Thursday, May 28, 2015

Time: A Perspective

My younger sister and I were messaging each other through WhatsApp the other day, and I was telling her about how I was feeling rundown. She asked what was going, so I told her about school, marathon training, and other things that were wearing on me. When we ended the conversation, my sister reminded me not to run myself ragged.

Don’t run myself ragged.

The irony in those words struck me when I saw them on my phone’s screen. After all, I was in the Peace Corps in rural South Africa.

A Time to Slow Down
Serving as a volunteer with the Peace Corps is often a time in a person’s life when s/he has fewer responsibilities, and, thus, more free time. I remember in an email exchange with my Country Director she told me to enjoy the slower pace of life and the gained free time. The first few months I arrived at my site, I had loads of free time; more than I knew what to do with. I tried to embrace it. Well, as anyone who knows me knows that I struggle with idle time. I’ve been that way dating back to high school (and perhaps even longer, but my parents would know better than me).
Fetching Water from the Tap (note: literally a few drops at a time)
Filling Time
After a few months, I found ways of getting involved in my school. It wasn’t difficult. There were lots of opportunities from teaching (my main reason for being here) to teaching educators how to use computers to coaching learners how to play Ultimate Frisbee to launching a school library and more. Outside school, I started training for a marathon. I also started making friends with locals and spending time with them. These were all good things because, well, they were life-giving. But I have started to gain a sense of the shadow side to all of these involvements.

Further, it’s not just the involvements that have a shadow side, but also the exorbitant amount of time it takes to complete household chores. Let me illustrate… Doing the laundry. Back in the US, when I wanted to do the laundry, I threw clothes into the washing machine, added detergent, turned the dial, and started the machine. After maybe 35 minutes, I moved the clothes to the dryer, turned the dial, started the machine, and, after maybe 50 minutes, all I had left to do was fold the clothes. Although the machines took about 90 minutes to run through their cycles, I spent approximately 30 minutes actively playing a part in doing the laundry. (Keeping in mind, I didn’t have to stand by the washer and dryer while they worked their way through the cycles.)
Laundry Soaking in a Bucket and a Rinse Bucket Ready and Waiting
Let’s take the same chore and look at it now that I’m here in rural South Africa. First, the time of the day matters as well as the weather. If I start too late in the day, my clothes won’t dry in time before the sunset, and, if it’s anything other than sunny, my clothes won’t dry regardless because the humidity is thick. This all matters because I hang my clothes to dry on a clothesline. After living here for almost a year, I’ve learned that I can dry two “cycles” of clothes on the line if I put the first cycle of clothes up no later than 10:00am (and the weather conditions are suitable). This means that I have to start doing laundry around 8:00am because I have to handwash everything. As you can see, a chore that used to take me about 30 active minutes has now become one that takes a few active hours.
The Clothesline
The Amount of Time
I use doing laundry as an example of the shadow side of time because it seems like all chores take much longer here: washing dishes, buying groceries, fetching water, etc. Other actions take longer as well: getting to and from school, cooking, bathing, etc. Adding these chores and other necessary actions to the involvements I mentioned above, a lot of time gets used over the course of the week.
Bathing Charlie (definitely one of his least-favorite activities)
The totality of my involvements here pales in comparison to the totality of my involvements back in the US. But there’s one key factor affecting the two – the amount of time.

I’m not alone in my struggle about time. Lots of Americans would have the same struggle because we’re met with messages that remind us that “time is money” and “carpe diem”; not to mention the boasting that occurs when people talk about how busy they are. What is an American to do if s/he finds her/himself in a situation like me? If there’s a shadow side to time, there must be a light side, and, if so, what does it look like?

