Please excuse the delay. I've been back for just about two weeks, but you know how it goes-from the runway straight to the books.
Anywho, it would be a total injustice not to tell you all about the AMAZING opportunity and experiences I had in Cape Town, so I've compiled all my journal entries from the trip into the post below. What you'll read is part of the journal I had to submit as part of the International Service Learning Course I was enrolled in. As an assignment, it has a mix of some personal and some more academic perspectives on the trip.
What I will say before I give you that version is that since returning, I find myself still marveling at the idea that I had this opportunity. While it was a jam packed 11 days, I feel like I was able to feel a certain kind of freedom that I haven't experienced before. I made friends with some really amazing people from my school, and I built memories for a lifetime--like, cracking up in the cab ride from hell with my new besties, taking in the most beautiful views on top of Table Mountain, getting to sit in on an actual session at Parliament, and, of course, shaking hands with Archbishop Desmond Tutu. It was definitely all PRICELESS.
I hope the words I was able to string together below do some semblance of justice to the experience. I'll upload the rest hopefully before the end of the weekend.
Enjoy!
March 11, 2012
It’s an interesting feeling to journey somewhere and have only a limited idea of what really exists at the destination. For the past few weeks, most of my anxiety related to this journey has been about flying. I’m not extremely fond of planes, so to address my concerns I had a meeting with God this morning in my prayer journal. In our conversation, I surrendered worry and fear and welcomed faith in a God who I could trust with my vulnerabilities. At the closing of my conversation with the Creator, I felt assured that safe travel would be granted; I was then able to make space for the journey.
When I finally arrived at the airport this morning and passed through the security checkpoints, I realized that it was actually happening! All that we’d talked about in our group sessions and discussion boards was slowly beginning to materialize. I was excited.
I write to you now from the first of our series of layovers, having hit Africa in some form for the very first time. I can’t see much of it through the plane windows because it is dark outside in Dakar, but the faces of the cleaning crew who’ve just boarded look very much like what I anticipated; rich, beautiful brown skin and faces resembling native born Africans whom I’ve met in the states over the course of my lifetime. Others on the plane right now are covering their noses and discussing the distinct smell that has spread throughout the cabin. What smells unpleasant to others on board, however, smells like Africa to me...and reminds me of my father. During the latter part of his life he started a business selling crafts, fabrics, and hand carved furniture from Africa; the initial scent of Dakar bought me back to the smells lingering in the kente cloth that was among my dad’s merchandise. In some way, I feel like I’ve already arrived. Although this isn’t Cape Town, it is my first official touch down on home soil.
* * * *
Unfortunately, the smell of the motherland is competing with the very strong, asphyxiating smell of spray that they’ve doused the plane in. As I try to breathe and write, I’m getting ready for the second leg of this excursion. In anticipation of landing in Cape Town, I’m recalling what I’ve recently seen of the city on television; the Real Housewives of Atlanta showed the women arriving in a big city that doesn’t look too different from back home. I never really bought the images of Africa being a big barren land full of starving and poor peoples; I feel like I’ve always known the worth, value, and richness of the place that I call my real home.
A part of me is beginning to wonder about how I will be welcomed. I feel personally connected to Africa, and that my ancestry suggests that this is a place to which I belong, even though I was born on distant shores; I wonder if the people here will feel like I am them as much as I want to be recognized as having common blood, or will they experience me as “foreign” as others have in places I’ve visited before. A part of me is secretly hoping for the grand feeling of being welcomed home to family that I haven’t seen in a long time.
While I’m not certain what specifically lies ahead, I am convinced that on the other side of this experience, I will be transformed. While I’ve spoken with students who’ve gone before, I feel like there’s no amount of information or preparation that can truly help me figure out what to expect. We’ve been given the bare basics as far as what will happen, but I think I committed to myself to just trust the process. Above all things, I simply believe that God would not have brought me to this opportunity without having a grander purpose. So just as I’ve done with my fears about flying, I simply surrender to what God has in store.
But for now, I’m officially tired and we’re about to take off, again. Next stop, Johannesburg.
Arrived
This morning was a good way to get grounded in the idea that we are actually here. After walking to the Seven-Eleven in the middle of the night for snacks and spending our first night at the language school, we woke up to get an early start at the bank exchanging our dollars for rand; it really began to sink in that we are finally here. I actually felt myself beginning to mentally transition to our new reality.
As we boarded the vans and began our commute to the University of the Western Cape, the images of both affluent and under resourced communities reminded me of my 6-month experience living in Jamaica, West Indies, and of perusing the streets of the District and Harlem. The juxtaposition of wealth against stark images of poverty didn’t stand out as anything drastically different; it actually provided some early evidence of common international experiences of marginalization and disparity.
