imashadowalker - Tumblr blog

[imashadowalker]

Petit rappel du jour : les élections européennes auront lieu le 9 juin ! Pensez à faire une demande de procuration si besoin !

[imashadowalker]

🕯️Joyeuse Fête des Lumières à tous les Lyonnais ! 🕯️

[imashadowalker]

Universities should have swing sets

[imashadowalker]

Fuck. Fuck.

Again. AGAIN.

On Friday October 16th, 2020, history and geography teacher Samuel Party, who taught in the suburbs of Paris, was assassinated by a radical islamist.

Today, on Friday October 13th, 2023, a professor was killed in the northern city of Arras in France. His name was Dominique Bernard, he was a French teacher. The profile of his killer is oddly similar to Samuel Paty's murderer. The main difference is that this French teacher was not specifically targeted. However, it seems the attacker actually was looking for a history and geography teacher (according to an interview on BFMTV related in an article of The Guardian).

Even without the similarities that are probably not completely coincidental, the timing of the attack is just... God. 3 years, nearly to the day. Some say it might also be linked to the current situation in Israel-Palestine, and while I have a hard time seeing a direct link, I can't deny it may have been a spark. (Some part of me can't help but wonder if there is also a linked with Friday November 13th, 2015.)

I just... Fuck. Samuel Paty's assassination affected me in the way that the previous islamist terrorist attacks in France (including those of 2015) just didn't. Part of it was probably because I was older and I actually let myself be affected instead of protecting myself by being emotionally distant. But the main reason is that I couldn't help thinking of the history teacher that I had when the 2015 attacks happened. I was thinking of all of my teachers, especially those I had admired and respected, and this one man in particular. I remembered the way he had talked about those attacks with us, the way he was always careful to be as neutral as possible while making us think, even debate. I remembered him teaching us, both years. I remembered feeling at 12 y.o. that I was finally learning and understanding the way the world around me worked. I remembered that he had been serious and yet fun, an authority figure yet someone that was friendly instead of distant. I remembered that he wanted us to learn, not just facts (though it is important to always have context) but also to think critically, to analyse, those skills that are so essentials for future citizens who will one day be called to cast their ballots.

And upon learning of the attack on Saturday 17th, I thought that instead of Samuel Paty, it could very well have been him.

God, there's a lot of problems with the education system in France. And the worst thing about that, is that teachers are not responsible for most of these problems, yet they're always the scapegoats for everyone's anger, and the ones expected to fix every single problem even though they really can't. Not every teacher is perfect or even good, far from it : but I have had good teachers. Every single year I had good teachers. Some were more memorable than others, more passionate or eccentric, more inspiring; but as a rule they were good, and I really respected them as people. In the end, I remember those good teachers much more than those who were not really fit to teach.

I respect them for being teachers, when they got so much shit from the students, the parents, and even their hierarchy. Today, anyone becoming a teacher in France is not in it for the lousy pay or the difficult work conditions : they become teachers because they actually want to teach. And as someone who chose not to go down that road because I never thought I was strong enough to deal with all that, I really admire all my classmates who do want to become teachers.

So I hate this. I hate that teachers are being targeted for doing their fucking job and teaching.

I'm French, damnit. And because my teachers were good, because the history teacher I had in 2015 was good, I trust the values I've been taught are ours. "Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité". Freedom of opinion, expression, press, association, consciousness, religion. Justice, tolerance. Democracy. The values and ideas of the Enlightenment which inspired the French Revolution. The light of knowledge and reason driving away the darkness of ignorance, prejudice and superstition.

Those are the ideas I trust, and school is not only any institution passing down those values, it also embodies many of them. As such, teachers, in particular history and geography teachers who are the ones tasked to teach about our history and values, are, in a way, a symbol; a living representation of those values.

So it's just horrifying that teachers have been targeted, when they're, in general, just good people doing a job disregarded by so many people, when they get so much shit from everyone and so little rewards.

I hate this.

[imashadowalker]

ID : a tweet from the Siecle history podcast that reads "Some of the most detailed historical research being done today about 19th Century France is done by a small community of fans trying to make their fanfiction historically accurate."

