。音樂治療在創傷與創傷後壓力症候群的治療中已被證實能提供一個獨特的管道，在不具威脅性的安全環境中處理個人內在衝突與內疚感。研究指出對精神損害的處遇應聚焦於將創傷經驗及內在衝突/不和諧與個人自我感覺的整合。音樂治療透過其多元途徑將提供精神損害的治療一條有潛力的道路。在軍事相關環境下工作的音樂治療師若能對此一主題增進了解，將有助於提供針對精神損害治療的方法與未來研究發展的潛力。

Les avantages de l’allaitement maternel sur la santé des nourrissons sont établis par de nombreuses études scientifiques. Par contre, des sentiments de culpabilité et d’échec peuvent être ressentis chez les mères qui choisissent des alternatives à l’allaitement maternel exclusif. Cet enjeu soulève l’importance de comprendre le vécu de ces mères qui évoluent en marge des politiques publiques et des pratiques de soin actuellement en faveur de l’allaitement maternel exclusif. Cette recherche qualitative présente l’analyse situationnelle des parcours de neuf mères ayant choisi des alternatives à l’allaitement maternel, interrogées sous forme d’entrevues semi-dirigées. Les résultats décrivent les processus décisionnels du choix alternatif à l’allaitement, situent ce choix à travers un ensemble de soins culturellement congruent à l’allaitement et positionne ce choix au regard de la norme sociale de l’allaitement. La discussion présente les processus de négociation et de résistance mobilisés par les mères concernant les différentes normes reliées à l’allaitement.

ResuméLa confrontation à la mort d’un enfant, à la souff rance de sa famille, aux limites et possibilités de la médecine, aux dilemmes éthiques, au sentiment de culpabilité sont des éléments présents dans la prise en charge palliative pour les professionnels de santé qui s’engagent à travailler dans ce domaine. Il s’agit de diff érents facteurs qui interagissent à diff érents moments de la prise en charge et qui contribuent pour tisser un parcours de formation composé à la fois par les expériences formelles et informelles inscrites dans le quotidien du travail. Afi n de réfl échir sur les apprentissages acquis à partir de la temporalité et de la spatialité inscrite dans ce type de soin, cet article a pour but présenter les résultats d’un travail de recherche mené dans un service de réanimation pédiatrique à Paris dont les participants ont été les professionnels de santé de l’équipe médicale et paramédicale. Il s’agit d’une recherche qualitative, de base anthropologique où l’approche biographique a été mise en relation avec les observations participantes, ainsi qui a guidé de façon épistémologique et méthodologique la réalisation des entretiens biographiques non directifs avec les professionnels. Les résultats montrent qu’il y a une dynamique qui se tisse entre la temporalité de la maladie de l’enfant, l’accompagnement de la famille et la prise de décision par l’équipe biomédicale qui fait émerger un espace producteur des apprentissages. Dans cet espace s’inscrit des apprentissages autour de la dynamique du travail en équipe, du dialogue, de la réflexion qui favorisent le développement et la consolidation d’une approche éthique autour du soin palliatif.Mots clés: Soin palliatif. Apprentissage. Expérience, Biographisation.A abordagem biográfi ca e a temporalidade dos cuidados paliativos para crianças portadoras de doenças crônicas: aprendizados que se tecem entre a vida e a morteResumoA confrontação à morte de uma criança, ao sofrimento da sua família, aos limites e possibilidades da medicina, aos dilemas éticos, ao sentimento de culpa são elementos presentes no cuidado paliativo para os profissionais de saúde que se engajam neste campo. Tratam-se de múltiplos fatores que interagem em diferentes momentos do cuidado e contribuem para tecer uma trajetória de formação composta tanto por experiências formais, quanto informais inscritas no quotidiano do trabalho. Com vistas a refletir sobre os aprendizados adquiridos a partir das dimensões de espaço e tempo inscritos nesse tipo de cuidado, o presente artigo tempo como objetivo apresentar os resultados de um trabalho de pesquisa realizado com os profissionais de saúde em um serviço de cuidados intensivos em Paris/ França. Trata-se de uma pesquisa qualitativa, de base antropológica e biográfica, na qual foram conjugadas observações participantes com entrevistas biográficas não diretivas com os profissionais. Os resultados mostram que há uma dinâmica que se constrói entre a temporalidade da doença na criança, o acompanhamento da família e as tomadas de decisões pela equipe biomédica que contribui para erigir um espaço produtor de aprendizagens. Neste espaço inscrevem-se aprendizados em torno da dinâmica do trabalho em equipe, do dialogo, da reflexão que favorecem o desenvolvimento e a consolidação de uma abordagem ética do cuidado paliativo.Palavras-chave: Cuidado paliativo. Aprendizado. Experiência. Biografização.The biographical approach and the temporality of palliative care for children with chronic diseases: learning that weaves between life and deathAbstractConfrontation with the death of a child, the suffering of his family, the limits and possibilities of medicine, the ethical dilemmas, the feeling of guilt are elements present in palliative care for health professionals who engage in this field. These are multiple factors that interact at different times of care and contribute to weave a training path composed of both formal and informal experiences inscribed in the daily work. In order to reflect on the lessons learned from the dimensions of space and time inscribed in this type of care, this article aims to present the results of a research work carried out with health professionals in an intensive care service in Paris. / France. This is a qualitative, anthropological and biographical research, in which participant observations were combined with non-directive biographical interviews with professionals. The results show that there is a dynamic that is built between the temporality of the disease in children, family monitoring and decision making by the biomedical team that contributes to erect a learning space. In this space we learn about the dynamics of teamwork, dialogue, reflection that favor the development and consolidation of an ethical approach to palliative care.Keywords: Palliative care. Learning. Experience. Biographization.El enfoque biográfi co y la temporalidad de los cuidados paliativos para niños con enfermedades crónicas: aprendizaje que teje entre la vida y la muerteResumenLa confrontación con la muerte de un niño, el sufrimiento de su familia, los límites y las posibilidades de la medicina, los dilemas éticos, el sentimiento de culpa son elementos presentes en los cuidados paliativos para los profesionales de la salud que participan en este campo. Estos son múltiples factores que interactúan en diferentes momentos de la atención y contribuyen a tejer un camino de capacitación compuesto por experiencias formales e informales inscritas en el trabajo diario. Con el fin de reflexionar sobre las lecciones aprendidas de las dimensiones de espacio y tiempo inscritas en este tipo de atención, este artículo tiene como objetivo presentar los resultados de un trabajo de investigación llevado a cabo con profesionales de la salud en un servicio de cuidados intensivos en París. / Francia. Esta es una investigación cualitativa, antropológica y biográfica, en la que las observaciones de los participantes se combinaron con entrevistas biográficas no directivas con profesionales. Los resultados muestran que existe una dinámica que se construye entre la temporalidad de la enfermedad en los niños, el monitoreo familiar y la toma de decisiones por parte del equipo biomédico que contribuye a erigir un espacio de aprendizaje. En este espacio aprendemos sobre la dinámica del trabajo en equipo, el diálogo, la reflexión que favorecen el desarrollo y la consolidación de un enfoque ético de los cuidados paliativos.Palabras clave: Cuidados paliativos. Aprendizaje. Experiencia. Biografía.

Résumé Bien que Louise Dupré soit connue surtout comme poète et comme romancière, son texte pour le théâtre, Tout comme elle, mis en scène par Brigitte Haentjens en 2006, a été très apprécié par le public et par la critique. L’étude du texte porte sur les marques énonciatives chargées de rendre les rapports difficiles entre une mère et sa fille, puis entre celle-ci et sa propre fille. Dans les quarante-huit scènes tirées de la vie ordinaire des trois personnages, les échanges sont lourds de non-dits hostiles : regards perdus au loin ou obliques, sentiments haineux, colères inavouées et violences contenues… L’analyse de certaines marques, subtiles et discrètes, révèle des désirs ambivalents et des confusions identitaires, qui manifestent peu à peu l’emprise qu’une mère peut exercer sur sa fille, tant par son mutisme que par les rêves et ambitions qu’elle projette sur elle. Devenue mère à son tour, la fille passe de l’admiration et de la soumission — éducation solide, bons soins maternels, profession respectable — à une plus grande distance avec sa mère, et elle constate que la dette et la culpabilité se sont transformées en colère, en mélancolie. Cela aura des effets dévastateurs sur sa relation avec sa propre fille. L’échange de rôles et le jeu de miroirs jettent un éclairage ironique sur l’ensemble et font ressortir que, pour que cesse la douleur immémoriale de la mère comme de la fille, le détachement, le renoncement à la toute-puissance et l’acquiescement à la solitude sont nécessaires. Sans recourir de façon didactique aux bons sentiments, la pièce se présente ainsi comme une forme d’hommage à l’amour particulier qui unit une mère à sa fille.

RÉSUMÉCe livre s'adresse au profane plutôt qu'au spécialiste ou à l'universitaire. Bien que son titre laisse entendre qu 'il soit d'abord destiné aux adultes d'âge moyen aux prises avec les demandes conflictuelles de leurs enfants et de leurs parents âgés, la préface précise clairement que le livre vise un lectorat plus vaste incluant quiconque est submergé par des demandes d'adolescents ou d'enfants adultes ou de parents âgés. Le style du livre est dégagé et divertissant; on y vit les défis d'une famille et plus particulièrement de Rebecca, une femme de 52 ans sur le marché du travail, entourée de trois enfants toujours à la maison et de parents âgés de 80 ans. Chaque chapitre présente un aspect propre aux familles vieillissantes (p. ex.: les jeunes adultes toujours à la maison ou qui y reviennent, les parents âgés, la génération du milieu, la participation des frères et soeurs aux soins des parents, l'aide du secteur de soins officiel, la planification de l'avenir). La principale faiblesse du livre consiste à appliquer l'étiquette de génération sandwich à presque toutes les relations familiales et à son manque de spécificité en regard de la notion de «sandwich». Plus précisément, les auteurs ne font pas la distinction entre les sentiments de conflit ou de culpabilité, les comportements ordinaires d'aide au sein d'une famille et la fourniture de soins à des degrés inhabituels. Lorsque l'ensemble des relations familiales ou des types d'aide ou de conflit sont regroupés sous le terme de «génération sandwich,» les parents âgés sont blâmés outre mesure du stress des filles adultes. Le terme laisse croire que les parents âgés sont un fardeau pour leurs enfants. L'abus du terme déprécie les aîné(e)s et les filles absolument coincées entre les soins à fournir aux différentes générations.

