Well, the sustainable development class is over but for some reason today, I wrote this poem. And I'm not really sure if it is complete but... it's something that I think busted out of me so I figured what better place to put it then here.
Boys
Boys the way your eyes are gilded remind me of the purest son.
Bold like children, you've walked the paths of men.
Damage in your mornings, hunger in your nights
I've met you and wondered how your smile stays so bright with a life so dark and..
darkest days turned to coldest nights,
you said God bless me, while I was trying to figure out where God left his saviors if not on your birth ground
Did he not place a crown of roses on your head
Did he not ask the sun and the earth to feed you
Did he not know that the day you were created there was love in those beds...
A love so sacred it needed to be hidden from the world,
he didn't know you or he would have known better...
He would have seen 200 years and more in your history
forbade you anymore suffering
he would have washed the sky clean and gave you angel wings
born to fly.
I cried when I thought these words, but you didn't understand why.
Boys didn't understand why I cried for them, when they cried for me.
They couldn't understand how I didn't know love and community.
How I couldn't hear music in the mornings that beat through the feet of my own labor.
Why I couldn't smile at my own neighbor.
They took me into their arms and asked why American women feel like stone.
Had God not blessed you with the softness of heart?
And as we both relayed our messages to God they returned themselves to sender.
We looked at eyes gilded, eyes dark
and asked to change the world we live in.
Asked to learn what had hurt you
Who had stolen you,
and found divinity in ourselves.
We, the garbage eaters, have never known a banquet so bountiful then the one of free exchange.
And I apologized to God that day for being led astray.
I apologized for not knowing that chokoraa referred to the stars,
the moon,
and the boys that turned into men by day...
You will be loved, you'll be protected, you will be beautiful.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
The Boys
I have just finished reading DEOGRATIAS: A tale of Rwanda by Jean-Phillipe Stassen and I realized that I could not end these blog posts without talking about the boys.
Allan, my heart, is supposedly 24 years old although he looks about 20. Many people think Allan is Kenyan because he speaks Kukuyu fluently, however he is actually a refugee of the Rwandan genocide. I would like to tell you his story, but I can't. The history of Rwanda is dark, even in the graphic novel form of Deogratias, it is hard to imagine the heinous crimes that took place for years in this region of Africa. As I began to talk to Allan he mentioned to me that he lost his family in 1992, the year I was born. I stopped him there, unable to wrap my mind around anything else he might say, unable to imagine that someone so beautiful had to experience something so ugly. I almost cried with just the mention of it. For the time that I spent with Allan, I discovered so much more about him outside of his past and his current situation. Allan who told me he never has fun because he is always serious, likes to play soccer. He has a huge smile, likes to read and aspires to one day hold a job and help his community. Allan said he would never want a family because he is poor and he cannot see himself being a supportive husband or father, by the end of his week with us, Allan decided he would consider it. He is very shy, extremely shy and uncomfortable in social/party atmospheres... but he can dance if you get him going. Allan is smart, ambitious, and resilient, and it was not until I was editing a documentary of our trip that I discovered things about him. For instance, that Allan has dealt with large bouts of abandonment and poverty in his lifetime. He looks to the people of Harambee as family and father figures for him. He has a strong sense of failure, but he is also hopeful for the future. I have loved Allan from the moment I met him, because he reminds me of people I have encountered in my life. People who are quiet storms of strength, sorrow, and hope. Allan is like a classic novel, unwritten. He is the embodiment of the work of Toni Morrison and Octavia Butler. He has a kind've poetic justice about himself and his life that I can only respect, admire and be humbled by the fact that he chose to share it with us.
Tony is a streetboy. To be quite honest, that is all I knew about him while in Kenya. But there where other things I gathered about him that earned him this spot in my blog. I did not meet Tony on the first day we were introduced to the boys of Dagoretti Market. I was overwhelmed with everything that was happening, so instead I stood by myself huddled next to some american someone who wouldn't be bombarded by excited children. Yeah, I'm a little lame and anti-social in really intense situations. Tony however seemed to remember me as someone worth knowing by the second time we met (which inevitably became the first time we actually met). The way that I discovered this is because Tony walked over to me and introduced himself but as I went to introduce myself, he already knew my name. He smiled at me, which was not uncommon because all the Kenyan men just love to smile and have beautiful smiles!, as a sign of friendliness and showed us around a slaughter house and the small area of Dagoretti Market. That was it for Tony and I that day, but as I rushed back to the van, anxiously trying to get near Dennis (the protector) and away from the boys attempting to marry my classmate Raven, I noticed Tony pull a few away from us and back toward the marketplace. It appeared to me that Tony had a little bit of protector in him too. The next time I ran into Tony was on an interview day. We were going to lunch and it was the first time I had really been alone with him and his friends (by alone I mean without at least half of my group). I complained to Tony how no one seemed to like me in Kenya because they turned away from me every time I tried to wave or say hello, but embraced all of my group-mates. Tony reassured me that it was not my fault and that I was pretty, Tony was immediately on my good side. As the afternoon continued I notice he was somewhat shy around me and stared/winked at me a lot. My deductive reasoning skills told me that Tony had a slight crush on me (Michael also may have mentioned it). To sum up this story and not make Tony's piece too long, he ends up helping me a lot on that day and was very kind to me while also continuously gawking at me which was flattering and uncomfortable. On our last day Tony walked up to me and said he made something for me, as I bursted into tears, he unwrapped hand-made earrings for me and every girl in my group. I love you Tony. I gave him a hug and said goodbye, Tony became my Kenyan crush and I am sad to know I may never see him again. Back in America, I found out Tony's story while editing our documentary. Tony is also around 24 years old, and he has dreams of being a lawyer. He also lost his family and traveled to Nairobi as a younger man. He mentioned that he would like to help the streetboys because he knows he did not have many opportunities in his life and did not take advantage of the ones that he did have. Tony became the star of many of our interviews because he is an eloquent speaker and offers words of inspiration. Sigh, I will stop talking about Tony now because he is one of the few boys we may really never see again.
Allan:
Allan, my heart, is supposedly 24 years old although he looks about 20. Many people think Allan is Kenyan because he speaks Kukuyu fluently, however he is actually a refugee of the Rwandan genocide. I would like to tell you his story, but I can't. The history of Rwanda is dark, even in the graphic novel form of Deogratias, it is hard to imagine the heinous crimes that took place for years in this region of Africa. As I began to talk to Allan he mentioned to me that he lost his family in 1992, the year I was born. I stopped him there, unable to wrap my mind around anything else he might say, unable to imagine that someone so beautiful had to experience something so ugly. I almost cried with just the mention of it. For the time that I spent with Allan, I discovered so much more about him outside of his past and his current situation. Allan who told me he never has fun because he is always serious, likes to play soccer. He has a huge smile, likes to read and aspires to one day hold a job and help his community. Allan said he would never want a family because he is poor and he cannot see himself being a supportive husband or father, by the end of his week with us, Allan decided he would consider it. He is very shy, extremely shy and uncomfortable in social/party atmospheres... but he can dance if you get him going. Allan is smart, ambitious, and resilient, and it was not until I was editing a documentary of our trip that I discovered things about him. For instance, that Allan has dealt with large bouts of abandonment and poverty in his lifetime. He looks to the people of Harambee as family and father figures for him. He has a strong sense of failure, but he is also hopeful for the future. I have loved Allan from the moment I met him, because he reminds me of people I have encountered in my life. People who are quiet storms of strength, sorrow, and hope. Allan is like a classic novel, unwritten. He is the embodiment of the work of Toni Morrison and Octavia Butler. He has a kind've poetic justice about himself and his life that I can only respect, admire and be humbled by the fact that he chose to share it with us.