[imashadowalker]

Parce que le mode de scrutin influe sur l'issue du scrutin, des chercheurs comparent le scrutin uni-nominal (actuellement utilisé en France pour les élections présidentielles) et le jugement majoritaire. N'hésitez pas à participer à l'expérience !

Si vous êtes curieux d'en savoir plus sur les modes de scutins, je vous propose cette vidéo par le scientifique français David Louapre:

[imashadowalker]

Notre sortie de famille ce dimanche : au bureau de vote !

[imashadowalker]

Explications sur les chiffres et comment ils peuvent être mal interprétés.

[imashadowalker]

Tried to draw Ewilan and Salim (inspired from the show’s design)

and I don’t like the end result.

I’m going to do another one because the process of drawing them was super fun tho

[imashadowalker]

Consultation citoyenne sur l'abstention et les modes de scrutins, ouverte à tous en France (y compris les mineurs) pour le mois d'octobre 2021. Lien dans l'article.

[imashadowalker]

Tes mots m'ont donné envie de raconter ma propre histoire avec ces livres. La voici.

J'étais en CM2 quand une librairie a enfin ouvert dans ma ville. C'est une petite boutique avec un joli nom, tenue par des jeunes femmes passionnés. Lorsque je m'y suis rendue pour la première fois, accompagnée de ma mère et de mes sœurs, je ne savais pas quoi acheter. Ma mère a demandé à une libraire de me conseiller, et c'est comme ça que je suis rentrée chez moi avec D'un monde à l'autre sous le bras.

J'avoue que lorsque la libraire me l'avait d'abord présenté, j'étais resté un peu indécise. Je n'aimais pas trop le style de la couverture, avec son monstre hideux et ses personnages disproportionnés, et le résumé était en fait un extrait du livre qui posait plus de questions qu'il n'apportait de réponses. De plus, je n'avais jamais lu de livre de ce genre, de fantasy. Mes dernières passions littéraires à cette date étaient La Guerre des Clans et les romans sur l'époque Louis XIV (en particulier Les Colombes du Roi Soleil). Autrement dit ce nouveau style était un grand bouleversement.

J'avais tous de même accepté, déjà forte du précieux conseil "ne pas juger un livre à sa couverture", et probablement suffisamment curieuse de la description qu'avait dû m'en faire la libraire. Je ne l'ai jamais regretté.

J'ai dévoré les romans, achetant les premiers puis empruntant les suivants à la bibliothèque.

Comme tous j'ai voulu être Marchombre, par la pensée au moins puisque mon corps en était incapable. En sixième j'ai tous de suite adoré l'idée du haiku lorsque ma professeure de français nous en a parlé, probablement par sa proximité avec la poésie marchombre.

Pendant un ou deux ans j'ai lu et relu ces livres, parfois tous, parfois certains seulement, puis je les ai doucement délaissé, lisant d'autres histoires. J'ai feuilleté les premières BDs, mais ne les ai pas continuées. En fin de 4ème ils n'étaient plus mes livres préférés.

Lorsque j'ai commencé à fréquenter des fandoms sur internet, à lire des fanfictions, j'ai eu la curiosité d'aller voir si les livres de Pierre Bottero sucitaient un quelconque engouement. J'ai trouvé quelques fanfictions, mais rien que j'eu envie de lire.

Avec le temps, je n'oubliais pas, mais je ne me souvenais plus. J'explorais d'autres univers, souvent ceux qui avaient un plus grand écho sur la toile, simplement parce qu'ils étaient traduits et distribué dans de nombreux pays.

Mais les 5 premiers tomes des trilogies de Bottero tronaient toujours fièrement dans ma bibliothèque et jamais ne me serais venue l'idée de m'en défaire.