L’évaluation du risque suicidaire met en jeu un large spectre de facteurs de personnalité, situationnels et anamnestiques. L’étude de cas que nous présentons illustre la façon dont le Rorschach peut contribuer à une telle évaluation. Il s’agit d’un homme blanc de 28 ans qui a passé le Rorschach deux mois avant une grave tentative de suicide et huit mois avant son suicide effectif. Le Rorschach fut administré, coté et interprété selon le Système Intégré. Les résultats aux autre tests sont aussi présentés. Bien que la constellation suicidaire fût négative, l’intégration des données du test avec les informations démographiques et historiques indiquait que ce patient demeurait en haut risque de nouvelle tentative de suicide. Les résultats au test qui contribuaient à cette conclusion indiquaient les facteurs de personnalité suivants: (a) un engourdissement extrême des émotions; (b) perte de l’adéquation à la réalité en rapport avec sa rage, qui le conduisait à interpréter les stimuli de manière erronée et à se sentir menacé sur un mode interprétatif; (c) culpabilité et haine de soi; (d) sentiments de désespoir et de détresse; (e) tendance au passage à l’acte (confirmée par l’anamnèse); (f) un intérêt particulier pour les symboles de mort (persévération du percept de crâne au Rorschach); et (g) difficulté à se rassurer dans les relations interpersonnelles. Nous avons aussi identifié dix facteurs de risque anamnestiques et démographiques. A la suite de l’évaluation, on estima que le récit que le patient faisait de son traumatisme de guerre n’était pas fiable. Nous abordons aussi la question de la simulation. Etant donné que le patient présentait un indice schizophrénie positif, on peut penser que son récit était motivé par un besoin de regonfler une image de soi particulièrement fragile. Nous insistons sur l’importance de prendre au sérieux la détresse exprimée d’un patient, même dans les cas où les patients semblent délibérément en falsifier l’origine.

Introduction. Le métier d’infirmier implique une confrontation quasi régulière à la morbidité. Cette confrontation, qu’elle soit occasionnelle ou fréquente, constitue un vécu trop souvent marginalisé est encore trop souvent passée sous silence (Saada et al., 2011). Son indélébilité sur le vécu du professionnel est toutefois une réalité. Elle laisse cependant son empreinte dans le parcours de ces acteurs. En effet, confronté à la mort de son patient, le professionnel de soins infirmiers peut ressentir une certaine culpabilité, du fait d’une nonchalance perçue, ce sentiment incontrôlable et insupportable influe négativement sur sa vie et son travail ce vécu devient handicapant aussi bien sur le plan professionnellement qu’en terme de vie privée. Objectif. Cet article cherche à explorer et évaluer les relations entre le sentiment de culpabilité et les différents facteurs sociodémographiques (genre, âge, niveau d’étude, état civil, ancienneté, nombre de décès) au sein des professionnels de soins infirmiers de l’Hôpital de Sfax, les hypothèses de la recherche stipulent : Hypothèse générale : - Il existe un lien entre le sentiment de culpabilité chez les infirmiers et leurs facteurs sociodémographiques face à la mort des patients. Hypothèses spécifiques : - Il y a un lien entre le sentiment de culpabilité et le sexe chez les infirmiers - Il existe un lien entre le sentiment de culpabilité chez les infirmiers et leur âge. - Le niveau d’étude constitue un indicateur de développement du sentiment de culpabilité chez les infirmiers. - Il existe un lien entre le sentiment de culpabilité des infirmiers participants et leurs nombres de décès des patients sous leurs charges. Méthode. En se basant sur l’inventaire de culpabilité ou Guilt Inventory Scale de Jones et al (2000), cette étude de devis descriptif-corrélationnel fut effectuée sur un échantillon de 131 infirmiers tous genres confondus, dont l’âge moyen est de 32.9 ans. L’avantage de l’outil emprunté, est qu’il offre un score global portant sur le sentiment de culpabilité à mesurer en plus d’apporter une évaluation sur les trois dimensions considérées à savoir l’état, le trait ainsi que les normes morales, ce qui est considérable en termes d’exactitude compte tenu de l’objet étudié. Résultats. L’un des résultats les plus saillants, est que 76% (n =99) ont exprimé une forte intensité de sentiment de culpabilité. Les résultats ont montré une corrélation positive entre le sentiment de culpabilité et les facteurs suivants : l’âge, le niveau d’étude, l’ancienneté et le nombre de décès. En revanches, une indépendance a été remarquée entre le sentiment de culpabilité, le sexe des participants. Conclusion. En conclusion, les résultats de cette étude témoignent que le sentiment de culpabilité, tel qu’évalué par la Guilt Inventory Scale, est très élevé et en corrélation avec les facteurs ; âge, niveau d’instruction, ancienneté au travail, nombre de décès. Il serait recommandé de prendre en considération ces résultats et venir en aide aux infirmiers par une préparation psychologique à la mort d’un patient afin de ne pas être victime d’une dépression ou un autre trouble.

La maladie grave atteint profondément et douloureusement l’enfant qui en souffre, mais aussi l’ensemble de sa famille. Celle-ci se retrouve précipitée dans une crise émotionnelle aiguë déclenchée par la menace de perdre l’enfant ainsi que par la remise en question des fantasmes d’immortalité de l’enfant et de l’ensemble des membres de sa famille. Cette situation induit des vécus et des sentiments variés (recherche de sens, sentiment d’échec, angoisse, agressivité, sentiment d’impuissance, de culpabilité, etc.) qui auront un impact inévitable sur l’enfant, sa famille et les relations aux soignants.Notre expérience de plus de 15 ans en pédiatrie aiguë nous a appris que si la capacité à faire face à la maladie grave de l’enfant varie selon des facteurs personnels (la personnalité, l’âge de l’enfant, le tempérament de chacun), elle dépend aussi du couple parental et du système familial dans ses aspects d’adaptabilité, de communication, de cohésion et de développement.En passant par la retranscription du discours de quelques familles, nous abordons quelques réactions parentales et familiales face à l’enfant gravement malade, en s’attardant sur certaines situations complexes (bébé malformé, enfant de parents séparés, besoins des parents dont l’enfant est en soins palliatifs) et sur quelques pistes de réflexion autour de leur accompagnement. Nous terminerons en évoquant brièvement la question du deuil et de son suivi.

Les thématiques abordées dans l’entretien sont multiples et s’entremêlent en partie. Nous pouvons néanmoins en dégager quelques-unes. Après avoir exposé sa manière de comprendre le « cambouis » dans lequel tout ethnographe plonge ses mains (mais aussi sa tête et son cœur…), Olivier Schwartz revient sur les modalités distinctes d’entrée sur ses terrains d’enquête : alors qu’il mène une enquête que l’on pourrait qualifier d’« incognito » (Dargère, 2012) dans le Nord, auprès d’hommes et de femmes qui sont ses voisin·e·s, il se présente comme un sociologue universitaire à la RATP. L’accès aux conducteurs et conductrices de bus de la région parisienne fait l’objet de nombreuses petites négociations en cascade, du haut vers le bas de la chaîne hiérarchique. Bien que ces deux enquêtes aient cours sur une temporalité longue, les pratiques de (non) négociation mises en œuvre par Olivier Schwartz diffèrent fortement et sont en partie liées aux rôles endossés sur chacun des terrains. Après avoir discuté des tenants et aboutissants « pratiques », mais aussi épistémologiques, de ses manières différenciées d’enquêter, il raconte très concrètement la façon dont il se présente et présente son travail, soulignant la part « d’inventivité » dont doit faire preuve l’ethnographe pour faire face aux imprévus ou aux lacunes inhérents à ce type de démarche. Il évoque la place centrale du statut de la parole dans ses enquêtes et aborde la question relativement peu débattue dans les arènes académiques des affects et des émotions dans la relation d’enquête, des raisons de ses insatisfactions, mais aussi de ses tourments et sentiments de culpabilité. Ces affects, loin d’être des parasites à la démarche d’enquête, sont au contraire de précieux « baromètres » pour résoudre certains dilemmes éthiques qui surviennent, notamment, au moment de négocier la sortie du terrain et de restituer les résultats de l’enquête. Il insiste sur l’importance de débattre collectivement de ces questions et affirme que sans « l’authentique souci des enquêté-e-s », la démarche ethnographique ne fait aucun sens.