So far, I’m not really too taken aback or surprised. I feel that much of what I’ve seen and, in some ways, the people we’ve encountered thus far are our reflection. Particularly, today at UWC as we had the privilege to share and learn from the students and staff, I recognized a similar spirit of commitment to social change. The classroom lecture and discussion made me think a lot about our Social Work Education Pro-Seminar course. Similar themes involved the struggles to gain respect for the profession and challenges with having enough trained social workers to meet the needs. As the students shared about their aspirations and perspectives on community level issues, we learned about the universal nature of some social challenges including substance abuse and under-resourced communities, and we also learned about diverse ways of assessing and addressing these complex social problems. Particularly, the student who shared about her desire to focus on enhancing literacy in her community as a means of addressing issues of HIV/AIDS reminded me that sometimes the work requires giving attention to some very basic elements of an issue before trying to attack the larger problem.
Beyond the formal discussions, however, a beautiful part of the experience today was the exchange between the UWC students and us. We were welcomed with the singing of their national anthem and in return we shared our own Lift Every Voice and Sing. There was this sense of mutual respect and welcoming, a feeling much like I’d hoped to encounter. What was particularly cool for me was the way in which there was an underlying sense of both familiarity and curiosity between us; both groups took out cameras and other electronic devices to record as in hope of capturing the exchange. In the beginning I did wonder if the use of technology might have felt like a sense of disrespect or interference in the intimacy of the moment, but in the end there appeared to be a mutually implicit understanding that technology simply afforded us all an opportunity to hold on to some aspects of the moment.
As the students took us on a tour around the campus, they interacted with us as if we were long time friends, but we also exchanged questions about each others’ experiences that helped us all get a bit better of an understanding of what life is like for the other. There were similarities that bonded us, including our use of facebook and the idea that many of us had journeyed from far to attend school and to train to become contributions to our communities and to the profession. When I listened to their stories about their academic experiences and commitment to learning, I must say that I grew self-conscious. I wondered about my own level of academic rigor and dedication, and considered the ways that I take for granted or don’t always take full advantage of the opportunities that I have in terms of education; instead of beating myself up, however, I simply took in the moment as an opportunity to be inspired to work harder.
At the conclusion of our tour, we exchanged contact information and there was this genuine sense of mutual interest in staying in touch. I plan to follow through with this commitment, not only for the friendships, but in the small amount of time that we spent together, I really felt that there was a great opportunity for promising scholars to engage in conversations about our professional experiences and aspirations that could influence powerful learning exchanges and the development of innovative strategies and solutions to address some of the concerns faced by our communities. I look forward to keeping in touch.
* * * *
Later in the evening, some of us ventured off into the town and spent time tarrying around Long Street. This popular strip of stores and restaurants reminded me a lot of what New Orleans looks like. There were lots of eateries with balconies hanging over the city streets and somewhat of a mood lighting set off by lamps lining the block. As we went from store to store checking out souvenirs and trying to decide on a place to eat, the feeling of being a tourist began to sink in. The bartering that many warned us of began as we attempted to ward off the perception of being wealthy foreigners by negotiating our way to prices that appeared more friendly to our student budgets. My identity as American slowly but surely stood out to me. People stared at our table in the restaurant and listened in to our discussions, which I must say at times took to a volume that definitely fit the description of “loud Americans”. Others introduced themselves to us and inquired out right about our origins and the reason for our stay.
At the restaurants, we searched the menus and sought suggestions from others for our meals, some of us hoping to have our first tastes of traditional cuisines. As a vegetarian, the options were not as extensive as they were for others; however, without reservations to some of the more popular places to eat, our first night ended up being a date with food that was more familiar than not. Most people ordered burgers and fries or wings; I was a little disappointed, but not really sure what grand experience I was hoping to have by way of my first real meal out on the town. Ultimately, over fish cakes and salad, I settled for simply marveling at the drastically smaller cans that the ginger ale came in, and the fact that they were red Scweppes cans and not green.
So far, it’s been a pretty basic introduction. Having returned to our room and getting ready for our early start, I remain eager for what else was in store.
Social Welfare Issues in South Africa
This morning we went into town and took care of errands and then gathered in groups for breakfast. After taking suggestions for places to eat, my roommates and I settled on an eatery that allured passersby with its bright orange awning and the titillating aroma of fresh baked breads and pastries. I enjoyed a savory croissant with butter and jam that made me feel like I could taste the love baked in every morsel. I initially savored the moment and grew excited about the idea of my breakfast find for the duration of the journey, but shortly after I devoured my food, my taste buds were slightly soured by my observations of the interactions between the employer and staff at the establishment.
There was a solid build White woman who took our orders and welcomed us in one tone and then under her breath barked orders at her staff who happened to look more like us in complexion. My thoughts started churning and I grew immediately sensitive to what I presumed to be an indication of an issue of status, race, and class. I felt myself beginning to feel less at ease and more disgruntled; I think the fact that the women to whom the White woman talked sternly appeared to be near my mom’s age made the situation that much more uncomfortable. I felt that her tone was utterly disrespectful and in my mind I grew conflicted and angered. I tried to calm myself by cautioning not to be presumptuous about the dynamics I observed. I tried hard to consider the idea that this encounter was more so an exchange between employer and employee where the former’s strict and curt demeanor may have been more about ensuring quality service to customers, but I struggled to convince myself that somehow, the White woman didn’t feel entitled to speak in whatever manner she pleased because she carried the skin color of power and privilege.
