Us vs Them

It was kind of serendipitous to leave the political and academic setting of the Post-Development conference in Kassel for a very hands-on, relational workshop on Theater for Living. With the topic being “Us vs Them”, I took some time for reflecting my relation to this particular topic and how this may have played into my wish to participate.

My own „Us vs Them“
My “Us vs. Them” feels like it has much to do with my conscious and cautious self-positioning as a white privileged person, in a relationship with an “oppressed” (from my perspective, while he wouldn’t agree to such labeling of himself at the moment) Person of Colour and our child. It feels as if it was weaved into my wish to be “one of them” – to stand on their side to fight the right battle alongside them – in my particular personal history mostly referring to Rwandans – but seemingly prototypically for all African people. With this desire, knowing that I can never physically be one of them (if it truly is about skin colour), I feel trapped in the urge to side with them, while never really being able to leave the us – at least inside of my head, in the ways I am personally othering myself.

To explain my struggle with and the story behind this positioning, let us travel some 9 years back in time. 2010, in preparation of my voluntary year in Kigali (Rwanda), I first came in touch with the perspective of structual racism through the walk of power/privilege – and I was deeply confused, because I had never seen myself as one of the disadvantaged. In there, however, I noticed how people were advancing forward one step at a time, while I stayed somewhere in the back of the room. Comparing my own social position to those of others was awful and strange. And I felt like all of this did not even matter a single bit when I was in Rwanda shortly after. I admit, I sometimes played out the “I-am-not-as-purely-German-as-the-others-“ card when I was asked about my origin and I would rightfully say Kazakhstan. It was a complex ( )story.

More than six years have passed with a condition of trying to make myself pay for a collective legacy of guilt and Eurocentrism. I felt like I was given the only taste of healing through pregnancy and giving birth to our son – who was neither ‘us’ nor ‘them’. I felt this sense of him being the impersonification of all my desires for re-humanization and decoloniality – and still, over time, I realized that my and my partner’s positionalities put our child in a very tense and difficult situation, because he can never fully be “us” here, and never fully be “them” there – no matter from which place and position you voice this, it might be holding true (in a very pessimistic sense).

Theatre for Living
Back to Hamburg, September 2019. I entered the workshop of Theater for Living with this  lived heaviness of “us vs them”, the desire of being with “them”, not really expecting too much about the topic as such, but much more excited to learn about the technique which I haven’t experienced myself yet.

The academic journeying into the post-development conference in Kassel, has left me with sense of powerlessness that usually haunts me after deep reflections on the world and its future/systematic change. Still, it has poured some drops on a seed of agency that lies buried in my head (or heart?). With Theater for Living, I felt like the soil has been watered, fed and exposed to the sunlight, because of a sense of agency that was created in concrete theater exercises, derived from lived and felt experiences of the people in the room.

Theater for Living is based on Augusto Boal’s Theater of the Oppressed, and it transcends it through a systemic understanding of oppression (and all other social phenomena). It aims not just to storytell at them (the oppressors), but rather with them, acknowledging that the oppressors and their violences are not just something out there, but are weaved into and have grown out of the community as such.

Agency
And it did take courage. David used to say “making theatre (or anything) about people we want to help does not take as much courage as making theatre about us”. The Eurocentric way of thinking and doing politics/development/peace has been perfecting the judgement calls on people over there, while rarely looking itself in the mirror and thereby acknowledging the entanglement of histories across the globe. David’s observation that communities are hungry for storytelling resonated in my cells and fueled my desire to listen to the stories we share collectively. 

Offering, adding to and transforming stories became collective therapeutic practice inside the living organism of the group. It was miraculous.

For the first time ever since I started to read and learn about coloniality and racism, capitalism and modernity, I could feel a true sense of agency in the small stories that were present in the room. It chills me to the bones even as I write these lines. David repeatedly said: Specifity creates Universality, and it became alive through the experiences I was given in this workshop. I realized that what might seem as mundane stories in my own life mirror larger stories of global interconnectedness and the big pictures that I often seemed to feel powerless about.

Back to my “us and them”. Eventually, through the practice of techniques and methods from Theater for Living, I understood through my body what has been cognitively clear to me ever since I dived into peace studies, namely that the illusion of seperation is at the root of conflict. There is no us and them, and where there is, it arises from a conglomerate of needs and fears which want to be heard. My personal story of „us and them“, along with my desire of being with them, is eventually not a story about taking position on either side of the oppression or the violence. It now feels more like Ndlovu-Gatsheni calls it – choosing „the will to live“ as a decolonial attitude against the „the will to power“ which is at the base of coloniality. Hence, I find myself at precisely the crossroads that David identified when he said that we might need to change the tactic: Instead of merely protesting against something we don’t want, let us rather creating change that we do want.
The systems theoretical approach that lies at the foundation of Theater for Living provides it with powerful and transformative qualities of personal and collective agency. With deep and heartfelt thanks, I remain activated by these insights.