The Light Side
Someone close to me in college introduced me to a Buddhist named Thich Nhat Hanh. I appreciated the accessibility of his teachings and reading his works helped me to discover the practice of mindfulness. One lesson in particular is about washing a dish. While washing dishes, does one think about washing the dish or is one’s mind off somewhere else? If one’s mind is somewhere other than the dish, how does one know one has actually washed the dish? (The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation by Thich Nhat Hanh) Without getting too heady, the moral in Thich Nhat Hanh’s lesson is that if we aren’t present in the moment then we aren’t meaningfully aware of our reality. In other words, we aren’t being mindful.
Drying Charlie (He's dry, but also in shock from the bath - poor puppy.)
How does mindfulness connect to the light side of time?

I mentioned above that I struggled with the amount of free time I had when I first arrived to my site. Now, I’m struggling with the amount of time my involvements occupy. Time for me seems to have swung like the pendulum of a clock. In order to feel more of the light side, I need to swing the pendulum into more of an equilibrium by weighing the importance of my involvements and asking how they bring meaning into my life and the lives of those around me. Some things, like chores, aren’t going to go away (despite how much I’d like them to), so I have to embrace them as best as I can as an opportunity to practice mindfulness. Further, mindfulness extends beyond chores and into the relationships I have with others and the impact we have on each other. When I leave South Africa, I want to look back on the friendships I gained and the change we were able to make together and not the laundry list of things I accomplished.

A Time to Embrace
Being more mindful will enable me to become centered, which in turn will help me from running myself ragged. I can begin to become more mindful by trying to embrace the time it takes to do things here. In doing so, I hope to feel the light side of time and the warmth of the light that comes with developing meaning from relationships with others… as well as the meaning that comes from handwashing my shirts.

________________________________
Here are some links related to Thich Nhat Hanh’s works if you’re interested in reading more:

Monday, May 25, 2015

Field Trips (Joe’s School)

Preface
I live in a place where the culture views time fluidly, most people rely on walking to get anywhere, and the majority of the population handwash their clothing, bathe in a bucket, and use pit latrines because they don’t have indoor plumbing.

Field Trips
Field trips are a really big deal at my school. They are a big deal because they take a lot of coordination to make them happen and because they are expensive. Because of the time it takes to coordinate a field and its expense, they don’t happen often. (The last time my school had a field trip was in 2013.)

During the last two Saturday’s, my school participated in what they called “friendly competitions”. A friendly competition consists of a debate, soccer games, and netball* games. The first Saturday, my school travelled to another school, and the second Saturday my school was the host. As one of the English teachers, and moreso because English is my home language*, I was nominated to coach the debate team, which meant that I was also present at both friendly competitions.
The Debate Team and Joe
Weeks leading up to the first friendly competition, the teachers talked about it at just about every morning assembly*. As I listened to them, it kind of sounded like they were making a sales pitch. I could see why on the morning of the first friendly competition; the one where we travelled. Organizing a friendly competition took a lot of coordination. First, there was identifying a school and setting a date and the events; then there was booking the transportation, which in our case meant going down to the local taxi rank and hiring khumbis* to serve as drivers; and then there was getting all of the learners to the other school, fed, and back home. 
Khumbis!
The friendly competition took the entire day. At first, I was flabbergasted by how much time it took because Saturday’s are usually my day to go on a long run, wash clothes, and buy food in town. My initial feeling was that I lost that time. But then I took a moment to reflect on everything it took for the friendly competition to actually happen. There were so many moving parts: teachers, learners, khumbis, food, and more.

Reflecting back on my time as a teacher in Baltimore and, more recently, when I was a resident director at Pacific Lutheran University, I coordinated a few field trips. At both places, I don’t remember field trips requiring so much effort. Sure, there were a lot of similar logistics. However, the coordination seemed to happen more quickly in the US. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the mechanisms to coordinate a field trip aren’t as readily available here.

Seeing how much coordination it took to make the friendly competition happen made me realize why it was scheduled for the whole day. The educators wanted to make the most of the day by having the learners participate in multiple events. Back in the US, schools will have a few field trips or multiple friendly competitions (i.e. games) per year; whereas, field trips here happen so infrequently that they are a very special occasion.
Learners Playing Netball
Afterword
My incredulity faded away when the friendly competition got underway because I could see the learners really enjoyed themselves. They had the opportunity to interact with learners from another school, show off their skills during the debate and soccer and netball matches, and dance to the house music booming from one of the tricked out khumbis. It was a day well spent.
The Soccer Team in a Huddle
-------------------
* netball - Netball is similar to basketball except there’s no backboard and only girls play.

