I Remember
“Do you know how there are moments when the world moves so slowly you can feel your bones shifting, your mind tumbling? When you think that no matter what happens to you for the rest of your life, you will remember every last detail of that one minute forever?” Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes
I had mentioned that it has been a tough transition for me to work with university participants. The frustration stems from I didn’t have a lot of say in how things were going to be marketed and I had to pay these individuals a stipend for travel to take the workshop. I was not happy about this but the university enforced it. And throughout this 8-month partnership, the university keeps on demanding more money from me. Money that I do not have.
Tuesday was super tough day. There was little discussion and it appeared to me that they were there for the stipend. I never paid the Kakuma participants. They tended to be more enthusiastic and willing to engage. When I was talking with a JRS staff member about Tuesday, he reminded that the Kakuma participants are most likely more willing to learn and eager to participate because they have a thirst for knowledge. As he said this, I thought to myself, self perhaps my own knowledge of refugee higher education is overfilling and I am not thirsty anymore, as well? He went on and said, “Staci, they need to remember. You need to remind them.”
On Wednesday, when I entered the university classroom, a South Sudanese participant was already there. The day before he sat right next to me and said nothing. Today, we engaged in a friendly debate about how much he loves Trump. As more students piled in the classroom, the intensity of the discussion mounted. The workshop had a mixture of Somali, South Sudanese, and Rwandan participants. Another South Sudanese asked me why I hated Trump so much. I said that anyone who thinks it is okay to sexual assault a person is an asshole. Furthermore, the refugee policy, rather the travel ban is appalling and does not follow American values of tolerance for all religions, races, ethnicity, and cultures. As an American, I would welcome all of you, in particularly the Muslim majority states. We need more people like you in our country. As I realized I was raising my voice towards the participant, I collected myself, apologized, and said let’s move on.
So, after that conversation, the tone changed in the room. The participants engaged much more and started to show why they were going to university. They debated everything to the international intervention of South Sudan to the elections of the new president in Somalia to Mr Trump’s executive orders. They raised their voices and at times, it was a tense debate between each other. Then a brave participant spoke about her own journey of getting in this particular university. After she was finished reading her story, another participant said, “We must remember. Remember we started sitting on stones. Then we moved to crowded classrooms. We wanted to learn. Most of us are sponsored by the UN. We must remember. Now, we are here at Kenyatta sitting in these chairs.” This shifted the tone, yet again.
The conversation was richer for me at the university because these students were fluent in English. This helped me however I tried to argue that that debate would have been far richer if they were debating in the language they felt more comfortable. I asked them to do it this way because honestly is not about me understanding what is going on, it is about the space they create and dialogue that is created in there. Despite this urgent ask, the participants insisted on using English. In that moment of the discussion, I pushed the envelope more and asked more out of them. As more students became more vocal in the debate, the conversations appeared to be more authentic and raw.
We finished with a gratitude circle. Despite the energy and enthusiasm, the last question was about the stipend. As of right now, I already have three individuals who have volunteered to work with me. One happens to be the South Sudanese who loves Trump. He has lived in Kakuma which is a nice connection. The other two are Somali and have lived in Dadaab. We will be working in JRS parishes in majority refugee neighborhoods.
Tonight, I am writing from Uganda where I am at a conference for teachers. It is another difficult transition as I am attempting to work with professors and teachers from the USA to deliver a seemingly disorganized conference.
When I arrived in Uganda, I was picked up from the airport and driven to an orphanage. I avoid orphanages at all costs. I was supposed to avoid this one because the group was going to visit on Sunday after I left Uganda. But then I found out last minute, the plans changed. I met the leader of the orphanage and as the day continued I had an uneasy feeling about him. He also was heading up the very disorganized and constantly changing conference.
I felt uneasy with him because he brought the children from the orphanage into the conference and had them dance for donations. He said he had recorded the children’s voices and brings them to events to dance and sing. He announced this is a way that he sustains his ministry. He is very direct with Americans and asks for US dollars. I am not exactly sure if the funding is going to the children and their upkeep. I don’t get a sense that it is a point of exploitation but I have this gut feeling something is wrong. After the orphanage visit and a 2-hour ride dust-filled bumpy road to the hotel, I threw up in my room.
I have another day at the conference. Then, I will hang out with an American who happens to be the auntie of a politician in Uganda. This friendship is one of those random chance meetings that you get when you travel. You meet remarkable people everywhere.
I am grateful for the opportunity to share what little skills I have and learn with Ugandan teachers. Despite having a disconcerted feeling visiting the orphanage, I am grateful to be reminded I am one of them. I remember. It reinforces the work that I feel called to do. I just wish I could do things without messing up all the time
