On being ... desensitized

 By Ingrid Sapona 

The newspapers are full of articles and commentary about all the things going on in the U.S. that are so troubling. As a result, I’ve felt there’s little point in writing about any of it. After all, what could I possibly say that hasn’t been said? But for the past couple weeks one particular story – the deportation of 238 Venezuelans to El Salvador – has troubled me in a way that few commentators have focused on. As a result, I’ve been trying to come to terms with what it is about it that’s bothering me so. 

Briefly, the background. On March 15, 2025 the U.S. deported a bunch of people to El Salvador. The deportation was facilitated through an agreement under which the U.S. government is paying $6 million to El Salvador to take deportees. Much of the news related to this incident has focused on the terms of an order issued by a Federal District Court Judge that called for the U.S. to return the planes that had the deportees on them. Though that part of the story is important and has implications about obeying the rule of law, that’s not what I am writing about. Nor am I focused on the nature of the justifications and legal arguments the government has put forth to justify these deportations, though those issues are important (and troubling) in terms of constitutional questions around the right to due process. Those issues have received attention and hopefully will continue to be in the news. 

What I can’t get past about that episode is the lack of outrage expressed about the treatment of the people once deported. Shortly after the news broke, the El Salvadoran government released a video that was picked up by most news organization. And, according to a New York Times article, within three days it was viewed almost 39 million times on social media.  I found the treatment of the people in the video very disturbing. 

The video shows nameless, faceless, shackled detainees frog marched off the planes and onto buses (and ultimately into a “terrorist confinement center”) by jack booted, balaclava-wearing officials – likely police, military, or prison guards. (I’ll refer to them here as guards.) Two guards per detainee are seen grabbing the arms and necks of the unarmed detainees, forcing them to walk/run in a crouched position toward the holding cell. The show of force was overwhelming. 

As I watched the video I was struck by the appearance of the guards as they were handling the detainees. They were wearing helmets with headphones, arm and shin guards, and Kevlar-looking vests. They were flanked on both sides by lines of guards standing shoulder-to-shoulder in black riot gear, complete with shields and batons. The detainees, whose heads had been shaven, were shackled at the wrist and ankles. Though they looked like it, the guards were not characters out of a Star Wars movie. This was not some cosplay convention. The detainees were real people who the U.S. picked up and sent to this notorious place. (The El Salvadoran government released a video in 2023 showing off of this detention centre and the hard-line treatment of those held there.)

As it happens, the day before I first saw the video from El Salvador I watched the 2023 film Lee, a biopic about photojournalist Lee Miller, an American WWII photographer. Her black and white images of the Nazi atrocities at Buchenwald and Dachau shocked people and drove home to the world what had happened. The movie is a reminder of the power of the visual – something the El Salvadoran government clearly appreciated when it released the propaganda video of the detainees. 

So, I figured surely in a day or two – as more folks saw the video of the deportees, there would be a hue and cry of people expressing shock and outrage. But very little has been said about it the treatment – or fate – of these people. (Well, the president of El Salvador has said that the deportees “would be held for a least a year and made to perform labor and attend workshops under a program called “Zero Idleness.”  That phrase has an interesting ring to it, doesn’t it? Maybe that’s the inscription over the doorway of the prison.) Imagine how these people were – and are – treated when the cameras are not rolling. Does no one think that could be me or my child or friend who was picked up and sent to some faraway gulag? 

I can’t understand it why this story hasn’t sparked outrage and protest. I get that there’s so much going on that people are feeling overwhelmed and that it feels like there’s an inevitability to much of it. But we must guard against becoming desensitized to violence and mistreatment of people and we must speak out against such treatment. Seems to me that failure to speak up makes one complicit in such actions and – ultimately – puts us all at risk. 

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona

On being ... an interest rekindled

By Ingrid Sapona 

The first 25 years of my life were consumed with formal education. Over the years since then, I’ve taken a few “continuing education” courses. They were offered by local colleges and universities but were mainly aimed at people who just had an interest in a particular field. The continuing ed courses were formal, classroom-based instruction with homework, though it was basically just to give students feedback. 

At some point, however, I kind of lost interest in continuing ed courses. Though I sometimes check to see what’s being offered, I always seem to find a reason not to sign up. For example, there have been courses I was interested in, but they had a prerequisite that I wasn’t interested in taking. Sometimes I vetoed courses because the fee seemed high, considering my interest was more curiosity than the desire to drink deep of the fountain of knowledge (apologies to Mr. Pope). And if I’m being honest, the idea of committing to showing up in a classroom for weeks on end is generally unappealing to me. 

A half-dozen years ago someone from my sail club mentioned an organization that offered “university-level lecture series” aimed at seniors seeking intellectual stimulation. Though I looked into it then, I wasn’t interested in attending the lectures at a nearby senior centre. 

During Covid, in person lectures had to stop, but the organization moved them to Zoom. That appealed to me. When they offered a series on music in movies, I figured I’d give them a try. I won’t bore you with the details, but the long and the short of it was I didn’t enjoy the course at all. In fairness, I hadn’t paid that close attention to the description. I didn’t realize the focus was pre-1970 films, so no music by John Williams or Hans Zimmer or any other composer I knew. The instructor was knowledgeable and enthusiastic but … well, my mistake. 

After Covid restrictions were lifted, the organization continued offering courses via Zoom. Given my earlier disappointment, I paid more attention to the titles and descriptions. For a long while, none of the topics appealed to. Then, last year one title caught my eye – Espionage: The Second Oldest Profession. A sucker for clever titles, I registered. I enjoyed the course thoroughly, but for reasons that were unexpected. We didn’t learn much about the craft of espionage, which is what I thought we’d hear about. But we did learn a lot of history. Indeed, what was most striking was how the instructor used the lens of spy craft to teach history. What a great idea! 

The next series I signed up for was about how the study of anatomy influenced medicine, religion, and art. Half way through I felt frustrated because it seemed more focused on religion than art. But even so, I had to admit I learned a lot about the Catholic religion. And, the last couple lectures did tie it all together. The instructor’s passion definitely brought the information to life in a way a textbook never could. 

Because of these experiences, I’m way more open to topics I might not have been interested in before. Sure, I still gravitate toward things I have a native interest in. But now I also consider whether a lecture series might fill in particular gaps (or sometimes gaping holes) in my knowledge. As well, there are some series that intrigue me just because I wouldn’t have imagined a course could be created around that topic. For example, if you were to ask me if I’m interested in a series on Ballets Russes, the answer is no. But the lecturer has designed a course framed around the machinations of a master impresario (The Master Impresario: Sergei Diaghilev & Ballets Russes). Intriguing, don’t you think? And, because the courses are reasonably priced, even if I learn just one thing per lecture, I figure I’m ahead of the game. (In a course on famous Toronto architects, for example, I learned what fritted glass is. If nothing else, I’m sure that’ll be useful in a future crossword!) 

I’ve always believed in lifelong learning, but I had definitely lost interest in pursuing it. These lectures have rekindled my willingness to partake in structured learning. How lucky that there are organizations that present thoughtfully and creatively crafted lectures by passionate experts. All you have to do is enroll and then be open to catching some of the lecturer’s enthusiasm.   

© 2025 Ingrid Sapona