* home language – Could also be called someone’s first language, mother tongue, or whatever language someone learned to speak first.

* morning assembly – My school meets every morning for about 15 minutes. The teachers use this time to more-or-less talk about a moral or value and how it manifests in everyday life. Examples include loving everyone like your brother or sister or respecting every elder like a parent.

* khumbi – A taxi van.

Saturday, May 16, 2015

"This is why South Africa is beautiful…"

Last week, some friends of ours invited us to join a small group that meets on Wednesday nights in town. The group typically watches a video on a topic, such as: the role of self in community, relationship with hierarchy, and connection between inner turmoil and physical health. After the video, they discuss how they do or don’t see the topic in their lives. They explore values and life philosophies. It reminded me a lot of the small group ministry at my home church, Tahoma Unitarian Universalist Congregation, which I found to be life-giving. So, I was interested.
Our first time to attend was this last Wednesday.

[[TANGENT]]
This is not the focus of my story, but it is too “typical” not to share... The event was supposed to start at 7:00. We are unable to drive and we DEFINITELY wouldn’t take a taxi after dark, so we relied on someone to come and “collect” us. Due to the dark and lack of landmarks, this generous person turned off a bit too early and ended up stuck in the deep sand. We tried to push it out; we tried to dig it out. The neighbours all came out to help. His roommate drove up with a tow rope, but only had his little Corolla so he couldn’t tow. Our host family drove over to help push. A friend came with a Rav-4, which got the ball (tires) rolling. Finally, the Subaru came and saved the day.
It took four cars and two hours, but we finally were on our way!
…and yes, this is a common occurrence.
[[/TANGENT]]

Since so many members of the small group came to help us, the discussion was delayed until next week. Instead, we simply all got together and enjoyed a delicious meal and conversation. It was quite lovely.

At one point during the dinner, I looked around the room and smiled. At the other end of the table, two men were laughing together in their native isiZulu. There were two women speaking across the room in Afrikaans. And I was sharing stories in English with 2 South African women, one whose home language was English and another who grew up speaking isiNdebele. There was so much cultural diversity within our little group, yet (aside from Joe and I) they were all South African and we were all around the same dining room table feeling the warmth of community.

I thought to myself…
“This, right here, is why South Africa is so beautiful to me.”

 _________________________________________________________________________

    • Learn more about South Africa’s 11 national languages here and here.
    • Learn more about Oliver Tambo.

    Thursday, May 14, 2015

    PC Art: An Exploration of Media

    "If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,'
    then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced."

    - Vincent Van Gogh


    Sharing Art: What it Means to Me
    Art and reading are probably the two oldest hobbies that I have. I vividly remember my teachers and my mom raving about a drawing I did of a three-story house in first grade. I loved all kinds of art--chalk drawing, finger paints, everything! I wanted to be a street artist and make beautiful pictures all day. But slowly, as I got older, I became shyer about my work. Eventually, it became a sort of hidden part of my identity.

    After being so moved by the examples of art as a medium for resistance and social change in Cape Town, I started to shift how I viewed this old hobby of mine. I saw how art can provide a space for healing and community and I hope to one day integrate my own art and justice work in a more cohesive way. To achieve this, I will need to start taking my art more seriously. Part of that process is to share it more freely with others... so, here goes!

    What It’s Made Of: Artistic Media
    One thing I found interesting about the variety of art media I have used while in South Africa. There are no two that are the same! This feels like an appropriate indicator for PC life: unpredictable, use whatever resources you have, learn something new, and make it work.

    A special shout-out to those who gifted me with art supplies to make these pieces possible: Gabi, Cody, and Emmy (drawing book); Mom and Dad Harper (oil paints); and Stephanie (coloured pencils).