Vingt ans après la deuxième guerre mondiale, en pleine guerre froide, les évêques polonais écrivent, au grand dam de l’État, à leurs homologues allemands « nous pardonnons et demandons pardon ». Depuis, l’usage du pardon dans la politique nationale et internationale est devenu monnaie courante. Presque toujours le pardon est demandé pour les actes commis par des générations précédentes, une démarche entrée dans la culture politique depuis peu. Rappelons à titre d’exemple qu’alors que son père refusait de demander pardon à titre de premier ministre du Canada pour des actes posés par des générations antérieures, Justin Trudeau, l’actuel premier ministre, ne s’en prive pas. Mobilisée dans la résolution des conflits, la démarche de réconciliation incorpore le pardon. Ainsi, cet objet d’étude de la théologie, de la morale, de la religion et de la philosophie est désormais principalement étudié par la science politique. Par l’homologie, le pardon passé de la relation entre Dieu et l’individu aux rapports interpersonnels puis aux rapports entre les communautés et les États, est devenu un objet politique. Le long vingtième siècle occidental, entre les hécatombes des guerres mondiales, l’Holocauste et les génocides, a mis sociétés et individus devant le défi de la reconstruction du social et du politique après l’impardonnable. Hannah Arendt (1958), Jacques Derrida (2001) et Wole Soyinka (2000), mais avant tout femmes et hommes « ordinaires » ont fait face au défi de reconstruire l’humain à la sortie de l’expérience de l’inhumain. “Si cela veut dire que cet homme qui a tué fils, si cela veut dire qu’il redevienne humain afin que nous tous puissions ravoir votre humanité … alors j’accepte » (Krog : emplacement 3486, toutes les traduction sont les miennes, BJ) a déclaré Cynthia Ngewu témoignant lors des audiences de la Commission Vérité et Réconciliation sud-africaine sur l’amnistie. Paul Ricoeur (2000), le plus influent des chercheurs universitaires ayant analysé le pardon dans la perspective d’un vivre-ensemble aux confluents de la philosophie, de l’éthique et de la théologie chrétienne, soutient que le véritable pardon délie « l’agent de son acte ». La culture chrétienne, aujourd’hui largement laïcisée, est un sous-bassement des usages du pardon pour la reconstruction d’un vivre-ensemble. En reconnaissant ce fait, il ne faut pas perdre de vue que le pardon est une préoccupation ancrée non seulement dans les trois grands monothéismes mais aussi dans le bouddhisme, l‘hindouisme et autres systèmes philosophiques ou de croyance en Asie, Océanie, Afrique, etc. Cependant, on ne comprend pas toujours le pardon à l’identique. Son utilisation pour la résolution des conflits ne va pas sans malentendus. Lorsque, pour désengorger son système de justice, l’État rwandais recourt à l’institution locale de gacaca, on est loin de l’apaisement d’un conflit au sein de la communauté d’une colline, l’octroi du pardon ou plus précisément l’acceptation du génocidaire étant conditionnés à la reconnaissance par celui-ci de son crime. Lorsque, dans une société occidentale, on s’inspire de la pratique hawaïenne de ho’opononpono pour la thérapie familiale, les acteurs n’ont ni mêmes attentes, ni même compréhension du pardon. Lorsqu’en 2012, dans la lettre ouverte commune aux nations de Pologne et de Russie, le patriarche Cyrille et l’archevêque Michalik offrent un pardon réciproque, en ont-ils la même compréhension ? La théologie du premier est de tradition grecque, celle de l’autre de tradition latine ? Retrouver l’humain, après l’expérience du génocide, de la colonisation, de l’esclavage peut aussi bien conduire à obéir à l’injonction d’inspiration chrétienne de Desmond Tutu « Pas d’avenir sans pardon » qu’à la réserve de Mahatma Gandhi . « Le faible ne peut pardonner. Le pardon est attribut du fort ». Cependant, pardonner pourrait permettre d’investir, au moins symboliquement, la position de ce dernier ? Est-ce pourquoi la position de Gandhi à l’égard du pardon a évolué ? De toute évidence, la réflexion anthropologique sur le sujet s’impose. Pourtant, les courants dominants de la discipline accordent peu d’intérêt au pardon, à l’exception des publications issues de l’anthropologie juridique, de l’anthropologie de la morale, de l’anthropologie psychologique ou de l’anthropologie des religions. Il se pose donc la question de savoir si la méthodologie de ces dernières leur viendrait de l’éthique ou de la théologie, ce dont manquerait l’anthropologie ? Or, Barbara Cassin trouve dans l’hyperbole de l’offre de pardon « absolu » dans l’Évangile (« le pardon n’est vraiment pardon – perfection du don - que lorsqu’il pardonne l’impardonnable, remet l’imprescriptible… » (2004 : 894), une structure ressemblant à celle du potlatch. Le contre-don perpétue le processus de « dépense » selon Georges Bataille (1967) de même que le don et contre-don de Marcel Mauss (2012). On retrouve cette même structure de relance dans l’offre de pardon « absolue », toujours en avance sur la demande. Dans la tradition nord-américaine de la discipline, Ruth Benedict (1946) offre une autre entrée « anthropologique » au pardon. La honte et la culpabilité seraient deux principes distincts de contrôle social de l’individu, elle s’en sert pour différencier la société japonaise de la société étasunienne. La première valoriserait l’honneur et la fierté alors que la seconde mettrait de l’avant la conscience individuelle. La mondialisation de la culture nord-américaine, aurait porté à l’échelle de la planète la prépondérance de la conscience individuelle et donc l’importance du pardon autant dans les relations interpersonnelles que dans celles entre les corps sociaux. Que ce soit l’entrée par le don ou par la conscience individuelle comme principe de contrôle social, la théologie des religions monothéistes, plus précisément la théologie chrétienne et plus encore la théologie protestante sont mobilisées. Il est donc impossible de conclure sans poser la question de l’universalité du pardon, de son usage qui ne serait pas affecté par le soupçon du prosélytisme chrétien. L’issue de cette réflexion finale devrait permettre de décider si le pardon demeure pour l’essentiel un objet de la théologie ou bien serait également celui de l’anthropologie. Revenons à l’exemple sud-africain, Antije Krog commente ainsi le témoignage de Cynthia Ngewu : « Le pardon chrétien dit : Je vous pardonne puisque Jésus m’a pardonné. (…) Le pardon africain dit : Je vous pardonne afin que vous puissiez et que puisse commencer à guérir ; que nous tous puissions redevenir nous-mêmes comme nous devrions l’être » (…) tous les Sud-Africains noirs formulent le pardon en termes de cette interrelation » (2009 : emplacement 3498 et 3489). Changeons de continent tout en conservant la comparabilité des expériences historiques. Roy L. Brooks (2004) écrit à la même époque que les excuses et les reparation constituent l’expiation laquelle impose États-Unis une réciproque obligation civique de pardonner. Ce pardon permet d’abandonner le ressentiment. Krog et Brooks suggèrent que ce que ce pardon dépasse le cadre de la chrétienté occidentale permettant aux gens de « réinterpréter les concepts occidentaux usés et mis à mal dont le pardon ». (Krog 2009 : emplacement 3494) Barbara Cassin souligne que la conception théologico-politique actuelle établit une hiérarchie entre celui qui pardonne et celui à qui on pardonne. En latin classique, il y a condescendance dans la relation duelle entre le sujet dont relève la décision souveraine d’oublier, d’ignorer, d’amnistier et son bénéficiaire. Les langues européennes en tirent la conception du pardon. Par contre, en Grèce ancienne on pardonnait en comprenant ensemble, en entrant dans la raison de l’autre. Cette horizontalité du pardon a été remplacée par la verticalité du pardon qui relève du politique. À partir des traditions grecques et judéo-chrétiennes, puis en passant par la pensée et les actions de Gandhi, Mandela et Martin Luther King, Martha Nussbaum (2016) se penche sur l’actuelle éthique du pardon. Elle reconnait la légitime colère des victimes laquelle afin de briser la condescendance et ouvrir la voie à l’acceptation du pardon libérée du sentiment de rétribution. Son approche semble répondre à l’expérience des victimes des individus en position d’autorité, crimes longtemps tus au nom de maintien de l’ordre social. Dans les récits d’expériences de la mort et de la vie sous le régime soviétique, dont Svetlana Alexievitch (2016) s’est faite historienne/romancière, le pardon de tradition chrétienne occidentale est absent. Le mot n’est prononcé qu’une seule fois et c’est par une femme soldat soviétique racontant comment en Allemagne conquise un soldat soviétique a tiré sur des civiles. En référence au temps de leur rencontre, les années 1990, elle dit à Alexievitch : « De nouveaux mots ont fait leur apparition : « pitié », « pardon » …Mais comment pardonner ? » (2016 : 394). Dans les récits des Soviétiques rassemblés par Alexievitch, le lecteur de sensibilité latine s’étonne de trouver le « comprendre ensemble » de tradition grecque plutôt que le « pardonner ». Tamara Oumniaguina, brancardière à Stalingrad raconte : « Je traîne notre blessé et je pense : « Est-ce que je retourne chercher l’Allemand, ou non ? » […] J’ai continué à les trainer sous les deux. » […] L’homme n’a qu’un seul cœur, et j’ai toujours pensé à préserver le mien. » (2016 : 412). Au plus profond de l’enfer de la déshumanisation, préserver son humanité c’est aussi permettre à l’agresseur de reconstituer la sienne. L’une étant la condition de l’autre, délier l’agresseur de son inhumanité c’est reconstruire l’humanité entière.