Tony:
Tony is a streetboy. To be quite honest, that is all I knew about him while in Kenya. But there where other things I gathered about him that earned him this spot in my blog. I did not meet Tony on the first day we were introduced to the boys of Dagoretti Market. I was overwhelmed with everything that was happening, so instead I stood by myself huddled next to some american someone who wouldn't be bombarded by excited children. Yeah, I'm a little lame and anti-social in really intense situations. Tony however seemed to remember me as someone worth knowing by the second time we met (which inevitably became the first time we actually met). The way that I discovered this is because Tony walked over to me and introduced himself but as I went to introduce myself, he already knew my name. He smiled at me, which was not uncommon because all the Kenyan men just love to smile and have beautiful smiles!, as a sign of friendliness and showed us around a slaughter house and the small area of Dagoretti Market. That was it for Tony and I that day, but as I rushed back to the van, anxiously trying to get near Dennis (the protector) and away from the boys attempting to marry my classmate Raven, I noticed Tony pull a few away from us and back toward the marketplace. It appeared to me that Tony had a little bit of protector in him too. The next time I ran into Tony was on an interview day. We were going to lunch and it was the first time I had really been alone with him and his friends (by alone I mean without at least half of my group). I complained to Tony how no one seemed to like me in Kenya because they turned away from me every time I tried to wave or say hello, but embraced all of my group-mates. Tony reassured me that it was not my fault and that I was pretty, Tony was immediately on my good side. As the afternoon continued I notice he was somewhat shy around me and stared/winked at me a lot. My deductive reasoning skills told me that Tony had a slight crush on me (Michael also may have mentioned it). To sum up this story and not make Tony's piece too long, he ends up helping me a lot on that day and was very kind to me while also continuously gawking at me which was flattering and uncomfortable. On our last day Tony walked up to me and said he made something for me, as I bursted into tears, he unwrapped hand-made earrings for me and every girl in my group. I love you Tony. I gave him a hug and said goodbye, Tony became my Kenyan crush and I am sad to know I may never see him again. Back in America, I found out Tony's story while editing our documentary. Tony is also around 24 years old, and he has dreams of being a lawyer. He also lost his family and traveled to Nairobi as a younger man. He mentioned that he would like to help the streetboys because he knows he did not have many opportunities in his life and did not take advantage of the ones that he did have. Tony became the star of many of our interviews because he is an eloquent speaker and offers words of inspiration. Sigh, I will stop talking about Tony now because he is one of the few boys we may really never see again.
Cetrick:
I met Cetrick on our last day in Kenya. I was asked by my group to break him out of his shell and so I went to work getting to know him. Cetrick wasn't as shy as the other boys. He went to school and told me he liked to dance and play sports. He lived with Allan, Kabro, and David but was working on getting his own place. Cetrick was also younger than most of the other boys we met, somewhere in between 17-19 yrs old (one can never be sure with the sly Kenyan lies). Anyway! I took to Cetrick well and his appearance reminded me of my cousin so thus he was deemed "Cousin Cetrick Sterling". He was kind to me by adapting to the name quite easily. The day we spent together was far too short. I complained of having to leave him behind as we prepared to come back to America, though I did give him a bracelet as a token of our friendship. Cetrick called our Professor Mark, as well as Michael (Harambee Staff member ) in order to contact me and ask me not to be sad about our departure. He promised he would come to see us goodbye and I realized that Cetrick gained more from that day than any one of us had noticed. After arriving back in America, I talked to Cetrick often. I found out he wakes up at 5am and makes a 2 hour trek to school everyday, which was why it took us so long to meet him. I also found that he has a sister whom he does not get to see often. Cetrick was eager for me to come back and visit and soon I would realize why, one day, out of nowhere, he said he loved me. I was taken back by this and though I wanted to be as polite as possible I knew that he had been alluding to romantic feelings for some time. I told Cetrick that he could not love me, because he did not know me well enough to really feel that way. Except for a few surface conversations after that, Cetrick has not spoken to me since.
These are not all the boys I met in Kenya but they are some of the ones that left a lasting impression on me. I miss them terribly and I hope to one day see them again in the height of prosperity (however one chooses to define that). The boys of Kenya will always have a special place in my heart, though sometimes it feels like a hole that won't be filled until we are able to share the same space again. I will try my hardest to make this a reality but the rest will be up to the powers that be, and hopefully we will cross paths again; sharing laughter and love as we once did, Spring Break 2013.
These are not all the boys I met in Kenya but they are some of the ones that left a lasting impression on me. I miss them terribly and I hope to one day see them again in the height of prosperity (however one chooses to define that). The boys of Kenya will always have a special place in my heart, though sometimes it feels like a hole that won't be filled until we are able to share the same space again. I will try my hardest to make this a reality but the rest will be up to the powers that be, and hopefully we will cross paths again; sharing laughter and love as we once did, Spring Break 2013.
Andrew
Ok, so I know I have been going kind of back and forth with the posts in Kenya, and after Kenya; but to make it clear, this post is mostly about after Kenya. Hahaha, my life is just a big blur of pre/post- Kenya at this point. But anyway! Meet Andrew.
Andrew is a former streetboy, currently living in my hometown of Brooklyn, NY with a host family and going to prep-school through the Harambee program. We did not meet Andrew in Kenya nor did we find out much about him. For a short moment we met his brother Patrick who still lives in Kenya, and we met many of Andrew's friends. However, when we got back from Kenya and as we tried to settle into our lives once again, I received a Facebook message from Andrew. The message went something like:
You don't know me, but I see that you have met my brother and friends in Kenya. Are you one of Mark's students?
Naturally, since I missed my friends in Kenya so much and they were also friends of Andrew I responded quite pleasantly and engaged in conversation. I have been talking to Andrew regularly since then. He is excited to meet me when I go back to NYC and I'm excited to meet him as well. The more important thing to know about Andrew however is that he is discovering American race relations heavily and many of our conversations shift into the subject.
Originally, Andrew just talked about how much he loved going to parties with West Indian people and listening to the music and dancing. We bonded on this because I am West Indian and grew up in that environment so it always sounds like home to me. Next however, I discovered Andrew's host family was wealthy and even had maids! I could not help but laugh when he told me because up until this point Andrew seemed like just another one of my friends from New York (besides being much younger), the subject of maids drew a line between how much we could relate and in a weird way I was almost offended by it. He just ... doesn't need maids. lol. But! I've grown enough to know that when people want what they want and can afford it, it's more likely none of the world's business. Andrew was a streetboy, now he has maids and buffet dinners, he loves his host family and his new life but he remembers where he came from. He tries to sneak around to help his maids sometimes so he doesn't feel lazy, and he tells me often how much he misses home.