    Ndlovu
    In isiZulu, ndlovu is the word for elephant. One of my dearest PCV friends is staying with a family with Ndlovu as the surname (thus it is her Zulu surname also). Elephants symbolize wisdom, loyalty, and discernment, which are pretty fitting for her personality. So, when I told her that I would draw her something, what could be more perfect?
    Ndlovu
    (Media: graphic pencils, leaves)
    A Portrait of a Movie Star
    During a depressive week, I asked my friends to send me art requests. To which Caroline responded: “Draw MEEEEEE!” I was pretty nervous because portraits are hard. But, an ask is an ask and I was going to do my best to follow through. I chose an inspiration picture of her on top of Table Mountain—a day when our friends were being so dramatic with their silly camera shots and poses that people seriously thought they were famous. So, to my dear movie star, Caroline…

    A Portrait of a Movie Star
    (Media: graphic pencil, color pencils)
    Like a Champ
    You may remember from our Valentine’s Day post, that I was especially giddy over witnessing these four tiny baby sea turtles make their first epic journey to the sea. Of course I gave them all names (Crush, Patty, Guillermo, and Champ). Champ was bringing up the end and s-t-r-u-g-g-l-i-n-g! We cheered him on and cleared out obstacles to make sure he made it to his first dive. I did this painting to remember the beauty of that day—and because I’d like to think Champ is out there, gaining his sea legs, and confidently riding the waves.

    Like a Champ
    (Medium: oil paint)
     Gita!
    The gita is a traditional Zulu dance (it was a pre-war dance that involves very high kicking). After our school’s Heritage Day celebration last September, I wanted to try and paint one of the dancers as my own memory of the power and beauty of the culture. We will call this one a “work in progress” because I will probably tinker with it for another few months before I really like it.
    Gita!
    (Medium: acrylic paint)
    Conclusion
    I am making a commitment to sharing my art more openly with the world and making space for it in my life. This will take some bravery and consistency to uphold. As I gain more confidence in my abilities, I will become more adventurous and maybe dip my toe into deeper, justice-oriented themes and subject matter. 

    Get excited! (I know I am!)

    ___________________________________
    PCV TIP: Finding Art Supplies in South Africa
    You can find most art supplies that doubles as school supplies and/or hardware in the village. The quality won't be ideal but you can make it work:
    • Coloured pencils
    • Pencils, pens, markers
    • Turpentine (for thinning your oil paints)
    • Cheap, cheap watercolors (if you are lucky)
    • House paints
    • Leaves, flowers, dirt-- easy to find and FREE! 
    You will need to go to a larger city (or bring over from the US) any higher quality items that you desire. For me, this included:
    • Oil paints
    • Acrylic paints
    • Coloured pencils (I brought a giant variety pack from the US)
    • Paint brushes
    • Graphic pencils

    Good luck with your art and most importantly, have fun!


    Sunday, May 10, 2015

    In Loco Parentis: On Teaching and Mothering in Zululand

    in loco parentis: (Latin) “in the place of the parent”

    “In loco parentis” is a term used to describe a situation where a person or organization (such as a school or university) take on some of the duties or functions typically associated with those of a parent. I have learned in my years working in the US that this is a fairly controversial philosophy in education. It fuels debates about parental involvement, the legal rights, responsibilities, and limitations on both parents and schools… especially as the legal trend is shifting away from “in loco parentis” and folks are catching up to that philosophically… whew
    Moral of the story: In a US educational context, in loco parentis is a sticky mess of uncertainty.

    This hasn’t been my experience in our village in South Africa; this culture is very clear on where they stand with this topic.

    It first struck me during a scripture reading at one of our morning assemblies. The verse was about obeying your mother and your father and the Lord will promise you a long life on earth (Ephesians 6: 2-3). After reading the scripture, the teacher went on to ask the learners who their parents are…

            “Are your mother and your father your parents?”                                           “Yes.”
            “Your grandmother and your grandfather: are they your parents?”                “Yes.”
            “Is Madam Principal your parent?”                                                                 “Yes.”
            “Is Mr. Ngubane your father?”                                                                        “Yes.”
            “Is Madam Michelle your mother?”                                                            “Yes.”
            “We are all your parents, yes?”                                                                        “Yes.”