…love is queered not when we discover it to be resistant to or more than its known forms, but when we see that there is no world that admits how it actually works as a principle of living. Lauren Berlant – “Love, A Queer Feeling” As the sun beats down on a very dusty Musgrave Park, the crowd is hushed in respect for the elder addressing us. It is Pride Fair Day and we are listening to the story of how this place has been a home for queer and black people throughout Brisbane’s history. Like so many others, this park has been a place of refuge in times when Boundary Streets marked the lines aboriginal people couldn’t cross to enter the genteel heart of Brisbane’s commercial district. The street names remain today, and even if movements across territory are somewhat less constrained, a manslaughter trial taking place nearby reminds us of the surveillance aboriginal people still suffer as a result of their refusal to stay off the streets and out of sight in homes they don’t have. In the past few years, Fair Day has grown in size. It now charges an entry fee to fence out unwelcome guests, so that those who normally live here have been effectively uninvited from the party. On this sunny Saturday, we sit and talk about these things, and wonder at the number of spaces still left in this city for spontaneous, non-commercial encounters and alliances. We could hardly have known that in the course of just a few weeks, the distance separating us from others would grow even further. During the course of Brisbane’s month-long Pride celebrations in 2007, two events affected the rights agendas of both queer and black Australians. First, The Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission Report, Same Sex, Same Entitlements, was tabled in parliament. Second, the Federal government decided to declare a state of emergency in remote indigenous communities in the Northern Territory in response to an inquiry on the state of aboriginal child abuse. (The full title of the report is “Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarle”: Little Children are Sacred, and the words are from the Arrandic languages of the Central Desert Region of the Northern Territory. The report’s front cover also explains the title in relation to traditional law of the Yolngu people of Arnhem Land.) While the latter issue has commanded the most media and intellectual attention, and will be discussed later in this piece, the timing of both reports provides an opportunity to consider the varying experiences of two particularly marginalised groups in contemporary Australia. In a period when the Liberal Party has succeeded in pitting minority claims against one another as various manifestations of “special interests” (Brett, Gregg) this essay suggests there is a case to be made for queer and black activists to join forces against wider tendencies that affect both communities. To do this I draw on the work of American critic, Lauren Berlant, who for many years has offered a unique take on debates about citizenship in the United States. Writing from a queer theory perspective, Berlant argues that the conservative political landscape in her country has succeeded in convincing people that “the intimacy of citizenship is something scarce and sacred, private and proper, and only for members of families” (Berlant Queen 2-3). The consequence of this shift is that politics moves from being a conversation conducted in the public sphere about social issues to instead resemble a form of adjudication on the conduct of others in the sphere of private life. In this way, Berlant indicates how heteronormative culture “uses cruel and mundane strategies both to promote change from non-normative populations and to deny them state, federal, and juridical supports because they are deemed morally incompetent to their own citizenship” (Berlant, Queen 19). In relation to the so-called state of emergency in the Northern Territory, coming so soon after attempts to encourage indigenous home-ownership in the same region, the compulsion to promote change from non-normative populations currently affects indigenous Australians in ways that resonate with Berlant’s argument. While her position reacts to an environment where the moral majority has a much firmer hold on the national political spectrum, in Australia these conservative forces have no need to be so eloquent—normativity is already embedded in a particular form of “ordinariness” that is the commonsense basis for public political debate (Allon, Brett and Moran). These issues take on further significance as home-ownership and aspirations towards it have gradually become synonymous with the demonstration of appropriate citizenship under the Coalition government: here, phrases like “an interest rate election” are assumed to encapsulate voter sentiment while “the mortgage belt” has emerged as the demographic most keenly wooed by precariously placed politicians. As Berlant argues elsewhere, the project of normalization that makes heterosexuality hegemonic also entails “material practices that, though not explicitly sexual, are implicated in the hierarchies of property and propriety” that secure heteronormative privilege (Berlant and Warner 548). Inhabitants of remote indigenous communities in Australia are invited to desire and enact normal homes in order to be accepted and rewarded as valuable members of the nation; meanwhile gay and lesbian couples base their claims for recognition on the adequate manifestation of normal homes. In this situation black and queer activists share an interest in elaborating forms of kinship and community that resist the limited varieties of home-building currently sanctioned and celebrated by the State. As such, I will conclude this essay with a model for this alternative process of home-building in the hope of inspiring others. Home Sweet Home Ever since the declaration of terra nullius, white Australia has had a hard time recognising homes it doesn’t consider normal. To the first settlers, indigenous people’s uncultivated land lacked meaning, their seasonal itinerancy challenged established notions of property, while their communal living and wider kinship relations confused nuclear models of procreative responsibility and ancestry. From the homes white people still call “camps” many aboriginal people were moved against their will on to “missions” which even in name invoked the goal of assimilation into mainstream society. So many years later, white people continue to maintain that their version of homemaking is the most superior, the most economically effective, the most functional, with government policy and media commentators both agreeing that “the way out of indigenous disadvantage is home ownership.”(The 1 July broadcast of the esteemed political chat show Insiders provides a representative example of this consensus view among some of the country’s most respected journalists.) In the past few months, low-interest loans have been touted as the surest route out of the shared “squalor” (Weekend Australian, June 30-July1) of communal living and the right path towards economic development in remote aboriginal communities (Karvelas, “New Deal”). As these references suggest, The Australian newspaper has been at the forefront of reporting these government initiatives in a positive light: one story from late May featured a picture of Tiwi Islander Mavis Kerinaiua watering her garden with the pet dog and sporting a Tigers Aussie Rules singlet. The headline, “Home, sweet home, for Mavis” (Wilson) was a striking example of a happy and contented black woman in her own backyard, especially given how regularly mainstream national news coverage of indigenous issues follows a script of failed aboriginal communities. In stories like these, communal land ownership is painted as the cause of dysfunction, and individual homes are crucial to “changing the culture.” Never is it mentioned that communal living arrangements clearly were functional before white settlement, were an intrinsic part of “the culture”; nor is it acknowledged that the option being offered to indigenous people is land that had already been taken away from them in one way or another. That this same land can be given back only on certain conditions—including financially rewarding those who “prove they are doing well” by cultivating their garden in recognisably right ways (Karvelas, “New Deal”)— bolsters Berlant’s claim that government rhetoric succeeds by transforming wider structural questions into matters of individual responsibility. Home ownership is the stunningly selective neoliberal interpretation of “land rights”. The very notion of private property erases the social and cultural underpinnings of communal living as a viable way of life, stigmatising any alternative forms of belonging that might form the basis for another kind of home. Little Children Are Sacred The latest advance in efforts to encourage greater individual responsibility in indigenous communities highlights child abuse as the pivotal consequence of State and Local government inaction. The innocent indigenous child provides the catalyst for a myriad of competing political positions, the most vocal of which welcomes military intervention on behalf of powerless, voiceless kids trapped in horrendous scenarios (Kervalas, “Pearson’s Passion”). In these representations, the potentially abused aboriginal child takes on “supericonicity” in public debate. In her North American context, Berlant uses this concept to explain how the unborn child figures in acrimonious arguments over abortion. The foetus has become the most mobilising image in the US political scene because: it is an image of an American, perhaps the last living American, not yet bruised by history: not yet caught up in the processes of secularisation and centralisation… This national icon is too innocent of knowledge, agency, and accountability and thus has ethical claims on the adult political agents who write laws, make culture, administer resources, control things. (Berlant, Queen 6) In Australia, the indigenous child takes on supericonicity because he or she is too young to formulate a “black armband” view of history, to have a point of view on why their circumstance happens to be so objectionable, to vote out the government that wants to survey and penetrate his or her body. The child’s very lack of agency is used as justification for the military action taken by those who write laws, make the culture that will be recognized as an appropriate performance of indigeneity, administer (at the same time as they cut) essential resources; those who, for the moment, control things. However, and although a government perspective would not recognize this, in Australia the indigenous child is always already bruised by conventional history in the sense that he or she will have trouble accessing the stories of ancestors and therefore the situation that affects his or her entry into the world. Indeed, it is precisely the extent to which the government denies its institutional culpability in inflicting wounds on aboriginal people throughout history that the indigenous child’s supericonicity is now available as a political weapon. Same-Sex: Same Entitlements A situation in which the desire for home ownership is pedagogically enforced while also being economically sanctioned takes on further dimensions when considered next to the fate of other marginalised groups in society—those for whom an appeal for acceptance and equal rights pivots on the basis of successfully performing normal homes. While indigenous Australians are encouraged to aspire for home ownership as the appropriate manifestation of responsible citizenship, the HREOC report represents a group of citizens who crave recognition for already having developed this same aspiration. In the case studies selected for the Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Report, discrimination against same-sex couples is identified in areas such as work and taxation, workers’ compensation, superannuation, social security, veterans’ entitlements and childrearing. It recommends changes to existing laws in these areas to match those that apply to de facto relationships. When launching the report, the commissioner argued that gay people suffer discrimination “simply because of whom they love”, and the report launch quotes a “self-described ‘average suburban family’” who insist “we don’t want special treatment …we just want equality” (HREOC). Such positioning exercises give some insight into Berlant’s statement that “love is a site that has perhaps not yet been queered enough” (Berlant, “Love” 433). A queer response to the report might highlight that by focussing on legal entitlements of the most material kind, little is done to challenge the wider situation in which one’s sexual relationship has the power to determine intimate possessions and decisions—whether this is buying a plane ticket, getting a loan, retiring in some comfort or finding a nice nursing home. An agenda calling for legislative changes to financial entitlement serves to reiterate rather than challenge the extent to which economically sanctioned subjectivities are tied to sexuality and normative models of home-building. A same-sex rights agenda promoting traditional notions of procreative familial attachment (the concerned parents of gay kids cited in the report, the emphasis on the children of gay couples) suggests that this movement for change relies on a heteronormative model—if this is understood as the manner in which the institutions of personal life remain “the privileged institutions of social reproduction, the accumulation and transfer of capital, and self-development” (Berlant and Warner 553). What happens to those who do not seek the same procreative path? Put another way, the same-sex entitlements discourse can be seen to demand “intelligibility” within the hegemonic understanding of love, when love currently stands as the primordial signifier and ultimate suturing device for all forms of safe, reliable and useful citizenly identity (Berlant, “Love”). In its very terminology, same-sex entitlement asks to access the benefits of normativity without challenging the ideological or economic bases for its attachment to particular living arrangements and rewards. The political agenda for same-sex rights taking shape in the Federal arena appears to have chosen its objectives carefully in order to fit existing notions of proper home building and the economic incentives that come with them. While this is understandable in a conservative political environment, a wider agenda for queer activism in and outside the home would acknowledge that safety, security and belonging are universal desires that stretch