Et puis, il y a un an, alors que j'éprouvais des difficultés dans ma première année d'études supérieures et que je me retrouvait confinée chez mes parents, m'ai venue l'idée de chercher à nouveau ce fandom. Utilisant tumblr depuis peu, c'est là que j'ai appris l'existence du Discord, et la nouvelle d'une adaptation en dessin animé dont les designs m'ont tout de suite séduite (bien que, habituée des adaptations de l'écrit au visuel, je restais prudente de modérer mes attentes vis-à-vis de la fidélité à l'œuvre originale).

J'ai replongé dans cet univers une nouvelle fois. La lecture de ces mêmes œuvres tant d'années plus tard n'était plus la même, mais cela n'a jamais changé mon amour pour l'œuvre.

Je suis de loin le projet d'animation, et relirais peut-être la série bientôt. Mais malgré la distance, cette œuvre est l'une de celles qui ont le plus profondément changé ma vie et mon regard. Je sais qu'elle le restera.

J’ai longtemps cru que La Quête d’Ewilan était un élément de mon passé, une passion de mon enfance, quelque chose qui m’avait construite mais qui était à présent derrière moi. Une série de romans que j’avais relue jusqu’au point de rupture et que je risquais d’user irrémédiablement si je m’y replongeais.

Et j’ai déniché par hasard, au détour d’un shitpost, une poignée de fans de Bottero qui trainaient sur Tumblr.

Et j’ai monté un petit serveur Discord pour pouvoir partager nos souvenirs et notre passion pour ce monument de la littérature. Un petit groupe qui a grandi et s’est élargi au fur et à mesure que d’autres fans découvraient les blogs Tumblr pleins d’OCs et de théories sous crack que nous avions créés sous le coup de l’impulsivité.

Et je me suis lancée, anxieuse et incertaine, dans une énième relecture de ce monument de mon enfance et de mon adolescence, pour découvrir avec surprise que mon amour pour ces romans n’avait pas pris une ride. Mieux, que ma passion pour cette oeuvre s’était décuplée avec mon âge et mon expérience.

Et j’y ai jeté toute mon énergie de fangirl hyperfixatrice, en découvrant avec une joie presque maniaque le bonheur d’allier mon goût pour les théories et mon obsession du détail avec mon amour littéraire d’enfance.

Et j’ai découvert au fin fond d’un tag deserté de Tumblr qu’un studio d’animation avait décidé d’entreprendre ce qui, depuis toute petite, pour moi n’était qu’un rêve, mais venait en une seconde de devenir la nouvelle la plus importante du monde et un soleil brûlant dans ma poitrine.

Et je me suis laissée espérer avec une naïveté et une excitation enfantine que, juste peut être, ce projet était sérieux, et qu’il allait aboutir à quelque chose de plus qu’une bande annonce et des chara-designs qui me faisaient stimmer comme si ma vie en dépendait.

Et maintenant, un an et demi plus tard, je fais partie d’un serveur de 50 fans toujours aussi actifs qu’au premier jour; je me suis replongée pour la huitième fois dans l’oeuvre de Bottero avec, si c’est possible, encore plus de plaisir que les sept fois précédentes; j’ai construit des cartes et une frise chronologique précise à l’année près, et plus de théories qu’un conspirationiste sous acide; et le projet de dessin animé d’Andarta vient de faire exploser la barre des 200% de financement après seulement 24h de campagne, confirmant avec une certitude inébranlable la réalisation de mon rêve d’enfant.

La Quête d’Ewilan est loin d’être un souvenir poussiéreux d’une gamine de huit ans qui rêvait de devenir marchombre comme je l’avais cru. C’est une pièce du puzzle de mon identité qui, si elle a cessé de me construire, continue de participer à mon bohneur, et n’a pas l’air près de s’arrêter.

Je n’ai pas les mots pour exprimer à quel point ces événements me rendent heureuse. Et pour une fois, pas seulement heureuse dans une explosion d’excitation à l’annonce d’une bande annonce où à la découverte d’une théorie, dans l’hystérie joyeuse d’un hyperfixation. Mais heureuse dans la douce réalisation que cet univers - car c’est bien plus qu’un simple roman - a toujours sa place dans ma vie autant que si je n’avais pas cessé d'y penser pendant cinq ans. Heureuse en constatant, en enfilant mon vieux pull préféré, qu’il me va toujours aussi bien qu’avant, et ramène avec lui tous les souvenirs et les bonheurs passés, tout en en promettant de nouveaux.