Andrew has an interesting distribution of friends. A good portion of them are white because he goes to a prep-school in Manhattan and that is the general population of that group. He also, somehow, has made friends that African-American and live in Harlem or different parts of Brooklyn, they teach him urban culture and slang. In the beginning, Andrew distinguished himself from his African-American friends. He said he loved black people, he asked why black people don't play soccer, he asked a bunch of questions about black people because to him he was still African. As we continued to talk he asked more questions about his white friends, why they think all black people are ghetto? Why they make fun of him when he buys melon or fried chicken? Why movies like 42 (the Jackie Robinson story) create a rift between them. We talked about these things, things I'd never had to explain diplomatically before and it almost scared me. Andrew has only been in America for a few months and he already has learned so much. His peers are enamored with him because he is novel to them, but soon enough (as seems to be happening) he will fall into their general perception of black people and Andrew will either have to cope with that or fall into a general perception of white people, which may not fair well with his host family. I'm happy to be there for Andrew to talk to about these things but it also makes me reflect on again the simplicity of being in Kenya.
America is so different from many other countries because of our large melting pot and the history of racism that exists here. We may be wealthy but now a large portion of the population is unhappy because they face things like this every day. It would be nice if there was a big emphasis on community and nationality in America like there is in Kenya. It would be nice if we could transcend the stereotypes that have dominated our social structure for years and probably will dominate for years to come.
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| Andrew, his grandmother, and his brother Patrick. |
Andrew is a former streetboy, currently living in my hometown of Brooklyn, NY with a host family and going to prep-school through the Harambee program. We did not meet Andrew in Kenya nor did we find out much about him. For a short moment we met his brother Patrick who still lives in Kenya, and we met many of Andrew's friends. However, when we got back from Kenya and as we tried to settle into our lives once again, I received a Facebook message from Andrew. The message went something like:
You don't know me, but I see that you have met my brother and friends in Kenya. Are you one of Mark's students?
Naturally, since I missed my friends in Kenya so much and they were also friends of Andrew I responded quite pleasantly and engaged in conversation. I have been talking to Andrew regularly since then. He is excited to meet me when I go back to NYC and I'm excited to meet him as well. The more important thing to know about Andrew however is that he is discovering American race relations heavily and many of our conversations shift into the subject.
Originally, Andrew just talked about how much he loved going to parties with West Indian people and listening to the music and dancing. We bonded on this because I am West Indian and grew up in that environment so it always sounds like home to me. Next however, I discovered Andrew's host family was wealthy and even had maids! I could not help but laugh when he told me because up until this point Andrew seemed like just another one of my friends from New York (besides being much younger), the subject of maids drew a line between how much we could relate and in a weird way I was almost offended by it. He just ... doesn't need maids. lol. But! I've grown enough to know that when people want what they want and can afford it, it's more likely none of the world's business. Andrew was a streetboy, now he has maids and buffet dinners, he loves his host family and his new life but he remembers where he came from. He tries to sneak around to help his maids sometimes so he doesn't feel lazy, and he tells me often how much he misses home.
 |
| Andrew the American (almost) |
Andrew has an interesting distribution of friends. A good portion of them are white because he goes to a prep-school in Manhattan and that is the general population of that group. He also, somehow, has made friends that African-American and live in Harlem or different parts of Brooklyn, they teach him urban culture and slang. In the beginning, Andrew distinguished himself from his African-American friends. He said he loved black people, he asked why black people don't play soccer, he asked a bunch of questions about black people because to him he was still African. As we continued to talk he asked more questions about his white friends, why they think all black people are ghetto? Why they make fun of him when he buys melon or fried chicken? Why movies like 42 (the Jackie Robinson story) create a rift between them. We talked about these things, things I'd never had to explain diplomatically before and it almost scared me. Andrew has only been in America for a few months and he already has learned so much. His peers are enamored with him because he is novel to them, but soon enough (as seems to be happening) he will fall into their general perception of black people and Andrew will either have to cope with that or fall into a general perception of white people, which may not fair well with his host family. I'm happy to be there for Andrew to talk to about these things but it also makes me reflect on again the simplicity of being in Kenya.
America is so different from many other countries because of our large melting pot and the history of racism that exists here. We may be wealthy but now a large portion of the population is unhappy because they face things like this every day. It would be nice if there was a big emphasis on community and nationality in America like there is in Kenya. It would be nice if we could transcend the stereotypes that have dominated our social structure for years and probably will dominate for years to come.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Show me the money!
Trip Log:
Today we are leaving Safari. I’m impressed we have only been here for two days when it feels like a month. My throat is killing me!!! It hurts so bad and I hope I don’t end up getting really sick while I’m here. I met Amos today, he is very.... hmmm... attractive? His personality is very bubbly and happy and that's what I mean by attractive. He just is a fun-loving person and he has been through some things clearly, but none of that really phases him. I think he seems to love Kenya and loves the Soccer Queens, which gives me the idea that his life must be very fulfilling which obviously makes me wonder about my own. I want to be that person, who is fulfilled by what they do with their time. I know I want to be a mother, I feel strongly about that. But I’m not exactly sure what type of profession would suit me and where it would take me. I guess I’m driven by money, and maybe that holds me back. It's interesting here, people don’t seem to be motivated by money, they tend to live off the land or what they have and that makes them happy or at least relieves stress. But at the same time, they hound us for money all the time, even the babies. I'm left to believe that the small dependency they may have on money must take away from the simplicity of it all.
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| Amos <3 |
Amos, Amos, Amos. You have never met people like Amos and David, I am just sure of it. I cannot explain how much I LOVE Amos and David, they are a large portion of why I fell in love with Kenya. Getting to know Amos and David really brought social awareness to the forefront for our group. They explained to us some of the things they have experienced and where they feel Kenya needs to progress as a country. Within all these conversations, the one thing I found out about Amos and David (other than the fact that they are awesmazing, and oodles of fun) is that they love Kenya. Shocker?! Maybe not, but it shocked me! You would think due to Kenya's poor economy and major class differences that people would be unhappy with the way they live, but this is not true. Many people want to advance themselves and have new experiences but they prefer to be in Kenya than anywhere else. A lot of people have not experienced anywhere else, but their desires to do so are also quite slim. I realized that many of the people we met including David and Amos did not feel the need to live beyond their means as everyone seems to in America. They liked being outside, interacting with the community and taking things slow. I though this was INCREDIBLE.
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| David, Cetrick, and I at the Giraffe Observatory |
The merchants that we encountered in Kenya, quite frankly, made me EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE. I have never experienced people shoving items at me in every which direction to try and convince me or my peers to make purchases. The sheer amount of anxiety and anger I was experiencing, exhausted me as I tried to hold back my aggression towards the entire situation. I wrote intensely about how hard it was for me to cope with the idea of being wealthier than someone else. I could not fathom the idea of people asking ME for money! and as it happened to us frequently, I had to realize that regardless of where I've come from or what I think of myself, everyone here is just trying to make a living the best way they can. No one is trying to inconvenience me and the selfishness of my actions was making me feel angry and guilty at the same time. Mostly, I was confused and wanted to cry.
I give kudos to Dennis, our guide/friend/ and van driver for helping us (or maybe me in particular) feel more comfortable being approached by people. Dennis reminded me of my Dad, I felt he would always be there if we needed him and he reassured us that things will be okay no matter how uncomfortable they may have seemed at the time. He filled us in on history, and funny stories that made everything more understandable and easier to digest. Dennis along with David and Amos were integral parts of my adjustment to being in a different country.
All of these experiences tie into my take-away from these key individuals: money is not everything. For this reason I decided to follow my heart in choosing what steps to take for the rest of my academic career. I want to have a direct impact on people and I want to be able to build relationships with the people I am aiming to work with. For these reasons I have chosen to continue on a path towards becoming a public health practitioner and hopefully moving on to working on international/global health.