beyond material acquisitions, financial concerns and procreative activity (however important these things are). It is to the possibilities this perspective might generate that I now turn. One Size Fits Most Urban space is always a host space. The right to the city extends to those who use the city. It is not limited to property owners. (Berlant and Warner, 563) The affective charge and resonance of a concept like home allows an opportunity to consider the intimacies particular to different groups in society, at the same time as it allows contemplation of the kinds of alliances increasingly required to resist neoliberalism’s impact on personal space. On one level, this might entail publicly denouncing representations of indigenous living conditions that describe them as “squalor” as some kind of hygienic short-hand that comes at the expense of advocating infrastructure suited to the very different way of living that aboriginal kinship relations typically require. Further, as alternative cultural understandings of home face ongoing pressure to fit normative ideals, a key project for contemporary queer activism is to archive, document and publicise the varied ways people choose to live at this point in history in defiance of sanctioned arrangements (eg Gorman-Murray 2007). Rights for gay and lesbian couples and parents need not be called for in the name of equality if to do so means reproducing a logic that feeds the worst stereotypes around non-procreating queers. Such a perspective fares poorly for the many literally unproductive citizens, queer and straight alike, whose treacherous refusal to breed banishes them from the respectable suburban politics to which the current government caters. Which takes me back to the park. Later that afternoon on Fair Day, we’ve been entertained by a range of performers, including the best Tina Turner impersonator I’ll ever see. But the highlight is the festival’s special guest, Vanessa Wagner who decides to end her show with a special ceremony. Taking the role of celebrant, Vanessa invites three men on to the stage who she explains are in an ongoing, committed three-way relationship. Looking a little closer, I remember meeting these blokes at a friend’s party last Christmas Eve: I was the only girl in an apartment full of gay men in the midst of some serious partying (and who could blame them, on the eve of an event that holds dubious relevance for their preferred forms of intimacy and celebration?). The wedding takes place in front of an increasingly boisterous crowd that cannot fail to appreciate the gesture as farcically mocking the sacred bastion of gay activism—same-sex marriage. But clearly, the ceremony plays a role in consecrating the obvious desire these men have for each other, in a safe space that feels something like a home. Their relationship might be a long way from many people’s definition of normal, but it clearly operates with care, love and a will for some kind of longevity. For queer subjects, faced with a history of persecution, shame and an unequal share of a pernicious illness, this most banal of possible definitions of home has been a luxury difficult to afford. Understood in this way, queer experience is hard to compare with that of indigenous people: “The queer world is a space of entrances, exits, unsystematised lines of acquaintance, projected horizons, typifying examples, alternate routes, blockages, incommensurate geographies” (Berlant and Warner 558). In many instances, it has “required the development of kinds of intimacy that bear no necessary relation to domestic space, to kinship, to the couple form, to property, or to the nation” (ibid) in liminal and fleeting zones of improvisation like parties, parks and public toilets. In contrast, indigenous Australians’ distinct lines of ancestry, geography, and story continue through generations of kin in spite of the efforts of a colonising power to reproduce others in its own image. But in this sense, what queer and black Australians now share is the fight to live and love in more than one way, with more than one person: to extend relationships of care beyond the procreative imperative and to include land that is beyond the scope of one’s own backyard. Both indigenous and queer Australians stand to benefit from a shared project “to support forms of affective, erotic and personal living that are public in the sense of accessible, available to memory, and sustained through collective activity” (Berlant and Warner 562). To build this history is to generate an archive that is “not simply a repository” but “is also a theory of cultural relevance” (Halberstam 163). A queer politics of home respects and learns from different ways of organising love, care, affinity and responsibility to a community. This essay has been an attempt to document other ways of living that take place in the pockets of one city, to show that homes often exist where others see empty space, and that love regularly survives beyond the confines of the couple. In learning from the history of oppression experienced in the immediate territories I inhabit, I also hope it captures what it means to reckon with the ongoing knowledge of being an uninvited guest in the home of another culture, one which, through shared activism, will continue to survive much longer than this, or any other archive. References Allon, Fiona. “Home as Cultural Translation: John Howard’s Earlwood.” Communal/Plural 5 (1997): 1-25. Berlant, Lauren. The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship. Durham: Duke University Press, 1997. ———. “Love, A Queer Feeling.” Homosexuality and Psychoanalysis. Eds. Tim Dean and Christopher Lane. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2001. 432-51. ———, and Michael Warner. “Sex in Public.” Critical Inquiry 24.2 (1998): 547-566. Brett, Judith. Australian Liberals and the Moral Middle Class: From Alfred Deakin to John Howard. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. ———, and Anthony Moran. Ordinary People’s Politics: Australians Talk About Politics, Life and the Future of Their Country. Melbourne: Pluto Press, 2006. Gorman-Murray, Andrew. “Contesting Domestic Ideals: Queering the Australian Home.” Australian Geographer 38.2 (2007): 195-213. Gregg, Melissa. “The Importance of Being Ordinary.” International Journal of Cultural Studies 10.1 (2007): 95-104. Halberstam, Judith. In a Queer Time and Place: Transgender Bodies, Subcultural Lives. New York and London: NYU Press, 2005 Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission. Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Report. 2007. 21 Aug. 2007 http://www.hreoc.gov.au/human_rights/samesex/report/index.html>. ———. Launch of Final Report of the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission’s Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Inquiry (transcript). 2007. 5 July 2007 . Insiders. ABC TV. 1 July 2007. 5 July 2007 http://www.abc.net.au/insiders/content/2007/s1966728.htm>. Karvelas, Patricia. “It’s New Deal or Despair: Pearson.” The Weekend Australian 12-13 May 2007: 7. ———. “How Pearson’s Passion Moved Howard to Act.” The Australian. 23 June 2007. 5 July 2007 http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21952951-5013172,00.html>. Northern Territory Government Inquiry Report into the Protection of Aboriginal Children from Sexual Abuse. Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarle: Little Children Are Sacred. 2007. 5 July 2007 http://www.nt.gov.au/dcm/inquirysaac/pdf/bipacsa_final_report.pdf>. Wilson, Ashleigh. “Home, Sweet Home, for Mavis.” The Weekend Australian 12-13 May 2007: 7. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Gregg, Melissa. "Normal Homes." M/C Journal 10.4 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/02-gregg.php>. APA Style Gregg, M. (Aug. 2007) "Normal Homes," M/C Journal, 10(4). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/02-gregg.php>.

The copyrighting of digital augmentations (our data-flesh), their privatization and ownership by others from a vast distance that is simultaneously instantly telematically surmountable started simply enough. It was the initially innocuous corporatization of language and semiotics that started the deeper ontological flip, which placed the posthuman bits and parts over the posthuman that thought that it was running things. The posthumans in question, myself included, didn't help things much when, for instance, we all clicked an unthinking or unconcerned "yes" to Facebook® or Gmail®'s "terms and conditions of use" policies that gives them the real ownership and final say over those data based augments of sociality, speech, and memory. Today there is growing popular concern (or at least acknowledgement) over the surveillance of these augmentations by government, especially after the Edward Snowden NSA leaks. The same holds true for the dataveillance of data-flesh (i.e. Gmail® or Facebook® accounts) by private corporations for reasons of profit and/or at the behest of governments for reasons of "national security." While drawing a picture of this (bodily) state, of the intrusion through language of brands into our being and their coterminous policing of intelligible and iterative body boundaries and extensions, I want to address the next step in copyrighted augmentation, one that is current practice in professional sport, and part of the bourgeoning "anti-aging" industry, with rewriting of cellular structure and hormonal levels, for a price, on the open market. What I want to problematize is the contradiction between the rhetorical moralizing against upgrading the analogue-flesh, especially with respect to celebrity sports stars like Lance Armstrong and Alex Rodriquez, all the while the "anti-aging" industry does the same without censor. Indeed, it does so within the context of the contradictory social messaging and norms that our data-flesh and electric augmentations receive to constantly upgrade. I pose the question of the contradiction between the messages given to our analogue-flesh and data-flesh in order to examine the specific site of commentary on professional sports stars and their practices, but also to point to the ethical gap that exists not just for (legal) performance enhancing drugs (PED), but also to show the link to privatized and copyrighted genomic testing, the dataveillance of this information, and subsequent augmentations that may be undertaken because of the results. Copyrighted Language and Semiotics as Gateway Drug The corporatization of language and semiotics came about with an intrusion of exclusively held signs from the capitalist economy into language. This makes sense if one want to make surplus value greater: stamp a name onto something, especially a base commodity like a food product, and build up the name of that stamp, however one will, so that that name has perceived value in and of itself, and then charge as much as one can for it. Such is the story of the lack of real correlation between the price of Starbucks Coffee® and coffee as a commodity, set by Starbucks® on the basis of the cultural worth of the symbols and signs associated with it, rather than by what they pay for the labor and production costs prior to its branding. But what happens to these legally protected stamps once they start acting as more than just a sign and referent to a subsection of a specific commodity or thing? Once the stamp has worth and a life that is socially determined? What happens when these stamps get verbed, adjectived, and nouned? Naomi Klein, in the book that the New York Times referred to as a "movement bible" for the anti-globalization forces of the late 1990s said "logos, by the force of ubiquity, have become the closest thing we have to an international language, recognized and understood in many more places than English" (xxxvi). But there is an inherent built-in tension of copyrighted language and semiotics that illustrates the coterminous problems with data- and analogue-flesh augments. "We have almost two centuries' worth of brand-name history under our collective belt, coalescing to create a sort of global pop-cultural Morse code. But there is just one catch: while we may all have the code implanted in our brains, we're not really allowed to use it" (Klein 176). Companies want their "brands to be the air you breathe in - but don't dare exhale" or otherwise try to engage in a two-way dialogue that alters the intended meaning (Klein 182). Private signs power first-world and BRIC capitalism, language, and bodies. I do not have a coffee in the morning; I have Starbucks®. I do not speak on a cellular phone; I speak iPhone®. I am not using my computer right now; I am writing MacBook Air®. I do not look something up, search it, or research it; I Google® it. Klein was writing before the everyday uptake of sophisticated miniaturized and mobile computing and communication devices. With the digitalization of our senses and electronic limbs this viral invasion of language became material, effecting both our data- and analogue-flesh. The trajectory? First we used it; then we wore it as culturally and socially demarcating clothing; and finally we no longer used copyrighted speech terms: it became an always-present augmentation, an adjective to the lexicon body of language, and thereby out of democratic semiotic control. Today Twitter® is our (140 character limited) medium of speech. Skype® is our sense of sight, the way we have "real" face-to-face communication. Yelp® has extended our sense of taste and smell through restaurant reviews. The iPhone® is our sense of hearing. And OkCupid® and/or Grindr® and other sites and apps have become the skin of our sexual organs (and the site where they first meet). Today, love at first sight happens through .jpeg extensions; our first sexual experience ranked on a scale of risk determined by the type of video feed file format used: was it "protected" enough to stop its "spread"? In this sense the corporatization of language and semiotics acted as the gateway drug to corporatized digital-flesh; from use of something that is external to us to an augmentation that is part of us and indeed may be in excess of us or any notion of a singular liberal subject.Replacement of Analogue-Flesh? Arguably, this could be viewed as the coming to be of the full replacement of the fleshy analogue body by what are, or started as digital augmentations. Is this what Marshall McLuhan meant when he spoke of the "electronic exteriorization of the central nervous system" through the growing complexity of our "electric extensions"? McLuhan's work that spoke of the "global village" enabled by new technologies is usually read as a euphoric celebration of the utopic possibilities of