Punctuated by the occasional empty vodka bottle and stray beer can, the river Spree is decidedly not what one would call clean. It snakes lazily through the city along aged canals, under stone bridges and before grand museums, oozing a scent vaguely of sewage which goes quite well with its brown and frothy appearance. And yet, despite its obvious pollution, the river is beautiful.
The sky is clear and piercing blue and the river exudes an air of pleasant calm as it winds through the Old City. A man plays accordion as tourists wander by in some state of bliss only evoked by gentle currents and old European architecture. It’s lovely. Pausing to lift my hair from a sweaty neck, I lean against the carved stone guard rail and gaze down at the water. So nice, so pleasant. At first glance I think it a jellyfish, the undefined shape floating just below the water’s surface. But this is Berlin and fresh water and obviously the Spree is devoid of the jellyfish we so regularly encounter in the murky waters of home. It must be a plastic bag. And yet so callous a title for this mysterious apparition doesn’t seem right. It’s more gossamer, more transparent, like some discarded wedding veil. Something once loved now lost, “left to the current.” And maybe somewhere in my psyche the thought is forced, some understanding in the back of one’s head we’ve been ordered never to forget, but in the image of this particular piece of water borne detritus, my mind travels fluidly back in time. Back to this street when soldiers goose stepped and storefronts bore signs defining who could be a customer. Back to when millions were ordered to pack (a single suitcase, a yellow star) and were marshalled away. Leather-soled shoes on cobblestone streets. Leather-soled shoes on a street once their own, rendered no longer. One suitcase, soon to be stolen, valuables scattered, things once loved now lost. And here I stand, rubber-soled shoes on cobblestone streets, so welcomed. Don’t even have to belong to belong. It’s lovely here. It’s lovely and easy to almost forget what I was ordered never to forget. Easy to forget or ignore or at least push far back the names on brass blocks, the unerasable fact that on these streets people were marched to their murder. Millions killed. And it’s so lovely here. Blue sky and gentle currents. Ornate carvings and accordion notes. I return my gaze to the ghost in the Spree. Just a plastic bag probably. Some pollution in a lovely river. A shame.
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While watching “The Lives of Others,” I found myself captivated by the transformations of the characters and the way in which designated titles are challenged through the sharing of stories.
As the film progresses, two main themes become apparent. The first theme, as indicated by Wiesler’s transformed attitude towards Dreyman over the course of the film, is that we gain empathy for strangers when we learn their stories. Wiesler initially demonstrates a cavalier if not hostile attitude towards Dreyman, casually bugging the playwright’s apartment and listening in on his daily interactions. As he learns more about Dreyman’s life, his loves and losses, Wiesler begins to undergo a metamorphosis of sorts, as made apparent when he is seen crying whilst Dreyman plays the piano (in memory of a close friend who had committed suicide on account of being blacklisted). The second theme evident in this film is the concept that individuals can move beyond their title as “the enemy.” Wiesler is introduced as a cruel and stern member of the East German Stasi. When he is shown harshly interrogating a prisoner in the film’s opening sequence, Wiesler appears as a classic soulless villain. Over the course of the film, however, it is revealed that Wiesler is a human, just like those he investigates. The title, “a bad man,” as a young boy refers to Wiesler, obviously drags on him. One could villainize Wiesler, but instead the film chooses to focus on his humanity, emphasizing especially his ability to change, to be overwhelmed by love, and ultimately to take incredible risk to save strangers. As an individual unfamiliar with “spy-systems,” I find myself uncertain whether the themes expressed in the film, especially the former, relate to the reality of surveillance. Are individuals performing surveillance capable of being brought to deeper understanding –as Wiesler was— through exposure to the lives they survey, or have they been so trained that they are incapable of seeing those they survey as anything beyond a one-dimensional enemy? I tend to believe that through the sharing of life stories, we are capable of understanding the humanity of those we may otherwise designate as “enemies,” just as Wiesler and Dreyman were able to do. CERP 2017
Community Engaged Research Proposals (CERP) Completed Proposal Posted to blog by June 5 “University of Washington Honors in Berlin: Negotiating Identities and Mediating Community, Berlin, Germany” Spring preparatory seminar Honors 384C ABSTRACT The primary goal of this project is to better understand and identify how art is used to foster belonging. This study mostly explores “belonging” in terms of the ability of migrants and refugees to feel a kinship with and sense of membership in the society which they now inhabit. This first requires a definition of art, so as to identify artistic efforts through the rest of the project. We will be generally using the definition of “the arts” as put forth by Merriam-Webster Dictionary: “Painting, sculpture, music, theater, literature, etc., considered as a group of activities done by people with skill and imagination.” It is important to, at least to some extent, restrict what is to be for this study defined as art. Certain fields which could be by some considered arts on account of their incorporation of creativity and imagination, such as some sciences and the inventing of utilitarian