Thank you David.

Further Reading

Diamond, David. 2007. Theatre for Living. the art and science of community-based dialogue.

Children of Imperialism

Kazakhstan, the vastness of your miraculous steppe does something with me; responds to the calling of my soul, lingering ‚home‘. Vastness, freedom, where borders neither exist nor claim their control.

Kazakhstan, place I was born into. Where my mother and my father have grown up, were educated and socialized. It did not take me long to understand that I am a child of imperialism. I hear the colonial legacy in comments such as „Kazakh people are not able to work properly“ or „You cannot trust them, they have these (makes a face to mimic ‚Asian‘ facial features) eyes“. Something within me calls for dropping this legacy, while I know that I can’t ever rid myself of the entanglements of my ancestors‘ histories and the paths that my being-in-this-world paves for my descendants and their generations. Between moral and energetic (holistic) reasonings, I swirl back and forth between differentiating myself from the imperialist mindset of Russian (Soviet) settlers and integrating myself into the wholeness of what happened here.

Kazakhstan, land of the wanderers. Coinciding with the brutal scars that have been left upon you by forced deportation, starvation and cultural epistemicides. While walking through the national military museum, I can’t help myself but assuming that all these paintings decorating the giant walls (which have no creation dates) depict processes of mimicry of the Western ideology that sets what counts as ‚culture‘ – a certain type of fine arts, a certain way of exposing objects, a certain… kind of ‚civilization‘.

I do not know whether and how the global colonial matrix includes the imperial relation between the former Soviet Union and the regions and peoples it swallowed. Yet, I did read that the governmentally-induced famines of the 1920 and 1930s decimated the native Kazakh population to become a national minority, constituting a dramatic, yet forgotten genocide.

No, I cannot shake this legacy off, when I am amidst the German-Russian part of my family who push the memories of Kazakhstan and Soviet times to the edges of their being-in-this-world. When I touch a sense of transgenerational traumatization that is being relativized by reminders of rational reasoning, economic welfare in the present and a desire for development in the future. No, I can neither shake this legacy off when I visit the Russian-Ukrainian part of my family in Kazakhstan, where latent downgrading of Kazakh natives accompany everyday life. Where holding on to an idea of Soviet-Russian civilization, culture and groupness constitutes a sense of belonging, which constantly represses its own shadows.

But this legacy has called me, whispering songs of its longing for truth, integration, acknowledgement. And has sparked in my heart a fire of a decolonial attitude, which silently screams for reconstitution of love and shared humanity as foundation of being-in-this world.

As a child of imperialism, my soul longs to unite with a harmony that has never fully gone lost. I am also a child of the world.

Kazakhstan Calling

In family conversations, it often seemed to me that Kazakhstan is associated with the past, something backward, which needed to be left behind and overcome. With my choice of working through transgenerational traumatization of German-Russians in the former Soviet Union, I now perceive this association as a symptom of precisely this need to forget, deny, ‚move on‘ that comes with diverse forms of trauma.

For my father, however, Kazakhstan was present, more than was the newly built life in Germany back in the 1990s. This has led to changes in the original constellation of my family, when Kazakhstan has kept on pulling him and took him back eventually.
While I have embraced other presents, too, an occasional calling that emanates from Kazakhstan remains with me. It lies within my comfort to hear people speaking the Russian language (which, nevertheless, is still an imperialist language for native Kazakhs). When someone would ask me, however, if I speak Russian, I reply „Я не говорю по русски. Я только понимаю немного“ and shake off the possibility of re-connecting to a language that coloured and brought to life my early childhood.
It lies within a deeply rooted melancholy of listening to songs that embody a longing for the East, the tears that run down and clean my face when I grasp its lyrical poetry, its harmonical and rhythmic familiarity, and stand face to face with the void such music evokes within me.

On the first glance, there is not much that still connects me to Kazakhstan, besides being born and being emigrated from there. Yet, in the wake my 9 month-engagement with German-Russian family histories in the former Soviet Union, Kazakhstan in particular, I have begun seeing a broader picture. One that goes beyond my personal biography, or that of my parents. Or that of my grandparents. Or that of my great-grandparents. I carry parts of these legacies within myself, many as ghosts that I wouldn’t dare to face, others as sweet or sour reminders of a past that lies before, but also a future that lies behind us. And so Kazakhstan has been calling me anew, ever since I had begun and more so since I finished working on my Master thesis (from March 2018 to December 2018).