This experience was in the back of my mind as we embarked on our excursions. In our different introductions to the staff and populations served at the different agencies, I definitely began to pay attention to how issues of race and class shaped the social welfare issues, services, and human relations in the country. From our visit to Pollsmore prison to observations of exchanges and dynamics at the vineyard where we had lunch, there definitely seemed to be noticeable differences in terms of the status and experiences of individuals from different racial categories. In some sense it appeared that, like the United States, historical experiences of segregation, oppression, and disadvantage based on racial/ethnic category continued to impact social dynamics; for example the differences between those who held positions of authority at the agencies and establishments we visited and those who held lower level positions or were on the receiving end of the services appeared pretty consistent from place to place.
* * * *
Our introduction to social welfare issues and services definitely began with our orientation to UWC. Similar to the history of the development of social work at institutions like Howard, UWC has a legacy of being an institution that helped members of marginalized groups access education, training, and opportunity. The founding history of the University at large had similar beginnings that reflect some of the intentions outlined in the tenets of the Black perspective; a focus on social justice, the strengths of people of color, and a celebration of diversity are reflected in the mission statements of both institutions. The students we met were among youth who the institution recognizes may not have otherwise had opportunities to attend school given their economic and social hardships. As with American HBCUs, the social work department appeared to focus on helping to develop trained professionals who could work with the often disregarded and marginalized communities to which many of us belong.
As discussed before, there were definitely similar themes in terms of high priority social welfare issues including poverty alleviation, unemployment, and substance abuse. Because of my special interest area, of particular interest to me was the recurring discussion of unemployment as a critical issue affecting South African youth. Considering the young boys we encountered at Pollsmore, I thought about the connection that’s often made between lack of constructive opportunities to access success and youth delinquency, and I even engaged in discussions with some of the Howard staff and my peers about the possibility of developing innovative strategies to address this very issue.
Pollsmore and the Women’s Refugee shelter were two stops so far that really impacted me, not only for the shock value of being in a prison for the very first time or the novel experience of the refugee shelter, but the individuals we encountered at these locations really had a grand impression on me. At the prison, Mr. M (our guide whose name escapes me) was a breath of fresh air amidst the staunch rigidity of the prison facility. From his initial presentation, I grew attracted to his sense of compassion and commitment to recognizing the humanity in everyone, regardless of their alleged criminal behaviors. I watched closely at the relationships he appeared to have with the young boys at the facility; while there originally appeared to be this common hardness in the faces of all the youth, there was an innocence that appeared to surface among the boys at the different units when Mr. M entered the rooms and interacted with them. I saw in the boys a sense of childlike innocence, peace, and fulfillment inspired by the quality of nurturing, love, and respect that Mr. M shared with them in our presence. It reminded me of my clinical experiences interacting with youth that many people had disregarded; in the gang members and youth who had frequent behavioral challenges in schools and other institutions, I was often able to access the spirit of yearning for love, attention, respect, and connectedness that resembled what I witnessed with Mr. M. and the boys during this visit. From the other staff we spoke with, I could appreciate their efforts to use alternative approaches to dealing with behavioral infractions at the facility and the ways in which they spoke transparently about efforts to balance the challenges, professional responsibilities, and goals at the facility. I’m interested in looking further into the idea of restorative justice that was introduced to us during our orientation.
When we moved onward to the shelter, while I appreciated the importance of the work that was being done here in order to provide for the needs of the women and children, it was also the spirit of one of the staff at this agency that really inspired me. After an introduction by what appeared to be one of the senior staff, a younger staff member began to speak and share of her experiences at the agency. The old adage that warns not to judge a book by its cover really rang true for me in this instance; shortly into our discussion, a young, unassuming girl began to speak. Gugu brilliantly articulated her perspectives on social welfare issues in South Africa, particularly affecting the refugee women that she worked with. A few things stood out for me. I identified with Gugu because of her apparent youthfulness; as a professional sometimes I get concerned about how my physical appearance may impact how people perceive me or their willingness to trust in my potential for leadership. Listening to Gugu, I must say that I felt comforted by her presence, and the way she commanded respect and maintained a disposition of authority and competence in her work. I was encouraged by her on this level, but also thought about the personal struggle she shared with us regarding choosing to work with refugees while knowing that people from her own community are also in need of support. From this exchange, it was good to be able to hear from a social worker not only discussions about the work and the challenges associated with providing support and services to a population in need, but to also feel comfortable to talk about some of the personal conflicts and struggles involved in balancing our roles, our personal standards and expectations, and our lives as active members of this profession. I appreciated the exchange.
* * * *
Overall, I appreciated the community oriented feel of a lot of the programs and models of social work. Given more time, I would have liked opportunities to engage further in dialogue with staff at these agencies to learn about how they strategize to approach enduring and novel social welfare issues and to learn more about their community oriented approaches; while I’m sure cultural differences exist, I think our social workers, communities and community organizers could benefit from some of the work that is happening here. As articulated in our readings and early group discussions, I was really beginning to see how having an international perspective can help strengthen our understanding of social issues, and put us in a stronger position to work to address them. I definitely feel that who I am as a professional and how I understand and experience my role and the issues that I hope to address is growing as a result of this learning opportunity.
**To Be Continued**
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