products, are to be omitted for the sake of simplicity and because there is often contestation regarding whether or not these fields are in fact, part of “the arts.” Thus this project will look at artists in migrant communities (especially in Berlin, Germany), and explore how art has allowed them to transcend positions (from outsider to citizen) in their adopted societies. While currently for this project, the sense of belonging is based upon how the individual involved in the artistic activities perceives it to be, this may be stretched to how other individuals already “part” of the society see the artists. For example, if a migrant artist feels a greater sense of belonging in their new society as a result of their art, does this correspond to where other members of society see said artist? BACKGROUND It was while reading Eva Youkhana’s piece on creative activism through street art that I began to understand the connections between art and space. Youkhana wrote of how young men from lower classes first began embracing graffiti to “gain public esteem.” “By appropriating a moving object,” wrote Youkhana of the tendency to graffiti trains, “belonging of the writer is produced, documented, and propagated.” By casting one’s art upon a space, one becomes intrinsically connected to said space: they belong in that space. Simply put, in influencing a space (especially unleashing one’s creativity through art), an individual becomes entwined with said space and thus belongs there. This phenomenon extends beyond visual street art to other creative formats. In exploring the impact of Turkish-German literature on Berlin, Yasemin Yildiz notes that “Turkish-German literature of Berlin demonstrates a marked entanglement with local sites, histories, and cultural memories that signal complex belonging.” Indeed any form of artistic creation relating to a specific space alters that space and thus the artist becomes a part of that space’s history and character. This topic of fostering belonging through creative art attracts me especially in that in many ways, though I hadn’t understood so at the time, my life mirrors this phenomenon. As a child largely inhibited from becoming immersed in my elementary school community by shyness and OCD, I often felt an outsider. I found solace in reading and then writing, discovering and creating worlds in which I could belong. Through writing I was able to develop my voice and foster a better understanding of who I wanted to be and how to become that person beyond the page. While I am young and have yet to do much public writing (and thus cannot speak from experience to the way that my own creativity correlates to the space I occupy), I believe truly that through creative release, we are rendered stronger and more confident. Through creative release, we discover our place in the world. QUESTION How do individuals employ art to enforce their sense of belonging in a society? CULTURAL SENSITIVITY Firstly, as an American studying in Berlin, I will be exploring the concept of belonging in a place where I myself do not belong. Furthermore, since my question is predominantly dealing with migrants, I must be aware that my experience is not the migrant experience; I, as a middle class white American (to count off a couple privileges), never had a need to work to belong in my city since I fit into the majority population. I also must be careful in identifying “migrant art.” As Sasa Stanisic makes clear in “Three Myths of Immigrant Writing: A View from Germany,” categorizing works of literature (or any form of art for this matter) based simply upon the identity of the creator as a migrant, not only diminishes the art, but serves to turn an incredibly diverse population into a single homogenous entity. By conglomerating people in such a way, we fail to understand the nuance of heritage and the varying opportunities and experiences faced by different migrants. As a Westerner, I can’t deny that I observe and define both art and creativity in a highly Westernized fashion. As Natascha Radcliffe-Thomas explores in “Fashioning Cross-Cultural Creativity: Investigating the Situated Pedagogy of Creativity,” it is undeniable that different cultures define and foster creativity and art in different ways and that “Traditional cross-cultural creativity research has presented a dichotomous view of Western and Confucian-Heritage Culture propensity to creativity as when creativity is defined as synonymous with individuality, rule-breaking and originality, cross-cultural comparisons favor Western individualist societies over CHC collective societies.” This observation that Western definitions of creativity privilege Western-style art is something that I strive to be aware of in my research. I hope to allow the individuals I encounter put forth their own definitions of creativity so I can try my best to not analyze art based on my own pre-conceived notions. I hope to approach this study as an outside learner and observer and will note factors inhibiting this ability as they come up. METHODS Being that the research question involved in this project is reliant on individual opinion, much of the data collected will be qualitative. I hope to conduct interviews with both artists of migrant background as well as individuals leading art projects involving migrants. Seeing that I will likely be doing my community engagement activity at Muanana Refugee Sewing Project, I will be able to observe and engage with those working at the project, and learn firsthand how artistic work (in this case involving fabric) impacts the lives of the involved refugee women. Of course I will also have to collect information through other studies and articles, seeing that I will only have minimal time to engage with individuals involved in the migrant-art scene. It is undeniable that my status as a community outsider (as well as general inability to speak German), will