Morgan on questioning everything you've always known

I’ve been thinking about all of the things I want to tell next year’s group at our dinner where we tell them all the stuff that couldn’t/shouldn’t/wasn’t asked during the symposium. The biggest point that keeps coming up is to tell them they will not have enough time here. There will never feel like there is enough time and you will always want to do a million things. Keep track of your keys! They are so important and cannot be lost. Concerts at Kirstenbosch are so much fun and you should try to go to as many as possible. Keep a journal. You will be so grateful you can remember tiny details from the whole semester because of what you’ve documented. Don’t be afraid to be a tourist. Taking pictures is another really important part of remembering all that we do, and we are tourists living in this country so it’s okay. Try not to constantly be on your iPhone or other respective smart phone. The best times are the times when everyone is present and participating in a conversation. Do not be afraid to question everything you have always known. That is really the point of this trip and even though it’s ridiculously scary, this process is necessary for you to become who you want to be for the rest of your life.

Melissa on more than just a theatrical experience

Curl Up and Dye. More Than Just a Theatrical Experience

On Tuesday night we all got dressed for dinner and the Theater at Nelson Mandela Square in Sandton. We were going to see the play Curl Up and Dye which was a famous play written in 1989. This play was a radical portrayal of some of the challenges facing communities during the apartheid years. It depicted the relationship between two white women, a coloured woman passing as white, and two black women in a hair salon. They spend more time discussing life and politics than taking care of hair and this mirror into the world of 1989 was eye opening and shocking. While watching they show I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The scenes were electrifying and thought provoking and inspiring. I was at times confused but the overwhelming power of the performance reminded me that emotion can tell the story that words cannot. As we discovered the challenges of accepting the gray area as acceptable, I never expected to be impacted in such memorable way.

Set of Curl Up and Dye

 At the end of the show we had a chance to talk with the playwright and the cast. At first the questions were simple and I was still getting over the fact that we were meeting the cast, it was so unexpected! I was lost in their words and passion. We learned that this show has taken on many roles and as it’s being performed again years after the end of Apartheid audiences are responding very differently to this drama. When once the crowd would erupt in laughter they now sit quietly. Nothing is sugar coated and the accounts are realistic so now when people watch they are stuck. Should I laugh? Is this actually embarrassing? Are they in fact right? Is our society today anymore just? It is really difficult to see the oppressive actions of your life displayed for an audience since many people do not know whether to be proud or be distant. The playwright said that many people who see this play are “diseased” they are suffering from complacency and more so are those who are not in attendance at all. Those are the people who often need to see this. The mirror that this show created shared that the gray area still exists and when we stand up proud and pronounce that racism doesn’t exist anymore what we are actually saying is that silently we are still judging people and discriminating based on race. Everyone is. The world is still paying for the price that cost us during the Civil Rights Movement and Apartheid years. We create a new gray area each day we don’t talk about the issues that our society still faces today; we prefer to distance ourselves because that’s easier. But is it really? I was once again reminded that we often learn the most when we do not expect to be educated at all!

This conversation was such a raw experience and when so often we are caught up, fascinated or tongue tied not knowing what to ask or say watching this organic exchange felt like I was practically watching a whole other show. The actors and actresses shared with us their experiences growing up in Apartheid. From those who unknowingly perpetuated the struggle as young children unaware of the consequences of their actions to those who faced its trauma each day it was an unbelievable conversation to whiteness! The emotion was real and hearing their accounts was better than the show. This was learning in its best form! I was shocked that I was watching this because for once I felt like people spoke about the things that were tough. As intense as it was, difficult to hear, I was appreciative for their accounts and honesty. I didn’t need to know what to ask because having the freedom to talk about the past was motivation enough to get this cast really going. I couldn’t say how much time passed because I was so engrossed and impressed by this conversation. I learned so much! Experiencing this shed a new light on the passion and impact of theater and I believe the cast was just as influenced as we were.

These conversations need to happen! We must talk about the tough stuff and more importantly, we need to learn from those around us and acknowledge their stories as a part of our own whether or not we understand how just yet. 

Ethan on creating unique relationships

30 Strangers 2 months ago, now friends I will have for the rest of my life. I think it is amazing how close our group has become, and I think this program is unique in creating these relationships. Not only are we forced, to live, eat, work, and study side by side we often undergo many life-defining moments while here. We are all together on this journey and we must cling to each other to survive. To thrive, to become fully realized individuals. The privilege to have a group of intelligent, friendly, open-minded people is one that should not be overlooked. A group to seriously converse on the problems of the world, the problems of South Africa, and the problems we as individuals face everyday. Over the past two months I have realized how incredible, beautiful and unique each soul on this trip is. These creative, dedicated group of people is one I am privileged to know. I love them all. And this simple fact gives me such happiness, for how can one be sad when they are surrounded with people they love? 