Tomorrow, I am embarking on a journey to respond to this call, for a journey to Kazakhstan, my motherland, my fatherland, and not my land at all (for the histories it took).

A Plea for more Smiles

27 April 2017

Dear Baby Liam,

i recently realized that this is the first episode in my life in which I smile on a regular basis. When I open my eyes in the morning after having instructed several classes of Yoga the day before, feeling sore in almost every part of my body, and my gaze turns to the side where your big brown eyes are staring at me waiting to meet my eyes and you respond with a big happy smile, I cannot but smile back. Smiling is a safe and sure path to happiness. And this time is certainly one of the happiest times I have experienced so far. Thank you for teaching me this simple, yet effective wisdom: Smiling creates happiness.

Weiterlesen „A Plea for more Smiles“

A Loving Meditation

12 April 2017

Dear Baby Liam,

I could sit for hours and watch you sleep, smile, cry, struggle with your digestion and curiously watch your surrounding. Sometimes time stands still, when you laugh, when your gaze meets my eyes, I could get lost in yours. Your little mouth makes bubbly sounds, as if you were telling me about things that occupy your mind.

I am sitting, responding, asking you questions. Yet, as time seems to stand still when you smile, I have the feeling that this precious episode is running through my hands like sand. That the people who advised me to enjoy every moment of this time, because it runs and children grow up so fast, are right. I don’t realize how fast you grow when I look at you, but sometimes it hits me when I dress you and the clothes that fit you yesterday are tight and almost a number too small today. And I wish I could stop the time for a moment just to become aware of your beauty, your grace, your curiosity and your pure love. You certainly turned my world upside down, and made me realize that there is no need to rush through life – to rush through Bachelors and Masters degrees, jobs and holidays, from one project to another. You remind me that life is the biggest of all gifts and that it needs to be lived with awareness and mindfulness, each day anew.

Loving you is meditation, every day.

Your Mum.

Family (Re)union 2.0

Tue, 21 March 2017

Dear Baby Liam,

the time has come to meet your Daddy! He received his visa for family reunion last week, and is coming in two days. What a journey these past 6 years have been for your parents – we were waiting for miracles, trying to reunite your mother and father – with all of our attempts ending up with me flying back to Rwanda, because I could. Often times I felt like standing against a system that is profoundly racist, standing against visa regulations that were impossible to fulfill for someone like your father: an artist without stable income, without the so called “Rückkehrergrund”- a reason to return to his country Rwanda. We would sit together in our neighborhood in Kigali thinking through all the possibilities that we had to finally settle together: with me still in my studies, I could not permanently move to Rwanda, and for him to receive a Schengen-visa was unthinkable under the conditions I mentioned. As I returned almost every time I could, and stayed for as long as I could, Rwanda became home to me.

Weiterlesen „Family (Re)union 2.0“

The Tao of Parenting – or of Being in the World

02 March 2017

Dear Baby Liam,

as the first weeks with you are passing by, well-meant advice, nursing and parenting tools have already been shared with me by a wide variety of people:

•“You should control him, make him tired so that he can sleep well”

•“You should let him scream when he is hungry so that he eats only every 3 hours”,

•“It’s wrong to carry him so often”…

•“let him learn how to be alone”….

•“You should clean him with milk”…

•“Give him yoghurt for digestive problems”,

are just some of the examples I get to hear from experienced mothers, and some who wish to be one. It seems like everyone knows best what is good for you, and would like to see their methods applied, believing that what worked for them will work for you too. While these are just seemingly irrelevant little aspects of parenting, I started to reflect upon why I am so strongly resisting the idea that anyone knows better what is good for you than you and me.

Weiterlesen „The Tao of Parenting – or of Being in the World“

Control is an Illusion

14 January 2017

Dear Baby Liam,

I have been wondering what to write into my letter for you, as you are exactly 39 weeks old today. My mind has stopped reflecting obsessively and is rather looking forward to the day you are born, encouraged by the aches and limits of my body which longs for the day to come closer. Yet, my soul sits in stillness as both of our souls get ready to disconnect on a physical level. It is an exciting time, enriching, awakening.

Weiterlesen „Control is an Illusion“

Dream it Alive

29 December 2016

Dear Baby Liam,

we are moving closer to the due date, and with every day that passes, physical activity becomes increasingly difficult. Contractions have started to kick in occasionally, and the skin on my upper belly is burning as it stretches.

I thus spend my days in preparation of your arrival with activities that soothe the pains, calm the mind and challenge the spirit – although most of my night are sleepless, and the days are less speedy than they used to be. It happens that I wake up in the middle of the night and struggle to fall asleep again, so I grab my notebook and watch some films or play music to relax.

Weiterlesen „Dream it Alive“