make it difficult for me to interact with individuals; I have a very short period in which to build a rapport crucial in collecting the stories and claims I need. I will thus be very reliant on community partners and Berlin contacts, especially as I work to get a better sense of what I want to learn and my role in this learning. DAILY SCHEDULE in Berlin. This will be tentative and may be a combination of community partner and individual schedules. This schedule will very likely be adjusted, but it’s good to start planning a tentative plan of action. How will you explore this question while you are in Berlin? What kind of background research schedule will you develop before you leave for Berlin? Where will you go? Who will you meet? (Seattle, Berlin) People (names, titles, etc.) Places (location and transportation) Equipment (cameras, video recorders, paints, logbook, etc.) Information you’ll gather (photos, notes from interviews, observations noted in logbook, etc.) REFERENCES Radcliffe-Thomas, Natascha. "Fashioning Cross-Cultural Creativity: Investigating the Situated Pedagogy of Creativity." Psychology of Aesthetics, Creativity & the Arts 9.2 (2015): 152-60. Web. Stanisic, Sasa. "Three Myths of Immigrant Writing: A View from Germany." Words Without Borders Nov. 2008: n. pag. Print. Yildiz, Yasemin. "Berlin as a Migratory Setting." The Cambridge Companion to the Literature of Berlin. N.p.: Cambridge UP, n.d. 206-24. Print. Youkhana, Eva. Creative Activism and Art Against Urban Renaissance and Social Exclusion-- Space Sensitive Approaches to the Study off Collective Action and Belonging. Thesis. Interdisciplinary Latin America Center, University of Bonn, 2014. N.p.: Sociology Compass, n.d. Print. Stevenson, Patrick. Language and Migration in a Multilingual Metropolis: Berlin Lives. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. Print The article “Creative Activism and Art Against Urban Renaissance and Social Exclusion,” by Eva Youkhana, first introduced to me the concept of claiming space through public art. Youkhana explains that the rise of graffiti during the 1970s among young African American men could be seen as an effort by a marginalized population to not only claim, but feel a sense of belonging in a space because they played a role in creating the character of said place.
As someone who wants to be a writer, I have always been fascinated by the way literature functions as a form of social change. I looked to “Berlin as a Migratory Setting” by Yasemin Yildiz to further understand how literature, like street art, can allow an individual to establish a sense of belonging in a specific place. Berlin’s literary scene is steeped in the work of migrants. This pervasiveness of migrant authors in Berlin has, by connecting voice to space, established Berlin as an international city. I hope to focus my studies on how individuals claim a role in a space through art, and particularly through writing. This is only the beginning of my exploration, but I look forward to learning more. A Key Point Taken from “What We Talk About When We Don’t Talk About Service” by Adam Davis
This piece works primarily to emphasize how power dynamics are present in service work and how, if unnoticed, these dynamics hold the potential to perpetuate inequality. Davis identifies the primary difference between the server and the served in the case of service to be the role of freedom. Simply put, the individual doing the service has chosen to serve while the individual being served is so served because they need said service. The fact that the service dynamic requires one player to “live in the realm of freedom” while the other lives “in the realm of necessity” means that it requires inequality to function. Furthermore, Davis asks if perhaps the server enjoys this state of inequality in which they take on the position of the superior. Service ideally stands as a means to lessen inequality, but Davis argues that, if service is used to affirm one’s superiority, it likely will never achieve its idealistic goal. A Key Point Taken from “Educating the ‘Good’ Citizen: Political Choices and Pedagogical Goals” by Wetheimer and Kahne In their piece identifying how different forms of citizenship fit into a society, Wetheimer and Kahne first note three types of “good” citizens: the personally responsible citizen, the participatory citizen, and the justice-oriented citizen. The personally responsible citizen is defined as an individual who follows the rules, donates to causes and volunteers, simply put, an individual who does all and more than what is expected of them, all on a largely individualistic scale. The participatory citizen is an individual who is active in civic affairs, organizing events for those in need and encouraging voting. The final definition is that of the justice-oriented citizen. The justice-oriented citizen observes matters of injustice in society and calls for “collective strategies for change” to challenge said matters of injustice. While it is the least commonly pursued, the justice-oriented citizen, the authors argue, is most crucial in certifying democracy because it is the only citizen which can identify and challenge institutions of power. Reflecting on “Identity and Social Action: The Role of Self-Examination in Systemic Change” by Tania D. Mitchell As the child of a professor who teaches primarily about race and gender, a good portion of my life was spent being lectured on the importance of recognizing my privilege. While acutely aware of my many privileges (especially those granted to me as a middle class white person), I often found myself exasperated, wondering what I, as so privileged an individual, could do without heightening my privilege. I was ashamed to think that whatever successes I achieved my life would be in some ways the product of my privilege and was terrified that any way of pursuing my interest (I sought to