interconnectivity. What these misreadings overlook is the darker side of his thought, where the "cultural probe" picks up the warning signals of the change to come, so that a Christian inspired project, a cultural Noah’s Ark, can be created to save the past from the future to come (Coupland). Jean Baudrillard, Paul Virilio, and Guy Debord have analyzed this replacement of the real and the changes to the relations between people—one I am arguing is branded/restricted—by offering us the terms simulacrum (Baudrillard), substitution (Virilio), and spectacle (Debord). The commonality which links Baudrillard and Virilio, but not Debord, is that the former two do not explicitly situate their critique as being within the loss of the real that they then describe. Baudrillard expresses that he can have a 'cool detachment' from his subject (Forget Foucault/Forget Baudrillard), while Virilio's is a Catholic moralist's cry lamenting the disappearance of the heterogeneous experiential dimensions in transit along the various axes of space and time. What differentiates Debord is that he had no qualms positioning his own person and his text, The Society of the Spectacle (SotS), as within its own subject matter - a critique that is limited, and acknowledged as such, by the blindness of its own inescapable horizon.This Revolt Will Be Copyrighted Yet today the analogue - at the least - performs a revolt in or possibly in excess of the spectacle that seeks its containment. How and at what site is the revolt by the analogue-flesh most viewable? Ironically, in the actions of celebrity professional sports stars and the Celebrity Class in general. Today it revolts against copyrighted data-flesh with copyrighted analogue-flesh. This is even the case when the specific site of contestation is (at least the illusion of) immortality, where the runaway digital always felt it held the trump card. A regimen of Human Growth Hormone (HGH) and other PEDs purports to do the same thing, if not better, at the cellular level, than the endless youth paraded in the unaging photo employed by the Facebook or Grindr Bodies®. But with the everyday use and popularization of drugs and enhancement supplements like HGH and related PEDs there is something more fundamental at play than the economic juggernaut that is the Body Beautiful; more than fleshy jealousy of Photoshopped® electronic skins. This drug use represents the logical extension of the ethics that drive our tech-wired lives. We are told daily to upgrade: our sexual organs (OkCupid® or Grindr®) for a better, more accurate match; our memory (Google® services) for largeness and safe portability; and our hearing and sight (iPhone® or Skype®) for increase connectivity, engaging the "real" (that we have lost). These upgrades are controlled and copyrighted, but that which grows the economy is an especially favored moral act in an age of austerity. Why should it be surprising, then, that with the economic backing of key players of Google®—kingpin of the global for-profit dataveillance racket—that for $99.95 23andMe® will send one a home DNA test kit, which once returned will be analyzed for genetic issues, with a personalized web-interface, including "featured links." Analogue-flesh fights back with willing copyrighted dataveillance of its genetic code. The test and the personalized results allow for augmentations of the Angelina Jolie type: private testing for genetic markers, a double mastectomy provided by private healthcare, followed by copyrighted replacement flesh. This is where we find the biopolitics of data- and analogue-flesh, lead forth, in an ironic turn, by the Celebrity Class, whom depend for their income on the lives of their posthuman bodies. This is a complete reversal of the course Debord charts out for them: The celebrity, the spectacular representation of a living human being, embodies this banality by embodying the image of a possible role. Being a star means specializing in the seemingly lived; the star is the object of identification with the shallow seeming life that has to compensate for the fragmented productive specializations which are actually lived. (SotS) While the electronic global village was to have left the flesh-and-blood as waste, today there is resistance by the analogue from where we would least expect it - attempts to catch up and replant itself as ontologically prior to the digital through legal medical supplementation; to make the posthuman the posthuman. We find the Celebrity Class at the forefront of the resistance, of making our posthuman bodies as controlled augmentations of a posthuman. But there is a definite contradiction as well, specifically in the press coverage of professional sports. The axiomatic ethical and moral sentiment of our age to always upgrade data-flesh and analogue-flesh is contradicted in professional sports by the recent suspensions of Lance Armstrong and Alex Rodriguez and the political and pundit critical commentary on their actions. Nancy Reagan to the Curbside: An Argument for Lance Armstrong and Alex Rodriguez's "Just Say Yes to Drugs" Campaign Probably to the complete shock of most of my family, friends, students, and former lovers who may be reading this, I actually follow sports reporting with great detail and have done so for years. That I never speak of any sports in my everyday interactions, haven't played a team or individual sport since I could speak (and thereby use my voice to inform my parents that I was refusing to participate), and even decline amateur or minor league play, like throwing a ball of any kind at a family BBQ, leaves me to, like Judith Butler, "give an account of oneself." And this accounting for my sports addiction is not incidental or insignificant with respect either to how the posthuman present can move from a state of posthumanism to one of posthumanism, nor my specific interpellation into (and excess) in either of those worlds. Recognizing that I will not overcome my addiction without admitting my problem, this paper is thus a first-step public acknowledgement: I have been seeing "Dr. C" for a period of three years, and together, through weekly appointments, we have been working through this issue of mine. (Now for the sake of avoiding the cycle of lying that often accompanies addiction I should probably add that Dr. C is a chiropractor who I see for back and nerve damage issues, and the talk therapy portion, a safe space to deal with the sports addiction, was an organic outgrowth of the original therapy structure). My data-flesh that had me wired in and sitting all the time had done havoc to the analogue-flesh. My copyrighted augments were demanding that I do something to remedy a situation where I was unable to be sitting and wired in all the time. Part of the treatment involved the insertion of many acupuncture needles in various parts of my body, and then having an electric current run through them for a sustained period of time. Ironically, as it was the wired augmentations that demanded this, due to my immobility at this time - one doesn't move with acupuncture needles deep within the body - I was forced away from my devices and into unmediated conversation with Dr. C about sports, celebrity sports stars, and the recent (argued) infractions by Armstrong and Rodriguez. Now I say "argued" because in the first place are what A-Rod and Armstrong did, or are accused of doing, the use of PEDs, HGH, and all the rest (cf. Lupica; Thompson, and Vinton) really a crime? Are they on their way, or are there real threats of jail and criminal prosecution? And in the most important sense, and despite all the rhetoric, are they really going against prevailing social norms with respect to medical enhancement? No, no, and no. What is peculiar about the "witch-hunt" of A-Rod and Armstrong - their words - is that we are undertaking it in the first place, while high-end boutique medical clinics (and internet pharmacies) offer the same treatment for analogue-flesh. Fixes for the human in posthuman; ways of keeping the human up to speed; arguably the moral equivalent, if done so with free will, of upgrading the software for ones iOS device. If the critiques of Baudrillard and Virilio are right, we seem to find nothing wrong with crippling our physical bodies and social skills by living through computers and telematic technologies, and obsess over the next upgrade that will make us (more) faster and quicker (than the other or others), while we righteously deny the same process to the flesh for those who, in Debord's description, are the most complicit in the spectacle, to the supposedly most posthuman of us - those that have become pure spectacle (Debord), pure simulation (Baudrillard), a total substitution (Virilio). But it seems that celebrities, and sports celebrities in specific haven't gone along for the ride of never-ending play of their own signifiers at the expense of doing away with the real; they were not, in Debord's words, content with "specializing in the seemingly lived"; they wanted, conversely, to specialize in the most maximally lived flesh, right down to cellular regeneration towards genetic youth, which is the strongest claim in favor of taking HGH. It looks like they were prepared to, in the case of Armstrong, engage in the "most sophisticated, professionalized and successful doping program that sport has ever seen" in the name of the flesh (BBC). But a doping program that can, for the most part, be legally obtained as treatment, and in the same city as A-Rod plays in and is now suspended for his "crimes" to boot (NY Vitality). This total incongruence between what is desired, sought, and obtained legally by members of their socioeconomic class, and many classes below as well, and is a direct outgrowth of the moral and ethical axiomatic of the day is why A-Rod and Armstrong are so bemused, indignant, and angry, if not in a state of outright denial that they did anything that was wrong, even while they admit, explicitly, that yes, they did what they are accused of doing: taking the drugs. Perhaps another way is needed to look at the unprecedentedly "harsh" and "long" sentences of punishment handed out to A-Rod and Armstrong. The posthuman governing bodies of the sports of the society of the spectacle in question realize that their spectacle machines are being pushed back at. A real threat because it goes with the grain of where the rest of us, or those that can buy in at the moment, are going. And this is where the talk therapy for my sports addiction with Dr. C falls into the story. I realized that the electrified needles were telling me that I too should put the posthuman back in control of my damaged flesh; engage in a (medically copyrighted) piece of performance philosophy and offset some of the areas of possible risk that through restricted techne 23andMe® had (arguably) found. Dr. C and I were peeved with A-Rod and Armstrong not for what they did, but what they didn't tell us. We wanted better details than half-baked admissions of moral culpability. We wanted exact details on what they'd done to keep up to their digital-flesh. Their media bodies were cultural probes, full in view, while their flesh bodies, priceless lab rats, are hidden from view (and likely to remain so due to ongoing litigation). These were, after all, big money cover-ups of (likely) the peak of posthuman science, and the lab results are now hidden behind an army of sports federations lawyers, and agents (and A-Rod's own army since he still plays); posthuman progress covered up by posthuman rules, sages, and agents of manipulation. Massive posthuman economies of spectacle, simulation, or substitution of the real putting as much force as they can bare on resurgent posthuman flesh - a celebrity flesh those economies, posthuman economies, want to see as utterly passive like Debord, but whose actions are showing unexpected posthuman alignment with the flesh. Why are the centers of posthumanist power concerned? Because once one sees that A-Rod and Armstrong did it, once one sees that others are doing the same legally without a fuss being made, then one can see that one can do the same; make flesh-and-blood keep up, or regrow and become more organically youthful, while OkCupid® or Grindr® data-flesh gets stuck with the now lagging Photoshopped® touchups. Which just adds to my desire to get "pumped up"; add a little of A-Rod and Armstrong's concoction to my own routine; and one of a long list of reasons to throw Nancy Reagan under the bus: to "just say yes to drugs." A desire that is tempered by the recognition that the current limits of intelligibility and iteration of subjects, the work of defining the bodies that matter that is now set by copyrighted language and copyrighted electric extensions is only being challenged within this society of the spectacle by an act that may give a feeling of unease for cause. This is because it is copyrighted genetic testing and its dataveillance and manipulation through copyrighted medical technology - the various branded PEDs, HGH treatments, and their providers - that is the tool through which the flesh enacts this biopolitical "rebellion."References Baudrillard, Jean. Forget Foucault/Forget Baudrillard. Trans Nicole Dufresne. Los Angeles: Semiotext(e), 2007. ————. Simulations. Trans. Paul Foss, Paul Patton and Philip Beitchman. Cambridge: Semiotext(e), 1983. BBC. "Lance Armstong: Usada Report Labels Him 'a Serial Cheat.'" BBC Online 11 Oct. 2012. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/cycling/19903716›. Butler, Judith. Giving an Account of Oneself. New York: Fordham University Press, 2005. Clark, Taylor. Starbucked: A Double Tall Tale of Caffeine, Commerce, and Culture. New York: Back Bay, 2008. Coupland, Douglas. Marshall McLuhan. Toronto: Penguin Books, 2009. Debord, Guy. Society of the Spectacle. Detroit: Black & Red: 1977. Klein, Naomi. No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies. Toronto: Knopf Canada, 1999. Lupica, Mike. "Alex Rodriguez Beginning to Look a Lot like Lance Armstrong." NY Daily News. 6 Oct. 2013. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/baseball/lupica-a-rod-tour-de-lance-article-1.1477544›. McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1964. NY Vitality. "Testosterone Treatment." NY Vitality. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://vitalityhrt.com/hgh.html›. Thompson, Teri, and Nathaniel Vinton. "What Does Alex Rodriguez Hope to Accomplish by Following Lance Armstrong's Legal Blueprint?" NY Daily News 5 Oct. 2013. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/i-team/a-rod-hope-accomplish-lance-blueprint-article-1.1477280›. Virilio, Paul. Speed and Politics. Trans. Mark Polizzotti. New York: Semiotext(e), 1986.