NEXT POST: Andrew
NEXT POST: Andrew
Tradition v. Growing up
Trip log:
"On our way to safari, we've passed so many people. People who live in remoteplaces and bustling markets. We've met children and seen so many plants andanimals. I feel the overwhelming real ness of being here. Its a dream, apicture, a video clip or something intangible and yet under my feet. Researchalive. Most importantly though I'm sensing a turning point in my life. I've hadno goals after this I've had no passion for anything in particular but I knowsomething now. I know that things that children only dream about and things thatseem impossible take endurance. And for that reason I now hope to endure toaccomplish more, more than I thought possible. Inevitably I am becomingthe girl that is out of touch. The one who shares stories but notexperiences. Soon enough I'll have to embrace the fact that my accomplishmentsdo not void my authenticity, but they do advance you away from things you onceidentified with. That's growth I suppose. So far, Africa has taught me growthand respect for people, for lives not yet lived and those left in the past."
As we drove to the Masai Resort, I noticed a change in the environment from city-life to the rural/remote lifestyle of the Masai people. It triggered a very interesting response in me to notice how Kenyans were able to preserve their past and future within miles of each other. In America, I feel it is so common to leave your past behind you as you move forward, however, in Kenya both cultures (traditional & popular) seemed like two halves of a whole country, nothing really left behind because both were treated with a mutual respect. I pondered this as we moved through our 6 hour ride, and my body became numb from the tremendous amount of bouncing, shaking, and jumping along the rocky road of the Rift Valley. I looked out the window for hours before it dawned on me that Kenya was showing me another life lesson. I have been afraid of moving away from the person I was growing up. Worried that if I deviated too far from my inner-city kid mentality, I would no longer be authentic and would lose a piece of my identity. In some ways, this idea has held me back from pursuing other opportunities, mostly because it has become a mental block in my perception of the things I have and am able to accomplish. I've worried about becoming the symbol of privilege that I'd always resented, but on this trip I realized it was soon to be inevitable.
However, just as the Masai people exist in the same world and time as the more modern citizens of Nairobi, development incorporates all aspect of a person's identity. I will always be the girl I grew up as, her experiences are my own. As I grow older some things will have to change and many things will have to be let go to make room for the new experiences and education that will be added to my life. This does not make me any less authentic, and this is not me selling out. I've learned to look at it as two halves of the entire me, my past and my future working together to build the life that I am living. I appreciated this in the same way I appreciated learning the traditional values and customs of the Masai, and comparing them to the very similar values of the streetboys we spoke to in Dagoretti Market. Many things can change about a country, a culture, or a person in the process of growth, but the essence of who you are will always be incorporated in who you want to be.
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| Arielle, Corinne, Kelly, Meagan, Raven, and I singing with the women of the Masai Mara village. |
Saturday, April 20, 2013
The Kabro Story
Okay! So we got through after Kenya, Let's talk about what happened IN Kenya. During our trip I learned a lot about myself which I was not expecting to happen.
The moment I remember the most, and that I think set the tone for the rest of the trip, was watching the Harambee/ D4K (the NGO we were working with) video that featured Kabro, one of our Kenyan friends/ Harambee boy. In the video, Kabro was thirteen years old living on the streets of Dagoretti Market. We watched him buy glue to sniff, struggle for food, and talk about his home life. He was small, smiling a lot, determined, and at the time reminded me of a baby or a little brother. The entire viewing experience was sort of surreal because Kabro was sitting right in the room with us older now and very different from the boy in the film. In the video, Kabro goes back home to his mother and tells her that he wants to do well and does not want to be on the street, or cause trouble, or sniff glue anymore. He says he wants to be successful so that he can help his mother and his family, and he also cooks for them.
When I watched him do/say these things, I couldn't help but think about the ambitions that got me to college. The whole reason I studied or did anything right in school was because I wanted so badly to never have to see my family live in the conditions we were in. I did not want to have to worry if our car would be outside the next morning, or if I will fall asleep on a rat tonight, or what the heck kind of fungus is growing on our ceiling. Relative to the countries we represent, I understood Kabro's wish to just not have to witness anymore stress and suffering. I understood the streetboys desires to not be a burden on their parents who could barely afford enough food to feed them, and it was here that I really began to understand what we were up against. These boys are like inner-city boys, like the boys I grew up with. They are in search of family, guidance, and a way out. It was interesting to me to see how many forms one problem can take.
The moment I remember the most, and that I think set the tone for the rest of the trip, was watching the Harambee/ D4K (the NGO we were working with) video that featured Kabro, one of our Kenyan friends/ Harambee boy. In the video, Kabro was thirteen years old living on the streets of Dagoretti Market. We watched him buy glue to sniff, struggle for food, and talk about his home life. He was small, smiling a lot, determined, and at the time reminded me of a baby or a little brother. The entire viewing experience was sort of surreal because Kabro was sitting right in the room with us older now and very different from the boy in the film. In the video, Kabro goes back home to his mother and tells her that he wants to do well and does not want to be on the street, or cause trouble, or sniff glue anymore. He says he wants to be successful so that he can help his mother and his family, and he also cooks for them.
When I watched him do/say these things, I couldn't help but think about the ambitions that got me to college. The whole reason I studied or did anything right in school was because I wanted so badly to never have to see my family live in the conditions we were in. I did not want to have to worry if our car would be outside the next morning, or if I will fall asleep on a rat tonight, or what the heck kind of fungus is growing on our ceiling. Relative to the countries we represent, I understood Kabro's wish to just not have to witness anymore stress and suffering. I understood the streetboys desires to not be a burden on their parents who could barely afford enough food to feed them, and it was here that I really began to understand what we were up against. These boys are like inner-city boys, like the boys I grew up with. They are in search of family, guidance, and a way out. It was interesting to me to see how many forms one problem can take.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Nakupenda
Well! It's been a while but I'm back! There are so many things to address but this blog is simply going to talk about my after-Kenya woes, so let's get to it!
As I had said before, Kenya was a place I'd only dreamed about. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would actually make it there, Incredible. And yet for some reason I was incredibly un-effected when I arrived there. Everything seemed so familiar, so comfortable, nothing really "spoke" to me. Which disappointed my quite honestly. All my anxiousness, and nerves seemed soo... trivial at this point. Kenya was beautiful, Kenya was fun, Kenya was different, but all the adjectives in the world wouldn't compare to the IDEA of what Kenya was. That being said, I LOVED EVERY STINKIN' MINUTE OF IT!
Post-trip: What a wave of nostalgia What an absolute disdain for my life and environment, what a freaking wake-up call!I didn't realize how much I was affected by Kenya until it was time to leave. Until we drove up to the street boys for the last time and I knew that the chances of us ever running into each other again were slim to none. All of it just resonated so powerfully in my mind of how many lives I can't touch, and how selfish it is and feels to be here, on campus when there is so much more out there. How upsetting! to sit at the lunch table with my friends and listen to their boy problems and their small life issues, for the first time I felt so far outside of my bubble that every day just felt like I was moving along the outside of a window, looking in. I hated that feeling. It's like being orphaned, having a family and just abruptly losing it, knowing they are carrying on without you somewhere to far to reach. I just wanted to go away for a while. Re-group, re-think about all of my decisions and why they suddenly are making me unhappy. I clung to my class group, to some extent we clung to each other. Each of us knowing suddenly, how out of place we felt on this juvenile campus. Having met people who struck as more mature than ourselves at younger ages. How does one cope with the idea that the place you have visited now feels more like home than home itself? I think that was the question we cried, laughed, and sighed over... in the end that's also what brought us so much closer.