    She went on to say that your parent is anyone who is older than you and you must listen to all of your elders to have a good life. Although I will admit that I had a knee-jerk, individualistic response in my mind, I was more struck by the gravity and meaning with which she spoke these words. This caused me to pause and reflect.

    In some communities in which I have lived, community parenting has been a professed idea (“we all look out for each other; it takes a village…”) but the Zulu culture brings the concept to an entirely new level. I am legitimately viewed as a mother to these learners. My words and actions will have the weight of a parent. This is a huge responsibility, so I must be conscious and careful. It has made me think differently about how I engage with my learners and the boundaries that I set. It also causes me to place an even higher importance on incorporating self-esteem and social justice themes into my work.

    These are my CHILDREN now. I must do my best by them.

    Grade 7 Learners at Heritage Day 2014

    Mother’s Day: An International Holiday

    Today is Mother’s Day in BOTH the US and South Africa. So, we wanted to take a moment and thank the three moms who have supported us the most in our PC journey!

    Debi / Momma (Michelle’s Mom)
    Michelle, Momma, and (BONUS!) Maw-maw
    Hey Momma,

    Happy Mother’s Day from South Africa! :) I remember that on last Mother’s Day someone posted a photo of a PCV that said, “It takes a special kind of mom to raise a Peace Corps Volunteer.” It is so true. I learned about the importance of volunteering and “leaving a place better than you found it” from you. The countless merit badges, summer camps, USO volunteer shifts, and church service activities that we completed together have anchored the value of service to the core of who I am. That sense of service paired with an early love for culture and travel (although this could be more attributed to following dad’s job—you CHOSE daddy, so you get at least partial credit ;)).

    I value your support through our service here in South Africa. I know it is scary to see your baby move halfway around the world to a brand new place. You have been very brave and encouraging, even helping me remember how long I have wanted to do this. Thank you and enjoy a Happy Mother’s Day. I hope daddy and Beau (and Anne, from afar) have planned something sweet for you today. xoxo

    Love,
    Shelly
    (aka “Bits”)

    Mrs. Michelle / Mom (Joe’s Mom)
    Joe and Mom
    Dear Mom,

    Happy Mother’s Day! While I know you wish I was there to celebrate with you in person, you have been such a great support for me since I’ve been here in South Africa. As I reflect on Mother’s Day and its significance, I am reminded of the values you instilled in me that I strive to exhibit everyday: love, kindness, and openness of the heart and mind… Since arriving in South Africa, I have met so many people here who remind me of you because of their friendliness and willingness to help a complete stranger (me!). It makes me smile when I think of the countless times we were somewhere and you struck up a conversation with the person next to you. The two of you would talk and laughed, leaving me with the impression that you’ve known each other for a long time. I only find out later that you just met that person. It’s a beautiful thing how effortlessly you connect with others. It is these qualities that I strive to embody through my interactions with people here. Thank you for being such a great mom and role model.

    Love,
    Your son,
    -Joey

    Mama Mbatha (Our PST Mom)
    Nolwandle, Mama, and Bongani
    Mama othandekayo,

    Siyakuthanda! Siyakukhumbula futhi. Siyabonga ukuthi wasamukela ekhaya lakho. Usiphe ukudla, wasifundisa. Usinike umndeni omusha wasinika nekhaya elisha. Siyabonga kakhulu.

    Siyathemba ikuthokozisile iMothers Day yakho,

    Nolwandle noBongani



    [English Translation:

    Dear Mama,

    We love you! We miss you, also. We are thankful that you welcomed us in your home. You fed us. You taught us. You gave us our new family. You gave us our new home. We thank you very much.

    We trust that you enjoyed/rejoiced in your Mothers Day.