What creative techniques of resistance are available to a female filmmaker when she is the victim of a violent event and filmed at her most vulnerable? This article uses an autoethnographic lens to discuss my experience of a serious car crash my family and I were inadvertently involved in due to police negligence and a criminal act. Employing Creative Analytical Practice (CAP) ethnography, a reflexive form of research which recognises that the creative process, producer and product are “deeply intertwined” (Richardson, “Writing: A Method” 930), I investigate how the crash’s violent affects crippled my agency, manifested in my creative praxis and catalysed my identification of latent forms of institutionalised violence in film culture, its discourse and pedagogy that also contributed to my inertia. The article maps my process of writing a feature length screenplay during the aftermath of the crash as I set out to articulate my story of survival and resistance. Using this narrative inquiry, in which we can “investigate how we construct the world, ourselves, and others, and how standard objectifying practices...unnecessarily limit us” (Richardson, “Writing: A Method” 924), I outline how I attempted to disrupt the entrenched power structures that exist in dominant narratives of violence in film and challenge my subjugated positioning as a woman within this canon. I describe my engagement with the deconstructionist practices of writing the body and militant feminist cinema, which suggest subversive opportunities for women’s self-determination by encouraging us to embrace our exiled positioning in dominant discourse through creative experimentation, and identify some of the possibilities and limitations of this for female agency. Drawing on CAP ethnography, existentialism, film feminism, and narrative reframing, I assert that these reconstructive practices are more effective for the creative enfranchisement of women by not relegating us to the periphery of social systems and cultural forms. Instead, they enable us to speak back to violent structures in a language that has greater social access, context and impact.My strong desire to tell screen stories lies in my belief that storytelling is a crucial evolutionary mechanism of resilience. Narratives do not simply represent the social world but also have the ability to change it by enabling us to “try to figure out how to live our lives meaningfully” (Ellis 760). This conviction has been directly influenced by my personal story of trauma and survival when myself, my siblings, and our respective life partners became involved in a major car crash. Two police officers attending to a drunken brawl in an inner city park had, in their haste, left the keys in the ignition of their vehicle. We were travelling across a major intersection when the police car, which had subsequently been stolen by a man involved in the brawl – a man who was wanted on parole, had a blood alcohol level three times over the legal limit, and was driving at speeds exceeding 110kms per hour - ran a red light and crossed our path, causing us to crash into his vehicle. From the impact, the small four-wheel drive we were travelling in was catapulted metres into the air, rolling numerous times before smashing head on into oncoming traffic. My heavily pregnant sister was driving our vehicle.The incident attracted national media attention and our story became a sensationalist spectacle. Each news station reported erroneous and conflicting information, one stating that my sister had lost her unborn daughter, another even going so far as to claim my sister had died in the crash. This tabloidised, ‘if it bleeds, it leads’, culture of journalism, along with new digital technologies, encourages and facilitates the normalisation of violent acts, often inflicted on women. Moreover, in their pursuit of high-rating stories, news bodies motivate dehumanising acts of citizen journalism that see witnesses often inspired to film, rather than assist, victims involved in a violent event. Through a connection with someone working for a major news station, we discovered that leading news broadcasters had bought a tape shot by a group of men who call themselves the ‘Paparazzi of Perth’. These men were some of the first on the scene and began filming us from only a few metres away while we were still trapped upside down and unconscious in our vehicle. In the recording, the men are heard laughing and celebrating our tragedy as they realise the lucrative possibilities of the shocking imagery they are capturing as witnesses pull us out of the back of the car, and my pregnant sister incredibly frees herself from the wreckage by kicking out the window.As a female filmmaker, I saw the bitter irony of this event as the camera was now turned on me and my loved ones at our most vulnerable. In her discussion of the male gaze, a culturally sanctioned form of narrational violence against women that is ubiquitous in most mainstream media, Mulvey proposes that women are generally the passive image, trapped by the physical limits of the frame in a permanent state of powerlessness as our identity is reduced to her “to-be-looked-at-ness” (40). For a long period of time, the experience of performing the role of this commodified woman of a weaponised male gaze, along with the threat of annihilation associated with our near-death experience, immobilised my spirit. I felt I belonged “more to the dead than to the living” (Herman 34). When I eventually returned to my creative praxis, I decided to use scriptwriting as both my “mode of reasoning and a mode of representation” (Richardson, Writing Strategies 21), test whether I could work through my feelings of alienation and violation and reclaim my agency. This was a complex and harrowing task because my memories “lack[ed] verbal narrative and context” (Herman 38) and were deeply rooted in my body. Cixous confirms that for women, “writing and voice...are woven together” and “spring from the deepest layers of her psyche” (Moi 112). For many months, I struggled to write. I attempted to block out this violent ordeal and censor my self. I soon learnt, however, that my body could not be silenced and was slow to forget. As I tried to write around this experience, the trauma worked itself deeper inside of me, and my physical symptoms worsened, as did the quality of my writing.In the early version of the screenplay I found myself writing a female-centred film about violence, identity and death, using the fictional narrative to express the numbness I experienced. I wrote the female protagonist with detachment as though she were an object devoid of agency. Sartre claims that we make objects of others and of ourselves in an attempt to control the uncertainty of life and the ever-changing nature of humanity (242). Making something into an object is to deprive it of life (and death); it is our attempt to keep ourselves ‘safe’. While I recognise that the car crash’s reminder of my mortality was no doubt part of the reason why I rendered myself, and the script’s female protagonist, lifeless as agentic beings, I sensed that there were subtler operations of power and control behind my self-objectification and self-censorship, which deeply concerned me. What had influenced this dea(r)th of female agency in my creative imaginings? Why did I write my female character with such a red pen? Why did I seem so compelled to ‘kill’ her? I wanted to investigate my gender construction, the complex relationship between my scriptwriting praxis, and the context within which it is produced to discover whether I could write a different future for myself, and my female characters. Kiesinger supports “contextualizing our stories within the framework of a larger picture” (108), so as to remain open to the possibility that there might not be anything ‘wrong’ with us, per se, “but rather something very wrong with the dynamics that dominate the communicative system” (109) within which we operate: in the case of my creative praxis, the oppressive structures present in the culture of film and its pedagogy.Pulling FocusWomen are supposed to be the view and when the view talks back, it is uncomfortable.— Jane Campion (Filming Desire)It is a terrible thing to see that no one has ever taught us how to develop our vision as women neither in the history of arts nor in film schools.— Marie Mandy (Filming Desire)The democratisation of today’s media landscape through new technologies, the recent rise in female-run production companies (Zemler) in Hollywood, along with the ground-breaking #MeToo and Time’s Up movements has elevated the global consciousness of gender-based violence, and has seen the screen industry seek to redress its history of gender imbalance. While it is too early to assess the impact these developments may have on women’s standing in film, today the ‘celluloid ceiling’ still operates on multiple levels of indoctrination and control through a systemic pattern of exclusion for women that upholds the “nearly seamless dialogue among men in cinema” (Lauzen, Thumbs Down 2). Female filmmakers occupy a tenuous position of influence in the mainstream industry and things are not any better on the other side of the camera (Lauzen, The Celluloid Ceiling). For the most part, Hollywood’s male gaze and penchant for sexualising and (physically or figuratively) killing female characters, which normalises violence against women and is “almost inversely proportional to the liberation of women in society” (Mandy), continues to limit women to performing as the image rather than the agent on screen.Film funding bodies and censorship boards, mostly comprised of men, remain exceptionally averse to independent female filmmakers who go against the odds to tell their stories, which often violate taboos about femininity and radically redefine female agency through the construction of the female gaze: a narrational technique of resistance that enables reel woman to govern the point of view, imagery and action of the film (Smelik 51-52). This generally sees their films unjustly ghettoised through incongruent classification or censorship, and forced into independent or underground distribution (Sexton-Finck 165-182). Not only does censorship propose the idea that female agency is abject and dangerous and needs to be restrained, it prevents access to this important cinema by women that aims to counter the male gaze and “shield us from this type of violence” (Gillain 210). This form of ideological and institutional gatekeeping is not only enforced in the film industry, it is also insidiously (re)constituted in the epistemological construction of film discourse and pedagogy, which in their design, are still largely intrinsically gendered institutions, encoded with phallocentric signification that rejects a woman’s specificity and approach to knowledge. Drawing on my mutually informative roles as a former film student and experienced screen educator, I assert that most screen curricula in Australia still uphold entrenched androcentric norms that assume the male gaze and advocate popular cinema’s didactic three-act structure, which conditions our value systems to favour masculinity and men’s worldview. This restorative storytelling approach is argued to be fatally limiting to reel women (Smith 136; Dancyger and Rush 25) as it propagates the Enlightenment notion of a universal subjectivity, based on free will and reason, which neutralises the power structures of society (and film) and repudiates the influence of social positioning on our opportunity for agency. Moreover, through its omniscient consciousness, which seeks to efface the presence of a specific narrator, the three-act method disavows this policing of female agency and absolves any specific individual of responsibility for its structural violence (Dyer 98).By pulling focus on some of these problematic mechanisms in the hostile climate of the film industry and its spaces of learning for women, I became acutely aware of the more latent forms of violence that had conditioned my scriptwriting praxis, the ambivalence I felt towards my female identity, and my consequent gagging of the female character in the screenplay.Changing Lenses How do the specific circumstances in which we write affect what we write? How does what we write affect who we become?— Laurel Richardson (Fields of Play 1)In the beginning, there is an end. Don’t be afraid: it’s your death that is dying. Then: all the beginnings.