www.theotherpress.ca By Rhys Edwards The Ubyssey (University of British Columbia) VANCOUVER (CUP) — In many ways, human beings are like books. Some of us can ramble on and on without saying anything, while others can explain complex ideas ina few sentences. Some of us cover ourselves in lavish designs and patterns; others are more austere. We often speak of our life story, and say that we can read each other like a book. And of course, as we grow older, we begin to wrinkle and decay. So it’s not beyond the stretch of the imagination to conceive of a human as a living book — the walking incarnation of text. These are the thoughts Thad in mind last Saturday when I went to the Human Library, a performance project currently being hosted by the PuSh International Performing Arts Festival in Vancouver. In keeping with the festival’s boundary-pushing mandate, the Human Library is an interactive experience that compels participants to challenge their preconceptions about a variety of stereotyped people by asking them to simply talk to each other. Visitors to the Human Library, located on the third floor of the Vancouver Public Library’s downtown branch, will find a desk covered in an array of different “books” they can check out, such as “Asperger’s Syndrome,” “Refugee” and “Born Again Christian.” Shortly after, a librarian will take them to meet their selected book, and, for the next 20 minutes, candid conversation ensues. The books are real people, not fictional characters. As I walked to meet my book — a tome ominously titled “Livin’ Large” with no additional context — I had misgivings. What if we didn’t get along? What if I offended the book? And what if the conversation was awkward? Fear, I hoped, would be requisite to some kind of learning. It turns out that the subject of “Livin’ Large” is a young woman who calls herself Suzy Shameless. I had anticipated that she would be overweight; what I had not anticipated, however, was that she would be an enthusiastic roller derby girl. For the past six years, Suzy has played with the Terminal City Rollergirls in competitions across North America, even as far away as Alaska. She hopes one day to compete in Dubai, just to see how the locals respond to her: a 220-pound woman wearing fishnet stockings, hotpants and a tanktop. a Human Library | Photo courtesy of Liesbeth Bernaerts/www.pushfestival.ca Human Library offers books you cant put down Suzy once modelled for the cover of Sad Magazine, where she was described — in the nicest possible sense — as “an overtly sexual, hyper-aggressive bully.” She frequently rolls into the ring with a message scrawled across her bare belly, which she slaps to intimidate the opposing team. “I’ve broken one girl’s ribs and another girl's tailbone through hitting them,” she cheerfully informed me. For Suzy, roller derby is not merely a pleasurable pastime; it affirms the total confidence she has in her self-image. The way in which she has embraced her body, she said, has inspired other women to confront the prejudice against non- heteronormative images of the female body. “This is who I am,” Suzy stated. “I’m going to use every inch of my body to convey this message that, ‘I am big, and I love it” As our conversation continued, I found my (admittedly limited) understanding of roller derby, and the human body, changing rapidly. I learned, for instance, that it’s entirely possible to be in excellent physical condition — Suzy also skis, gardens and goes mountain climbing — and still be overweight due to factors entirely beyond personal control. I eventually worked up the courage to ask her how she fares on the romantic side of things. Without hesitation, she tells me that she has a boyfriend, and that she has been approached by men on numerous occasions. “T've said ‘no’ a hell of alot more times than I’ve said ‘yes.’” By the time our conversation ended, I realized something else: not only is Suzy totally okay with who she is, she’s also one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. Rather than perpetually aspiring to be someone else, she enjoys the life that she has made for herself. “1 couldn’t imagine letting my body hold me back,” she mentioned in passing. The fact that I could learn so much through a basic interaction with another human being left me feeling both elated and despondent. I appreciate the knowledge I gained, but I was also left with the impression that my understanding of the world I live in is woefully narrow. How many other stories are circulating beneath Vancouver’s glass veneer? The Human Library, at least, provides a way for us to find some of them.