    Nolwandle (Michelle; “Mother of the ocean”) and Bongani (Joe; “Giving thanks”)]





    Wednesday, May 6, 2015

    Cape Town Series: Untold Stories

    By far, my favorite Cape Town attractions were the varied and rich museums. Unfortunately, Joe and I were only able to visit three museums: the Iziko Slave Lodge Museum, the District Six Museum, and the Bo-Kaap Museum. I say only because I am discovering that I have an abnormal love for social and cultural exhibits. In preparing this post I finally realized what draws me in to this particular breed of nerd-dom—I seek stories. I am passionate about witnessing the stories of real people behind social movements and historical cliff notes, the ordinary lives that weave together to form extraordinary societies and bring about the very best—or sometimes worst—of our humanity.

    These are precisely the kinds of stories we found in the museums of Cape Town.

    The Iziko Slave Lodge Museum: Stories of injustice, resistance, and female activists
    The Iziko Slave Lodge Museum building once housed 9,000 slaves during the early life in the colony of Cape Town. The slaves were stolen from their homes in East Africa, Mozambique, Madagascar, India, and several countries all throughout Asia—even as far away as Japan. The living conditions were atrocious: there were almost no exterior windows for ventilation or light, the basement would often flood, the rooms were overcrowded, and the central feature was a courtyard where the public floggings would take place. Despite massive renovations and the passage of time, I could still feel the somber weight of death and sorrow held within its walls.

    The first floor of the museum is very well curated and includes videos, art displays, a reading of primary texts, photos, diagrams, and stories of life within the slave lodge. There were many displays that I found moving. One that was particularly striking was a backlit column that was etched from floor to ceiling with some of the known names of those who were enslaved. Knowing that each name represented a person with a life, family, talents… and that this column was just a sample of those whose stories have been tragically lost and remain untold.

    Human trafficking and slavery still exist in our world. The Slave Lodge is not a relic. It is a reminder that there are untold numbers of "slave lodges" in our world today. Our work is not finished.
    On the second floor, they switch gears and the displays have less…focus, shall we say? It included: collections of silver and trinkets from wealthy white cape families, weaponry from tribes and colonists, history of women’s textiles, mail service in port, a display devoted to the music of the struggle for freedom, and three rooms devoted to female freedom fighters. I would like to spend some time with these last two.

    In the exhibit titled "Singing Freedom: Music and the struggle against apartheid," it was powerful to see how protesters rose against each blow from the apartheid government with new songs and new resolve. I loved to hear the many different South African languages expressing these words of resistance and power. The display showed how the music evolved over time and ended with a case study, if you will, to ask the reader to reflect on the place of these songs in our current social context and history. This rose many questions within me that I enjoyed tumbling through.
    Nobel Square, Cape Town.
    Statues honouring Chief Albert Lithuli, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, FW de Klerk, and Nelson Mandela.
    The final display was titled “There’s something I must tellyou” and shared, through three different art forms, the stories, lives, and sacrifices of women in the anti-apartheid movement. Often the stories of the freedom fighters are male-centric; we hear about Nelson Mandela, Steve Biko, Oliver Thambo, Chief Lithuli… never Lillian Ngoyi, Helen Johnson, Ellen Khuzwayo (Exhibit A: the statues pictured above!). My eyes diligently read every word and tried to etch every face into my memory. The most powerful element for me was a documentary in which a few of these women shared their stories, lessons, and passions in interviews with their daughters. The passing of this wisdom from one generation of women to the next moved me beyond words. I've embedded just one of the videos for your viewing pleasure. Others are included at the webpage linked to the title of the display (above).



    The Bo-Kaap Museum: Stories of community, contribution, and belonging
    The Bo-Kaap museum highlights the social, political, and cultural significance of the “Cape Malay” community within Cape Town's history, present, and future. (NOTE: “Cape Malay is the commonly used collective term for Cape citizens who trace their ancestry to Southeast Asia or East Africa. The term does not acknowledge the sheer diversity of the community it represents. The term is also often interchanged with “Cape Muslim” as Islam is a very popular religion within the community.)