— Helene Cixous (Cixous and Jensen 41)The discoveries I made during my process of CAP ethnography saw a strong feeling of dissidence arrive inside me. I vehemently wanted to write my way out of my subjugated state and release some of the anguish that my traumatised body was carrying around. I was drawn to militant feminist cinema and the French poststructuralist approach of ‘writing the body’ (l’ecriture feminine) given these deconstructive practices “create images and ideas that have the power to inspire to revolt against oppression and exploitation” (Moi 120). Feminist cinema’s visual treatise of writing the body through its departure from androcentric codes - its unformulaic approach to structure, plot, character and narration (De Lauretis 106) - revealed to me ways in which I could use the scriptwriting process to validate my debilitating experience of physical and psychic violence, decensor my self and move towards rejoining the living. Cixous affirms that, “by writing her self, woman will return to the body which has been more than confiscated from her, which has been turned into…the ailing or dead figure” (Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa 880). It became clear to me that the persistent themes of death that manifested in the first draft of the script were not, as I first suspected, me ‘rehearsing to die’, or wanting to kill off the woman inside me. I was in fact “not driven towards death but by death” (Homer 89), the close proximity to my mortality, acting as a limit, was calling for a strengthening of my life force, a rebirth of my agency (Bettelheim 36). Mansfield acknowledges that death “offers us a freedom outside of the repression and logic that dominate our daily practices of keeping ourselves in order, within the lines” (87).I challenged myself to write the uncomfortable, the unfamiliar, the unexplored and to allow myself to go to places in me that I had never before let speak by investigating my agency from a much more layered and critical perspective. This was both incredibly terrifying and liberating and enabled me to discard the agentic ‘corset’ I had previously worn in my creative praxis. Dancyger and Rush confirm that “one of the things that happens when we break out of the restorative three-act form is that the effaced narrator becomes increasingly visible and overt” (38). I experienced an invigorating feeling of empowerment through my appropriation of the female gaze in the screenplay which initially appeased some of the post-crash turmoil and general sense of injustice I was experiencing. However, I soon, found something toxic rising inside of me. Like the acrimonious feminist cinema I was immersed in – Raw (Ducournau), A Girl Walks Home at Night (Amirpour), Romance (Breillat), Trouble Every Day (Denis), Baise-Moi (Despentes and Thi), In My Skin (Van), Anatomy of Hell (Breillat) – the screenplay I had produced involved a female character turning the tables on men and using acts of revenge to satisfy her needs. Not only was I creating a highly dystopian world filled with explicit themes of suffering in the screenplay, I too existed in a displaced state of rage and ‘psychic nausea’ in my daily life (Baldick and Sartre). I became haunted by vivid flashbacks of the car crash as abject images, sounds and sensations played over and over in my mind and body like a horror movie on loop. I struggled to find the necessary clarity and counterbalance of stability required to successfully handle this type of experimentation.I do not wish to undermine the creative potential of deconstructive practices, such as writing the body and militant cinema, for female filmmakers. However, I believe my post-trauma sensitivity to visceral entrapment and spiritual violence magnifies some of the psychological and physiological risks involved. Deconstructive experimentation “happens much more easily in the realm of “texts” than in the world of human interaction” (hooks 22) and presents agentic limitations for women since it offers a “utopian vision of female creativity” (Moi 119) that is “devoid of reality...except in a poetic sense” (Moi 122). In jettisoning the restorative qualities of narrative film, new boundaries for women are inadvertently created through restricting us to “intellectual pleasure but rarely emotional pleasure” (Citron 51). Moreover, by reducing women’s agency to retaliation we are denied the opportunity for catharsis and transformation; something I desperately longed to experience in my injured state. Kaplan acknowledges this problem, arguing that female filmmakers need to move theoretically beyond deconstruction to reconstruction, “to manipulate the recognized, dominating discourses so as to begin to free ourselves through rather than beyond them (for what is there ‘beyond’?)” (Women and Film 141).A potent desire to regain a sense of connectedness and control pushed itself out from deep inside me. I yearned for a tonic to move myself and my female character to an active position, rather than a reactive one that merely repeats the victimising dynamic of mainstream film by appropriating a reversed (female) gaze and now makes women the violent victors (Kaplan, Feminism and Film 130). We have arrived at a point where we must destabilise the dominance-submission structure and “think about ways of transcending a polarity that has only brought us all pain” (Kaplan, Feminism and Film 135). I became determined to write a screen narrative that, while dealing with some of the harsh realities of humanity I had become exposed to, involved an existentialist movement towards catharsis and activity.ReframingWhen our stories break down or no longer serve us well, it is imperative that we examine the quality of the stories we are telling and actively reinvent our accounts in ways that permit us to live more fulfilling lives.— Christine Kiesinger (107)I’m frightened by life’s randomness, so I want to deal with it, make some sense of it by telling a film story. But it’s not without hope. I don’t believe in telling stories without some hope.— Susanne Bier (Thomas)Narrative reframing is underlined by the existentialist belief that our spiritual freedom is an artistic process of self-creation, dependent on our free will to organise the elements of our lives, many determined out of our control, into the subjective frame that is to be our experience of our selves and the world around us (107). As a filmmaker, I recognise the power of selective editing and composition. Narrative reframing’s demand for a rational assessment of “the degree to which we live our stories versus the degree to which our stories live us” (Kiesinger 109), helped me to understand how I could use these filmmaking skills to take a step back from my trauma so as to look at it objectively “as a text for study” (Ellis 108) and to exercise power over the creative-destructive forces it, and the deconstructive writing methods I had employed, produced. Richardson confirms the benefits of this practice, since narrative “is the universal way in which humans accommodate to finitude” (Writing Strategies 65).In the script’s development, I found my resilience lay in my capacity to imagine more positive alternatives for female agency. I focussed on writing a narrative that did not avoid life’s hardships and injustices, or require them to be “attenuated, veiled, sweetened, blunted, and falsified” (Nietzsche and Hollingdale 68), yet still involved a life-affirming sentiment. With this in mind, I reintroduced the three-act structure in the revised script as its affectivity and therapeutic denouement enabled me to experience a sense of agentic catharsis that turned “nauseous thoughts into imaginations with which it is possible to live” (Nietzsche 52). Nevertheless, I remained vigilant not to lapse into didacticism; to allow my female character to be free to transgress social conventions surrounding women’s agency. Indebted to Kaplan’s writing on the cinematic gaze, I chose to take up what she identifies as a ‘mutual gaze’; an ethical framework that enabled me to privilege the female character’s perspective and autonomy with a neutral subject-subject gaze rather than the “subject-object kind that reduces one of the parties to the place of submission” (Feminism and Film 135). I incorporated the filmic technique of the point of view (POV) shot for key narrative moments as it allows an audience to literally view the world through a character’s eyes, as well as direct address, which involves the character looking back down the lens at the viewer (us); establishing the highest level of identification between the spectator and the subject on screen.The most pertinent illustration of these significant scriptwriting changes through my engagement with narrative reframing and feminist film theory, is in the reworking of my family’s car crash which became a pivotal turning point in the final draft. In the scene, I use POV and direct address to turn the weaponised gaze back around onto the ‘paparazzi’ who are filming the spectacle. When the central (pregnant) character frees herself from the wreckage, she notices these men filming her and we see the moment from her point of view as she looks at these men laughing and revelling in the commercial potential of their mediatised act. Switching between POV and direct address, the men soon notice they have been exposed as the woman looks back down the lens at them (us) with disbelief, reproaching them (us) for daring to film her in this traumatic moment. She holds her determined gaze while they glance awkwardly back at her, until their laughter dissipates, they stop recording and appear to recognise the culpability of their actions. With these techniques of mutual gazing, I set out to humanise and empower the female victim and neutralise the power dynamic: the woman is now also a viewing agent, and the men equally perform the role of the viewed. In this creative reframing, I hope to provide an antidote to filmic violence against and/or by women as this female character reclaims her (my) experience of survival without adhering to the culture of female passivity or ressentiment.This article has examined how a serious car crash, being filmed against my will in its aftermath and the attendant damages that prevailed from this experience, catalysed a critical change of direction in my scriptwriting. The victimising event helped me recognise the manifest and latent forms of violence against women that are normalised through everyday ideological and institutional systems in film and prevent us from performing as active agents in our creative praxis. There is a critical need for more inclusive modes of practice – across the film industry, discourse and pedagogy – that are cognisant and respectful of women’s specificity and our difference to the androcentric landscape of mainstream film. We need to continue to exert pressure on changing violent mechanisms that marginalise us and ghettoise our stories. As this article has demonstrated, working outside dominant forms can enable important emancipatory opportunities for women, however, this type or deconstruction also presents risks that generally leave us powerless in everyday spaces. While I advocate that female filmmakers should look to techniques of feminist cinema for an alternative lens, we must also work within popular film to critique and subvert it, and not deny women the pleasures and political advantages of its restorative structure. By enabling female filmmakers to (re)humanise woman though encouraging empathy and compassion, this affective storytelling form has the potential to counter violence against women and mobilise female agency. Equally, CAP ethnography and narrative reframing are critical discourses for the retrieval and actualisation of female filmmakers’ agency as they allow us to contextualise our stories of resistance and survival within the framework of a larger picture of violence to gain perspective on our subjective experiences and render them as significant, informative and useful to the lives of others. This enables us to move from the isolated margins of subcultural film and discourse to reclaim our stories at the centre.ReferencesA Girl Walks Home at Night. Dir. Ana Lily Amirpour. Say Ahh Productions, 2014.Anatomy of Hell. Dir. Catherine Breillat. Tartan Films, 2004. Baise-Moi. Dirs. Virginie Despentes and Coralie Trinh Thi. FilmFixx, 2000.Baldick, Robert, and Jean-Paul Sartre. Nausea. 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