Ewilan, Salim, Ellana, Edwin, et tous les autres, merci. Je ne vous ai pas oubliés. Et je ne pense pas que j’en sois capable un jour.

[imashadowalker]

CA Y EST, LE KICKSTARTER D’ANDARTA EST LANCE!!!!

Pour celleux qui ne savent pas: le studio Andarta travaille sur une adaptation en dessin animé de La Quête d’Ewilan, et jusqu’à présent leurs productions sont magnifiques! Vous pouvez voir le trailer ici et les designs sur leur Facebook.

[imashadowalker]

It's bothering me more and more, so I'm gonna rant a bit.

Since Samuel Paty's murder there have been weekly articles in French newspapers regarding kids voicing their disagreement in school - most about how this murder was somehow justified, some about how religions shouldn't ever be critized or mocked, and the last title I read was "monkeys aren't our ancestors, Allah created us". Teachers are being threatened, some forced to leave their school because they were doing their job teaching what liberty of speech and secularity mean. I do not know if this reflects an augmentation of those kind of incidents or if their coverage by the media simply increased but. I just. I'm... scared.

Society has been divided for years, but those divisions feel larger by the day. I like to believe that my generation - today's youth - is what I see around me in my everyday life : people who are non-violent, voice any disagreement they have through peaceful protests, actions and debate, who trust science even when they have faith. But my own perspective is far from what reality is. This knowledge is terrifying. Because trusting that those who surround me value empathy and reason as much as I do is what gives me hope. Hope that the future will not be as dark as the what today's world would let us think. How am I supposed to go on if I can't hope anymore?

I try, but the thing is there is no way to count, to quantify, to ration. Those who speak the loudest often are not the most numerous. I can't know what my own generation think as a whole, because I'll only ever meet individuals.

It's scary. I fear extremisms - all of them without exceptions. The world is a complex thing, and extremists only see black and white. They feel but do not reason. Not to say reason primes on feelings - but there's a need for balance. Everything needs balance.

I trust myself because I know how to admit I'm wrong. I know how to be confident and voice my opinions without letting those opinions become immutable: I know that I could be at least partially wrong, that I am a person and therefore flawed, thus it is only reasonable to allow my opinions to evolve.

There's nothing scarier than someone beyond reason ; someone so convinced they are right that no criticism could ever sway them. They are unreachable, except mabye through manipulation, something "good" people are more than reluctant to do.

And it is a very human trait, to be convinced we are right. The problem arises when critic of what you think you know feels like an attack. It shouldn't. You can feel annoyed by stupidity and ignorance, tired, resentful, but never angry or vengeful. Attacking ideas is not attacking a person. It's questioning the reasoning or morals. You shouldn't feel attacked by someone simply trying to exercise their critical thought, even when they are terrible at it.

People are free to think - they always will be. You cannot deny it to someone. History is full of people who died for their ideas. People have always questioned what is believed and what is known. They always will. Never, will you kill them all because every child is born curious. Similarly, we will never eradicate extremisms, because people long for simple things.

But if today can tell you anything, it's that the world, and people, are complex. From where I stand, it's evident that no simple explanation can describe it all.

Please know that you are flawed as are all humans, that reality is infinitely complex, and thus mathematically speaking there must be among your thoughts and beliefs at least on point where not entirely right.

Please, think, and do not be scared to doubt. Learn critical thinking, how to check sources, use multiple references, listen to your opponents and look for the information supporting their point of view. Listen to people with a similar view to yours explain this information differently. I know it's a lot, that we don't have the time - but just a bit, just sometimes is enough.

Please don't lock yourself out. There are no "us and them" ; there's me, you, that one and this other one, and thousands of shades in between.

I've seen nice people, I've met them. Kindness exists. Be kind too.

[imashadowalker]

11 y.o - interactive theater and bullying

Once, when I was in middle school, we had this activity called interactive theater. Basically, actors would play a scene, and it ended "badly". Then students could take the place of one of the actors to try to change the outcome.