That feeling has subsided slowly as I've assimilated back into campus culture, but it hasn't completely gone away. The work that we put into this class now has become a necessity We no longer meet out of obligation, we meet because there is a part of everyone in this group that only we can understand. The things that we do, and the way that we feel, is a direct reflection of the impact of every person we met on our trip. Michael, Michael M., David, Amos, Cabro, Allan, Cetrick, Soccer Queens, Rachel, Roman, Tony, David, Simon, Ezekial, King Pin (Simon), Councilman Karanja, Peter, ... even as I list their names now I have the stark image of Michael Mungai sitting in the corner of Dagoretti Market, surrounded by familiar faces. He looks different than they do, but the feeling, the feeling in that moment is unmistakable. It's a welcome home that is bittersweet. It's everything you love and everything you've lost at the same time... the only way I can explain it. Our mission as a group has become less about the grade and more about our friends. The friends that we may or may not encounter again are the people we want to empower now, at this moment, in any way that we can. That's why we commit as much time and effort as we do, we now share the same dreams as they do.
So that's why the coming home transition felt like hell. One moment you're truly understanding what it means to live in every moment, and the next you're dropped back into your superficial lifestyle. For me personally? I had no one to turn to. Recently, I lost my closest friends due to unresolved differences and... I felt so alone in this. It was nice to be treated so nicely by the people we met in Kenya, and it was nice to witness/feel support from every angle. The moment we left was the first time within that week & change, that I remembered what it felt like to be alone, and of course I hated that as well. A part of me still feels like I belong somewhere, with the friends that I made and their memory of me. I hope at least, that they will always consider me (for however short our time was) a close friend. I am granted relief in every moment I get a FB post, or message from someone who hasn't forgotten me yet. And I look forward to meeting Andrew who is now living with a host family in Brooklyn and always has a lot to share with me about his culture, his past, and our friends. I don't know if this blog post conveyed my feelings accurately, but this was my stream of though when asked how I felt after the trip. It was all this, and more.
Post-trip: What a wave of nostalgia What an absolute disdain for my life and environment, what a freaking wake-up call!I didn't realize how much I was affected by Kenya until it was time to leave. Until we drove up to the street boys for the last time and I knew that the chances of us ever running into each other again were slim to none. All of it just resonated so powerfully in my mind of how many lives I can't touch, and how selfish it is and feels to be here, on campus when there is so much more out there. How upsetting! to sit at the lunch table with my friends and listen to their boy problems and their small life issues, for the first time I felt so far outside of my bubble that every day just felt like I was moving along the outside of a window, looking in. I hated that feeling. It's like being orphaned, having a family and just abruptly losing it, knowing they are carrying on without you somewhere to far to reach. I just wanted to go away for a while. Re-group, re-think about all of my decisions and why they suddenly are making me unhappy. I clung to my class group, to some extent we clung to each other. Each of us knowing suddenly, how out of place we felt on this juvenile campus. Having met people who struck as more mature than ourselves at younger ages. How does one cope with the idea that the place you have visited now feels more like home than home itself? I think that was the question we cried, laughed, and sighed over... in the end that's also what brought us so much closer.
That feeling has subsided slowly as I've assimilated back into campus culture, but it hasn't completely gone away. The work that we put into this class now has become a necessity We no longer meet out of obligation, we meet because there is a part of everyone in this group that only we can understand. The things that we do, and the way that we feel, is a direct reflection of the impact of every person we met on our trip. Michael, Michael M., David, Amos, Cabro, Allan, Cetrick, Soccer Queens, Rachel, Roman, Tony, David, Simon, Ezekial, King Pin (Simon), Councilman Karanja, Peter, ... even as I list their names now I have the stark image of Michael Mungai sitting in the corner of Dagoretti Market, surrounded by familiar faces. He looks different than they do, but the feeling, the feeling in that moment is unmistakable. It's a welcome home that is bittersweet. It's everything you love and everything you've lost at the same time... the only way I can explain it. Our mission as a group has become less about the grade and more about our friends. The friends that we may or may not encounter again are the people we want to empower now, at this moment, in any way that we can. That's why we commit as much time and effort as we do, we now share the same dreams as they do.
So that's why the coming home transition felt like hell. One moment you're truly understanding what it means to live in every moment, and the next you're dropped back into your superficial lifestyle. For me personally? I had no one to turn to. Recently, I lost my closest friends due to unresolved differences and... I felt so alone in this. It was nice to be treated so nicely by the people we met in Kenya, and it was nice to witness/feel support from every angle. The moment we left was the first time within that week & change, that I remembered what it felt like to be alone, and of course I hated that as well. A part of me still feels like I belong somewhere, with the friends that I made and their memory of me. I hope at least, that they will always consider me (for however short our time was) a close friend. I am granted relief in every moment I get a FB post, or message from someone who hasn't forgotten me yet. And I look forward to meeting Andrew who is now living with a host family in Brooklyn and always has a lot to share with me about his culture, his past, and our friends. I don't know if this blog post conveyed my feelings accurately, but this was my stream of though when asked how I felt after the trip. It was all this, and more.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
What's next?
Time flies when you're being pressured to perform. As much as I'd love to reflect and write and add personal effects and all that, there just isn't enough time in the day. It's 3 am and I'm just getting to this post.
First, I looked up Samsung's initiative with the solar powered education system. Very cool idea. Which led me to this solar powered charter school in the U.S. (www.starschool.org) VERY VERY cool place. Which then led me to their navajo peace making website that works in conjunction with the school... ahem... VERY, VERY, VERY COOL (http://navajopeacemaking.org). This school uses sustainable all over it's website and it appears to have every right to. Of course, as I said, time flies so I was not able to do a thorough inspection, but from what I've seen so far? Amazing. Naturally I loved this idea for Kenya. I loved the idea of solar power for electricity because honestly, in thinking about providing education to people I had this overwhelming, nagging thought that hungry kids don't study! You can't just hand out books without handing out at least some type of food. A refrigerator, freezer, or microwave would certainly help with that issue and solar power is just the way to get us there. But back to the school! I like this school for so many reasons, one of them being their curriculum. The school is located in Arizona in a remote region near an Indian reservation. The founders of the school had incorporated Navajo culture into the school culture. The children are not only able to learn about some of the lessons and morals important to Navajo Native Americans but they get to exercise it practically in their daily education practices. The peacemaking is one example of how the school has attempted to preserve native culture within their school and students.
Somehow I also stumbled upon this other website (http://www.solarenergy.org) WELL they just have an extremely extensive education program on this site, and once again did not investigate as much as I would have liked, but a lot of their programs seem to be done online. They've got online textbooks, online instructors, online certification programs and even more strange is it's an entire already developed curriculum based on learning and becoming certified in solar power? WHAT?! I digress, I don't know how much of the program is online and how much is an actual... physical... education system? But either way I'm impressed by how much they have been able to develop this ...program... and how much of it is available online.
PHEW! that being said, I'm moving on to a reaction.