understand how people react to cultural difference and work to promote peaceful cross-cultural interaction), would only serve as some form of colonialism through “helping.” It was with poorly concealed frustration that I confronted my mother with these concerns, asking her how I would ever be able to work beyond my identity to make the change I wanted to see in the world. She told me first that no, I would never be able to escape my identity. Noting my displeasure, she added that this didn’t mean I would be unable to do meaningful work in my fields of interest, and that the fact that I was so aware of my identity was a crucial element in my ability to do said work. She spoke of humility, how I would need to allow myself to follow, the listen, to learn. She then reminded me that whatever role I would play in the huge effort of establishing a better world, I would discover through listening to others and knowing myself. This conversation many years ago rushed to the surface as I read Mitchell’s article. Mitchell explains how she has found that students, when responding to injustice, could far better make sense of their roles within the system when faced with their own identity. In understanding one’s identity and learning of others’ identities, Mitchell explains, “we move from assuming to understanding.” In this place of understanding we can understand not only what change must be made, but our own roles in making said change. In “Three Myths of Migrant Literature,” immigrant to Germany and author, Sasa Stanisic argues that the way in which literature written by immigrants has been grouped into the single genre, “migrant literature,” undermines the diversity of said literature and denigrates the perceived legitimacy of these individuals as writers.
First Myth: Immigrant literature is in itself a distinct category of literature and cannot belong to any other literary field. Second Myth: Immigrant literature deals exclusively with migration and multiculturalism. Third Myth: An immigrant author, if they write in a language besides their mother tongue, they use it in a unique way, adding something “exotic” to the lexicon. It’s funny to think that I had never consciously linked gentrification to colonialism. In many ways, the process of gentrification perfectly mirrors colonialism: a more endowed (endowed in weapons regarding colonialism and money regarding gentrification) population enters an area and wields its endowed powers to take over the resources of said area, taking those resources from the population initially inhabiting it, and in many cases forces that population to leave; the “invading” population justifies their imperial acts in various ways (in the case of colonialism, arguing that they are colonizing so as to “civilize the natives,” and in the case of gentrification, arguing that they are “ridding the neighborhood of crime”).
While the comparisons between gentrification and classic colonialism are not difficult to draw, it is more difficult to compare gentrification to “colonialism via ‘development,’” a process outlined by Ivan Illich in his speech, “To Hell with Good Intentions.” In his 1968 speech, Illich identified “development” and “service” trips of Americans to impoverished regions of foreign countries as a means of spreading American ideals and “colonizing” the mode of thought in these locations. This style of “colonialism via ‘development’” does hold similarities to gentrification and classic colonialism in that the relationships in all three fields are unequal and rooted in power dynamics (the dynamics in foreign development being in fact rooted in classic colonialism), and involves the more “powerful” population generally silencing the other population in a way which the dominating group see as well intentioned, but it also holds a distinct difference. The main difference I see between foreign volunteering and gentrification is that those who participate in the foreign volunteer work receive no, or very few physical benefits in their actions. While a traditional colonist attains land and wealth (at least hypothetically) through conquest and the gentrifier attains space through inexpensive purchase, the volunteer attains nothing besides experience, a potentially boosted ego, and maybe an increased level of respect among their peers. No individual does anything for purely altruistic purposes and thus even the volunteer will only volunteer as long as they are finding self-benefit in their actions. The difference between foreign volunteerism and gentrification/classic colonialism, in my opinion, is that, while the field of foreign volunteerism is typically expressed in ways confirming colonial mentalities (we must help these lost souls by introducing to them our superior ways), it doesn’t have to be this way. Since volunteers in these fields largely are participating because they genuinely like helping people and are seeking new cross-cultural experiences, the foreign volunteer field could be radically changed so that it is more controlled by the populations in which the work is taking place and thus less perpetuates a savior mentality so much as that of the volunteer as the humble helper, and people will still volunteer. Maybe fewer will volunteer once they see that a program will not allow them to assume an air of superiority through altruism, but if I am right in understanding why most individuals seek to volunteer abroad, I believe that there will remain a workforce, ready to exchange labor for experience and learning. Questions for Panelists:
Three Key Points from “Creative Activism and Art Against Urban Renaissance and Social Exclusion”4/24/2017
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AuthorStudent at the University of Washington, Sophie Aanerud, will be studying abroad in Berlin, Germany. Here are some of her thoughts . . . Archives
August 2017
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