The topic was bullying.

The last scene was this older sibling trying to get their younger sibling to explain why the school had called and said they were skipping. (The younger was being bullied, but no one knew). In the initial scene, and with the first students who took the place of the older sibling, the older sibling was insistent, kept harassing the younger to tell them what was going on, sometimes even getting angry.

I knew that wasn't how they should do it - I knew my idea was better, but I was to shy to step forward. I nearly didn't, but in the end I found the courage to raise my hand.

It was nerve wracking to improvise in front of my classmates.

I said a couple nervous sentences first, the obvious "hey, the school called today, apparently you didn't go, can you tell me why?". But as soon as the "younger sibling" started growing agitated, and sat down on the couch, I shut up. Then I sat right next to them. And stayed silent.

Seconds, minutes passed. I was growing incredibly nervous, as my classmates started shifteing and muttering, but I stubbornly stayed silent. I stayed silent when "younger sibling" who had been shifting as well, angrily asked what I was doing. Minutes passed, the bell rang and my classmates grew agitated. Seconds. And then...

"Do you promise not to tell mom and dad?"

I didn't know what to answer. I'm not sure if I answered before we cut the scene and the actors congratulated me for finding a solution. (It's been a while since then). I'm not sure how I did or would have answered. But it's not really the point.

The thing that I knew, and that my classmates didn't, I had learnt from experience. The more someone asks for explanations, try to get you to open up, the more closed off you become. You feel attacked. But if someone sits next to you, and stays without demanding anything, not silently judging and staring but deciding to stand by your side, you're grateful for their support. You start to believe you can try trusting them.

Hurt people don't trust violent ones, even if that violence isn't conscious to the attacker. They sense a threat and shut down. What they need is soft words and silence, support and patience.

To help someone you've got to stop thinking about yourself, your need to help, your curiosity, your frustration, your helplessness.

You need to think of the person you want to help. Their fears. Their needs. Their wishes.

[imashadowalker]

Today, October 17th 2020, is a day of mourning

Yesterday, in a city near Paris, a History and Geography teacher was killed. The crime which, for his murderer, justified beheading him? Having handed out caricatures of Mahomet to his students during a class on freedom of speech.

As soon as I heard, this morning, once I finished watching the report on the news, I went to my room to light a candle.

Today, that teacher wears the face of all of those I once met in a classroom.

In particular, the face of my former history teacher who was once telling us about freedom of speech even as, whilst we were still oblivious to it, somewhere else in France the building of the Charlie Hebdo newspaper was being attacked because of the caricature of Mahomet it had released. The same teacher who, I have no doubt, will adress these new events with my little sister and her classmates once they come back from break.

No matter what one might think about our president, one cannot disagree with his words:

" [...] leur métier, qui est le plus beau qui soit : faire des citoyens libres."

"their profession, the most beautiful there is : to create free citizens." [my own translation]

No matter how biased the curriculum might be, many of my teachers made sure we didn't just learn blindly, but that we understood bias was everywhere, even in the lessons we were taught. Sometimes they gave us their own opinions, even though they weren't supposed to. But I think being confronted to all of their different opinions was much more helpful than being taught with complete neutrality. The teachers ensured that we learnt to think critically, to doubt. To doubt, not as a conspiracy believer, but with empathy, by recognizing that even the best people are flawed. I don't believe many of my classmates truly understood or remembered this, but I do. And I'm grateful, so incredibly grateful for what they gave me. So grateful that they tried.

I haven't cried, nor will I. Just like I never did for previous attacks. But this one is different for me, in a way that I can't really explain. Or maybe I can - it feels closer to home.

So I light a candle.

To the bravery of our teachers. May the Lights always conquer the darkness of ignorance.

[imashadowalker]

Mon blog pour tout ce qui n'est pas en lien avec Pierre Bottero:

My blog for everything not related to Pierre Bottero :

[imashadowalker]

La série animée de La Quête d'Ewilan est officiellement en développement chez Andarta Pictures !