So! I watched the trailer for Tough Bond and for some reason I was... surprised. It's not that I had a glamorized view of Kenya, I most certainly did not but... I guess I just didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what huffing glue looked like and I didn't know what the boys would look and sound like or how active they might be. Somehow just seeing it there and putting together the imagery with the narrative by Orrs has thrown together a reality that just... isn't the same as what my mind portrayed. I don't really know what makes it different except for that it may just be more real. I've been thoroughly excited for this trip but for the first time I'm actually concerned. Concerned for what is to come, what I will hear, what I will see and how I will feel. I guess I tried to imagine a Kenya in America and have been working with that image, but the Kenya in the film is nothing, seems nothing, at all like America. The fatal American character flaw, not being able to extend your imagination beyond the confines of your own life and experiences.
First, I looked up Samsung's initiative with the solar powered education system. Very cool idea. Which led me to this solar powered charter school in the U.S. (www.starschool.org) VERY VERY cool place. Which then led me to their navajo peace making website that works in conjunction with the school... ahem... VERY, VERY, VERY COOL (http://navajopeacemaking.org). This school uses sustainable all over it's website and it appears to have every right to. Of course, as I said, time flies so I was not able to do a thorough inspection, but from what I've seen so far? Amazing. Naturally I loved this idea for Kenya. I loved the idea of solar power for electricity because honestly, in thinking about providing education to people I had this overwhelming, nagging thought that hungry kids don't study! You can't just hand out books without handing out at least some type of food. A refrigerator, freezer, or microwave would certainly help with that issue and solar power is just the way to get us there. But back to the school! I like this school for so many reasons, one of them being their curriculum. The school is located in Arizona in a remote region near an Indian reservation. The founders of the school had incorporated Navajo culture into the school culture. The children are not only able to learn about some of the lessons and morals important to Navajo Native Americans but they get to exercise it practically in their daily education practices. The peacemaking is one example of how the school has attempted to preserve native culture within their school and students.
Somehow I also stumbled upon this other website (http://www.solarenergy.org) WELL they just have an extremely extensive education program on this site, and once again did not investigate as much as I would have liked, but a lot of their programs seem to be done online. They've got online textbooks, online instructors, online certification programs and even more strange is it's an entire already developed curriculum based on learning and becoming certified in solar power? WHAT?! I digress, I don't know how much of the program is online and how much is an actual... physical... education system? But either way I'm impressed by how much they have been able to develop this ...program... and how much of it is available online.
PHEW! that being said, I'm moving on to a reaction.
So! I watched the trailer for Tough Bond and for some reason I was... surprised. It's not that I had a glamorized view of Kenya, I most certainly did not but... I guess I just didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what huffing glue looked like and I didn't know what the boys would look and sound like or how active they might be. Somehow just seeing it there and putting together the imagery with the narrative by Orrs has thrown together a reality that just... isn't the same as what my mind portrayed. I don't really know what makes it different except for that it may just be more real. I've been thoroughly excited for this trip but for the first time I'm actually concerned. Concerned for what is to come, what I will hear, what I will see and how I will feel. I guess I tried to imagine a Kenya in America and have been working with that image, but the Kenya in the film is nothing, seems nothing, at all like America. The fatal American character flaw, not being able to extend your imagination beyond the confines of your own life and experiences.
Overdue post
WARNING: This post quickly turned from good spirited into a rant. It stops abruptly due to that realization.
I will start this blog by saying there was once a jail somewhere, or maybe it's still there, that was plagued by insurmountable violence. The inmates were unhappy and aggressive. I will end this short story by saying once the walls were painted pink the violence subsided. No other jail adopted this method. It wasn't popular, even though it did work. I can't honestly tell you I know why the pink walls worked, I can't. But I can say that if I was the creative director of a prison or the owner I would say to my inmates some of you will be in here for the rest of your lives, we don't have many options, but what color would you like for the walls? Because you see it is not me who has to live in this place I am not the one who does not to go home at night and so if the least we can do is ask, what might make this punishment a little more bearable, a pink wall isn't so much to supply.
So somewhere an Italian man is giving a Ted talk on how he listens to the voices of his clients in order to help them and that it was successful. But do we adopt that plan of action? Or do we go on with the original grey walls because THAT is how we know to go about things.
The first thing I've come to learn about helping others is to throw out everything you think you know about a person or people you've never met. There is nothing I can tell a local person about their culture that they do not already know.
I resented the conversation in class that spoke about our trips being ... Well for lack of a better term, completely self-serving. I resented it because I honestly cannot see myself as better than any other person. I cannot see myself offering to provide some great relief when I know for a fact that I don't come from some sort of supreme livng circumstance. That being said I did begin to realize that my entire existence at Lehigh makes more privileged than many people. Lehigh in itself puts us in a position to look down on the rest of the world and so in that way, okay, I give in my higher education does make me the white man. But to put that aside, if that is even possible, I go back to my motivation for this class and my conviction that I am not the self-serving and imposing service student. I joined the class to learn everything I can. To learn about a country, a culture, and a people but most important to do that with a first hand experience. For that reason I'd known that I wanted to hear the stories of the people around me. I wanted then to act out the milestones in their lives, sing their sorrows, speak their aspirations above all I wanted to encourage expression in any way. Because the more I know about them, the more open dialogue becomes the wider the path of knowledge becomes and the easier that transaction behind to flow, from ignorant to informed and from culture to culture. And when the expression is out of the way and all that is left is the impact of what has been shared, awareness follows. The very sudden awareness of all you have been privy too and all u have missed. And suddenly awareness lends to insight which lends to creativity and that is when collaboration takes hold. This is important because there is no success without an active partnership. I respect the person who said u need to build a relationship with the people you aim to serve and that is true.
I will start this blog by saying there was once a jail somewhere, or maybe it's still there, that was plagued by insurmountable violence. The inmates were unhappy and aggressive. I will end this short story by saying once the walls were painted pink the violence subsided. No other jail adopted this method. It wasn't popular, even though it did work. I can't honestly tell you I know why the pink walls worked, I can't. But I can say that if I was the creative director of a prison or the owner I would say to my inmates some of you will be in here for the rest of your lives, we don't have many options, but what color would you like for the walls? Because you see it is not me who has to live in this place I am not the one who does not to go home at night and so if the least we can do is ask, what might make this punishment a little more bearable, a pink wall isn't so much to supply.
So somewhere an Italian man is giving a Ted talk on how he listens to the voices of his clients in order to help them and that it was successful. But do we adopt that plan of action? Or do we go on with the original grey walls because THAT is how we know to go about things.
The first thing I've come to learn about helping others is to throw out everything you think you know about a person or people you've never met. There is nothing I can tell a local person about their culture that they do not already know.