Andrea on heterosexual privilege

This past weekend I went to Cape Town’s Pride March. After an 8-hour concert the night before, and only four hours of sleep, I had to wake up to go into town to get to the march on time – and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. As my alarm buzzed and I became conscious that my feet were still throbbing from the night before, I delusionally hit snooze thinking to myself it was physically impossible to drag myself out of bed.  Four or five snooze-buttons later, I became conscious enough to realize I had to get up or I would miss it. An hour later, I got to the march with a bunch of other students in our UConn program.

           

Erica, Aimee, Wylie, Andrea, Lindsay, Elise

The march was the most fun I’ve had in my time here. It was definitely the most joyous event I’ve ever attended. We danced along behind a colorful float, sang along with the music playing, waived to onlookers and smiled for cameras. It felt like such a surreal experience. I’m not sure what I imagined a pride march to be (‘march’ because, “the pain and suffering is not over for everyone, it will be a parade when everyone’s equal,” a man at the march explained to me) but I certainly didn’t expect it to be so incredibly fun. Absolutely everyone there seemed to not just be smiling – but beaming. The happiness was contagious and I don’t think anyone that witnessed the parade was untouched by some sort of joy, or ‘pride’.

           

 I’ve always considered myself to be an ally of the LGBT community, but I’ve never been to a march before, largely I think because I just haven’t been to a march or picket for much of anything (except for on campus at UConn when they’re convenient to join) – but also, if I’m being totally honest with myself, maybe because of the judgment or stigma in society about being gay. Why should I go to a march or parade for something I’m not? Will people think I’m a lesbian if I go? Will people think I’m a gay if I’m too gay-friendly and too passionate about helping achieve equality for all people? I’m ashamed to say the thoughts have crossed my mind before (and it’s how I’m sure I’m the product of a heterosexist, homophobic society). I’m not proud of my fears before, but I’m proud to have come to the realizations that I have about what I believe in and what I value. 

           

It’s been difficult to grapple with the idea that I’ve been a recipient benefiting from white privilege since before I was born, and that I’m only realizing how racist our society is now – after more than two decades on this planet, but I’ve become a far more open and I think better person because of that knowledge. Dancing down the street behind a float at the march, I saw a shirt that said “stop heterosexual privilege” and I almost stopped it surprised me so much. I’ve heard the combination “we live in a racist, sexist, heterosexist society” more times than I can count, but I’ve never truly considered the last part - heterosexist.

           

 Just as overwhelmed as I was by the realization that white privilege is very real and that I’ve always benefitted from it, I was struck by the idea that this other institution is equally real and perhaps even more prevalent because it transcends race – affecting all people. I started to think about all the ways that heterosexism pervades our society. Commercials. TV shows. Movies. Newspaper Ads. Lyrics. The emojis on my cell phone. I haven’t been able to think about anything since Saturday morning that isn’t heterosexist. It’s disarming and overwhelming all over again to realize how unaware I’ve been about something so real in our society.

           

 Luckily, just as aware as my classes and experiences here have made me, I’ve also been taught how to be an activist – to address the issues I’ve learned about that I want to help fix. I was recently told that we have 3 things in this world: time, energy and resources – and that every time you spend one of them, you’re casting a vote for the type of world you want to live in; and with that I’ve realized I may be only one person, but I do count. Because what if everyone turned a blind eye to issues that didn’t affect them personally? History has shown us what happens – and it’s not pretty.

            

We, as part of humanity, need to think and act more than individually. To me, that pride march is more than the LGBT community being proud of who they are, it’s about Cape Town’s allied community being proud that this sub-community exists – not ashamed. It’s about everyone being proud of who they are and celebrating your identity no matter what. It would have been all so easy to sleep in and pass on the march that ‘didn’t apply to me’. It would be easy to continue accepting the privileges of our heterosexist society – and white privilege. Returning to life as I knew it before this study abroad program would be easy – it’s change that’s hard – but with knowledge comes responsibility and I don’t think I can morally regress to who I was in the past – a person that doesn’t question society’s influences, or actively work to achieve equality for all (even in small gestures). And if spending a Saturday morning dancing along in a pride march helps raise awareness of the heterosexist society we live in and can help build a better more equal future for everyone, then I’m going to ‘vote’ for that tomorrow whenever I get the chance.