    Visiting this museum was an intentional choice for us. As I stated in the previous paragraph, much of the social and political history of Cape Town that is told today focuses on the exploits and interaction between white men and black men. There are a few footnotes of other cultures and racial groups, but the story is largely neglected and untold. I wanted to gain even a sliver of knowledge of the gaps in this narrative.

    The museum is small, but welcoming. The furniture is warm and the stories are rich. My favorite display was a display of interviews with residents and former residents of the Bo-Kaap, titled “Bo-Kaap in Conversation." Two of the residents were brothers who both went on to become educators and principals. They shared how their upbringing inspired their path and work towards justice within the school system. I loved hearing their stories and seeing their home through their eyes.

    My second favourite display was on the wall of an open community space. The wall showed highlights from community mapping activities with the resident. They highlighted the significant meeting spots and cultural centers. It also showed the sheer number and diversity of mosques within the small sector of the city.

    We are still largely ignorant (because an exhibit can barely scratch the surface and are no replacement for deep, consistent interaction), but I appreciate the museum for bringing forth voices I had never heard and stories I had never known.

    The District Six Museum: The stories of home, expulsion, and renewal
    Source: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1097/5143441094_138aea8302.jpg
    In the late decades of the 19th century, District Six was one of the most racially diverse communities in Cape Town. In 1966, under the Group Areas Act of 1950, the district was deemed a white residential area. The government began the forced removal of 60,000 established residents, which continued for nearly two decades. Families were expected to move to crowded townships on the other side of town or other racially segregated sectors of the city. In a neighbourhood where car ownership was a rarity, this meant that many never saw their old friends again, could no longer get to their jobs, and had to close their businesses. Many of the city blocks that were razed by the government are still vacant lots, shadows of the lives that used to thrive in the area.

    The museum is largely owned, developed, and curated by former District Six residents. They have contributed their photos, letters, and day-to-day anecdotes of their lives before the forced removal. You can read about the social clubs, the shops and factories, the old hang-outs, even the former street gangs of the neighbourhood. They have captured the lives as they were—and the grief and pain when that life was lost.

    The most powerful aspect of the museum is the space it has provided for former residents to mourn, advocate, engage together, and heal. It has started to host varying programs to reconnect residents and capture their stories in powerful ways. Some examples include:
    • Embroidery: During a community meeting, the former residents were asked to share their former address and a few thoughts. These were recorded and embroidered into long sheets that line the side of the lobby.
    • Cooking: Former residents are invited to share their favourite family recipes (and their accompanying stories) as a group cooking class. Each participant’s recipe and story was subsequently stitched into fabric and displayed. You can walk the hallway and witness the diversity of meals and cultures from the community.
    • Poetry Mosaic: Former residents wrote poetry about their journey of displacement and finding home onto ceramic tiles. These tiles were then cemented into the concrete of the new addition of the museum.
    • Youth Programs: The museum hosts programs for youth, particularly exploring the themes of cultural identity, peace and activism through art, and recording oral history.
    The museum has also been active in the efforts to provide financial restitution for the families.

    Final Reflection
    For a few years now I have been toying with the idea of doing an art series combining some form of portraiture with an artistic expression/story-telling of our intersectional identities (examples: a self-portrait collage which highlights my connections to white privilege, gender oppression, and queer identity through pictures and textures; or a similar series where each piece is devoted to one identity; or a written reflection overlaid over a portrait… but I’d need more photoshop skills to pull that off). These exhibits really renewed that passion for a long-term project that would combine art, capturing stories, and social justice. I’ve been googling graduate programs in art therapy, peacebuilding, sociology, and social justice. I would need to be so much more qualified and enhance my technical skills, but… the idea of working in a community art space with structured artistic-reflective-justice-themed activities in an urban (or semi-urban) environment makes my heart and mind race with ideas and hope.

    So, just to crowd-source a bit: Leave a comment if you know of a community center or graduate program doing this awesome work! I’d love to check it out!