I resented the conversation in class that spoke about our trips being ... Well for lack of a better term, completely self-serving. I resented it because I honestly cannot see myself as better than any other person. I cannot see myself offering to provide some great relief when I know for a fact that I don't come from some sort of supreme livng circumstance. That being said I did begin to realize that my entire existence at Lehigh makes more privileged than many people. Lehigh in itself puts us in a position to look down on the rest of the world and so in that way, okay, I give in my higher education does make me the white man. But to put that aside, if that is even possible, I go back to my motivation for this class and my conviction that I am not the self-serving and imposing service student. I joined the class to learn everything I can. To learn about a country, a culture, and a people but most important to do that with a first hand experience. For that reason I'd known that I wanted to hear the stories of the people around me. I wanted then to act out the milestones in their lives, sing their sorrows, speak their aspirations above all I wanted to encourage expression in any way. Because the more I know about them, the more open dialogue becomes the wider the path of knowledge becomes and the easier that transaction behind to flow, from ignorant to informed and from culture to culture. And when the expression is out of the way and all that is left is the impact of what has been shared, awareness follows. The very sudden awareness of all you have been privy too and all u have missed. And suddenly awareness lends to insight which lends to creativity and that is when collaboration takes hold. This is important because there is no success without an active partnership. I respect the person who said u need to build a relationship with the people you aim to serve and that is true.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Schooling the world
I've watched the documentary "Schooling the World" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnzVNO_J6sk) and felt a huge sigh of despair welding up in my chest. I identified with this documentary in so many ways. Each scene that progressed brought on another thought or experience that seemed so relevant to the point being made in the film. Yet, the reoccurring topic for many of the people who provided testimonials, was that people (everywhere) use school to make money. And for once, I wanted to be the sociologist, anthropologist, NGO owner who says, "money isn't everything". But I can't do that. It saddens me because I know for nearly my entire life, all I have ever considered a reasonable goal was to make money. It is only recently that I decided to explore my passions, part of the reason why I enrolled in this class was to discover what it is I love to do.
Passions are a privilege of the wealthy. In my family we've done many of the things mentioned in the film, except maybe on a smaller scale. I grew up in Brooklyn, NY; and it is true that this is the place that shaped my culture and my education about my ancestors. I was lucky that I was allotted the opportunity to even learn about my culture, because so few people are. When I got old enough, I began going to school in Manhattan because a) Manhattan is a production capital and b) schools in Brooklyn did not produce graduates. There are many things to say about getting educated in Manhattan as opposed to Brooklyn but to stay on topic I'll fast forward to moving even farther out and attending college in Pennsylvania. All these decisions, essentially, were based on the idea that the farther I can move away from poverty, the less likely I will be sucked into it. If I could see professionals, if it became a tangible entity than there is no reason I can't one day be in a Manhattan sky-rise and eating at every fancy restaurant on the upper west side. My father, for a long time, warned me against my propensity to have material goals. He told me that I was being naive in my ideas of what makes a good life and though I now agree that he was right, that truth is still very hard to swallow. How do you survive if you are not making money? and a lot of it? Did I go to college, did I move away, did I sacrifice just to end up just like my parents? In some ways I feel that is exactly what will happen, and not because I made the decision to pursue higher education, but because I did it with the intent to live someone else's life without yet, discovering my own.
This resonated so much with me as it was portrayed in the film. The burden of education is not that it includes sacrifice, but that it is consistently geared to produce students who want to live someone else's life. There is no room for internal reflection, or personal growth in today's education system and global economy. What there is room for is greed, power, and fear. So much of today's problems, including problems within the global market itself, is the loss of values and the diversity of values. Studies have shown that people would rather spend time at work, then time at home. Family life is now a burden to the average professional who is much more conditioned to structure, regulations, and productivity. I appreciated the statements made by some of the women in the film, that talked about the value of earth and water. How parents taught children to preserve and respect these resources, and how to develop a relationship with their environment. I wonder, if we could all just wear a pair of glasses that would allow us to withdraw from the material values that are plastered in every area of modern society, would really be able to "see" what is around us. By that I mean, If I had the ability to look around Manhattan, and instead of being in search of fame, fortune, big apartments, and pride; I saw art, creators, culture, things that inspire me as an individual. Wouldn't that be the most popular thing on the market!
But that is always the compromise. To spend time on yourself means to waste time, to be less productive, and to lose opportunity, that is what we are taught. At the end of the day, if you do not want to work in McDonalds, you have to live life by these rules.
In psychology we talk a lot about stories. How telling stories is so extremely powerful in human understanding and development. In English we talk about different ways stories are told, different vehicles for communication other than language. And I see a vital part of global education being wasted. The opportunity to be an individual and the opportunity to share your story. That is how you preserve culture, that is how you develop self-understanding, and that is how you share knowledge. Before we are taught to compete, we should be taught to understand. A life lived without an understanding of the world and your specific function in it, is a life that ends in corporate drones or hapless merchants.
I'd like to believe in humanity, and I'd like to believe in change. So maybe that starts here, with how we provide education to those who have none. Maybe we do teach philosophy instead of engineering, and theatre instead of programming. Maybe we teach people how to value themselves and each other for what they have to offer before applying it to modern societies standards of what it means to be successful and to have "made it". Or maybe that is idealistic and impractical and a luxury of higher education that I have now adopted. Am I turning into the far removed, helping hand? For now? No, just a dreamer.
Passions are a privilege of the wealthy. In my family we've done many of the things mentioned in the film, except maybe on a smaller scale. I grew up in Brooklyn, NY; and it is true that this is the place that shaped my culture and my education about my ancestors. I was lucky that I was allotted the opportunity to even learn about my culture, because so few people are. When I got old enough, I began going to school in Manhattan because a) Manhattan is a production capital and b) schools in Brooklyn did not produce graduates. There are many things to say about getting educated in Manhattan as opposed to Brooklyn but to stay on topic I'll fast forward to moving even farther out and attending college in Pennsylvania. All these decisions, essentially, were based on the idea that the farther I can move away from poverty, the less likely I will be sucked into it. If I could see professionals, if it became a tangible entity than there is no reason I can't one day be in a Manhattan sky-rise and eating at every fancy restaurant on the upper west side. My father, for a long time, warned me against my propensity to have material goals. He told me that I was being naive in my ideas of what makes a good life and though I now agree that he was right, that truth is still very hard to swallow. How do you survive if you are not making money? and a lot of it? Did I go to college, did I move away, did I sacrifice just to end up just like my parents? In some ways I feel that is exactly what will happen, and not because I made the decision to pursue higher education, but because I did it with the intent to live someone else's life without yet, discovering my own.
This resonated so much with me as it was portrayed in the film. The burden of education is not that it includes sacrifice, but that it is consistently geared to produce students who want to live someone else's life. There is no room for internal reflection, or personal growth in today's education system and global economy. What there is room for is greed, power, and fear. So much of today's problems, including problems within the global market itself, is the loss of values and the diversity of values. Studies have shown that people would rather spend time at work, then time at home. Family life is now a burden to the average professional who is much more conditioned to structure, regulations, and productivity. I appreciated the statements made by some of the women in the film, that talked about the value of earth and water. How parents taught children to preserve and respect these resources, and how to develop a relationship with their environment. I wonder, if we could all just wear a pair of glasses that would allow us to withdraw from the material values that are plastered in every area of modern society, would really be able to "see" what is around us. By that I mean, If I had the ability to look around Manhattan, and instead of being in search of fame, fortune, big apartments, and pride; I saw art, creators, culture, things that inspire me as an individual. Wouldn't that be the most popular thing on the market!
But that is always the compromise. To spend time on yourself means to waste time, to be less productive, and to lose opportunity, that is what we are taught. At the end of the day, if you do not want to work in McDonalds, you have to live life by these rules.
In psychology we talk a lot about stories. How telling stories is so extremely powerful in human understanding and development. In English we talk about different ways stories are told, different vehicles for communication other than language. And I see a vital part of global education being wasted. The opportunity to be an individual and the opportunity to share your story. That is how you preserve culture, that is how you develop self-understanding, and that is how you share knowledge. Before we are taught to compete, we should be taught to understand. A life lived without an understanding of the world and your specific function in it, is a life that ends in corporate drones or hapless merchants.
I'd like to believe in humanity, and I'd like to believe in change. So maybe that starts here, with how we provide education to those who have none. Maybe we do teach philosophy instead of engineering, and theatre instead of programming. Maybe we teach people how to value themselves and each other for what they have to offer before applying it to modern societies standards of what it means to be successful and to have "made it". Or maybe that is idealistic and impractical and a luxury of higher education that I have now adopted. Am I turning into the far removed, helping hand? For now? No, just a dreamer.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Sankofa-
You (the reader) probably don't know anything about me, but if you DID you'd know that my biggest goal and aspiration for college, since before I even knew what college I would go to, was to study abroad. Of course not just ANY study abroad, but I specifically wanted to study abroad in Africa (anywhere but South Africa).
You're probably thinking (like my mother): Why Niomi? Why Africa?
Good question! I wanted to study abroad in Africa because I wanted the opportunity to learn something, or maybe more specifically to be taught something different. I didn't want a generic experience, I did not want to go on vacation, I did not want to "find my roots", or do random tribal dances to feel cool. I wanted to do the thing that everyone else (in NYC) thought was uncool, and I DEFINITELY wanted to put an end to the STUPID stereotypes that as soon as you touch down in anywhere other than S. Africa, you catch a disease -_-. I know, its 2013 and that is still a main concern for some people.
Well let's make a long story short, shall we?
My big plan to study abroad in Africa took many turns. I met a friend at college named Ivy Ochieng who convinced me Kenya was the way to go (naturally, because she was Kenyan). I did research, I spoke to the study abroad office, and I did all the basic footwork; but I just couldn't find the time to fit study abroad in between classes, career goals, internships, financial aid woes, and all the many, many concerns of the avg. college student. I really wasn't sure if I would be able to make this happen. >> FAST FORWARD TO LAST SEMESTER
Last semester I met Prof. Mark Orrs. How? Well, to tell you the truth I saw his course listed in an email first and saved it because I thought it sounded interesting, and I eventually wanted to find out more. Then suddenly, as if through divine intervention, I went to a Malaria talk hosted by none other than Mark Orrs! Well, I'm a shy person. So here I was, knowing I wanted to talk to this professor about his class and instead I just ... kind of ...left. Oh! But the hands of fate would not let me stop there. Eventually I sent the e-mail that landed me in Prof. Orrs' office talking about his new course. I listen, it sounds amazing. Why? Because it's different than anything I've ever done and it's open to anyone! Then he says the magic word, Zambia! At least... I think it was Zambia, I can't even remember anymore at this point.
Anyway-
He says Zambia, I think: Well its not Kenya, but it's the closest shot I've got right now. So I'm on it. We discuss details, and I make a big decisions to push back one of my required courses to fit class into my schedule. What is college for if you can't experiment out of your comfort zone? At this point anyway, I'm running on ambition. Time goes by and divine intervention kicks in one last time to say we are no longer going to Zambia, we're going to Kenya.
We're going to... we're going... KENYA!?!
Well, there you go. It's like a dream come true honestly. I didn't think it was possible, I wasn't quite sure I'd ever get the opportunity and here it is. So maybe to some people this is a unique experience, but to me? It's pretty much everything I've ever wanted out of college. You can bet I'll cry the day it happens; in fact the idea is so surreal to me I'm not even sure I believe we will actually make it there. At this moment, I'm overwhelmed with an emotion that surpasses gratitude. And it's not just the trip to Kenya that does it, but the purpose behind the class as well. We're not going for vacation or even really for service. We're making an effort to understand what life is like for other people and hoping to help improve their quality of life through the means and resources available to them. That's the simplest way (I can think of) to convey an idea that is more complex than we will probably be able to uncover.
My personal goal for this entire class is to learn everything I can, to especially learn the story of another person, and of course the optimum goal is to help in someway, somehow.
This class means a lot to me, it's giving me a chance to pursue a goal that seemed intangible. For that, I'm hoping to give my all to my team and our project. Moreover, I hope that our team is able to give back to the community that we will be working with in a positive way.
You're probably thinking (like my mother): Why Niomi? Why Africa?
Good question! I wanted to study abroad in Africa because I wanted the opportunity to learn something, or maybe more specifically to be taught something different. I didn't want a generic experience, I did not want to go on vacation, I did not want to "find my roots", or do random tribal dances to feel cool. I wanted to do the thing that everyone else (in NYC) thought was uncool, and I DEFINITELY wanted to put an end to the STUPID stereotypes that as soon as you touch down in anywhere other than S. Africa, you catch a disease -_-. I know, its 2013 and that is still a main concern for some people.
Well let's make a long story short, shall we?
My big plan to study abroad in Africa took many turns. I met a friend at college named Ivy Ochieng who convinced me Kenya was the way to go (naturally, because she was Kenyan). I did research, I spoke to the study abroad office, and I did all the basic footwork; but I just couldn't find the time to fit study abroad in between classes, career goals, internships, financial aid woes, and all the many, many concerns of the avg. college student. I really wasn't sure if I would be able to make this happen. >> FAST FORWARD TO LAST SEMESTER
Last semester I met Prof. Mark Orrs. How? Well, to tell you the truth I saw his course listed in an email first and saved it because I thought it sounded interesting, and I eventually wanted to find out more. Then suddenly, as if through divine intervention, I went to a Malaria talk hosted by none other than Mark Orrs! Well, I'm a shy person. So here I was, knowing I wanted to talk to this professor about his class and instead I just ... kind of ...left. Oh! But the hands of fate would not let me stop there. Eventually I sent the e-mail that landed me in Prof. Orrs' office talking about his new course. I listen, it sounds amazing. Why? Because it's different than anything I've ever done and it's open to anyone! Then he says the magic word, Zambia! At least... I think it was Zambia, I can't even remember anymore at this point.
Anyway-
He says Zambia, I think: Well its not Kenya, but it's the closest shot I've got right now. So I'm on it. We discuss details, and I make a big decisions to push back one of my required courses to fit class into my schedule. What is college for if you can't experiment out of your comfort zone? At this point anyway, I'm running on ambition. Time goes by and divine intervention kicks in one last time to say we are no longer going to Zambia, we're going to Kenya.
We're going to... we're going... KENYA!?!
Well, there you go. It's like a dream come true honestly. I didn't think it was possible, I wasn't quite sure I'd ever get the opportunity and here it is. So maybe to some people this is a unique experience, but to me? It's pretty much everything I've ever wanted out of college. You can bet I'll cry the day it happens; in fact the idea is so surreal to me I'm not even sure I believe we will actually make it there. At this moment, I'm overwhelmed with an emotion that surpasses gratitude. And it's not just the trip to Kenya that does it, but the purpose behind the class as well. We're not going for vacation or even really for service. We're making an effort to understand what life is like for other people and hoping to help improve their quality of life through the means and resources available to them. That's the simplest way (I can think of) to convey an idea that is more complex than we will probably be able to uncover.
My personal goal for this entire class is to learn everything I can, to especially learn the story of another person, and of course the optimum goal is to help in someway, somehow.
This class means a lot to me, it's giving me a chance to pursue a goal that seemed intangible. For that, I'm hoping to give my all to my team and our project. Moreover, I hope that our team is able to give back to the community that we will be working with in a positive way.
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