Stepping Into A New World

By Jimmy D.  

Me at Freedom Park overlooking Pretoria

When I told my friends I was going abroad they were shocked at the fact that I chose Africa. They said “why don’t you go somewhere normal like Europe” and laughed at the fact that I needed to take anti-malaria pills. My reasoning is I believe it is important to see the world, and not only go to the developed areas of the world, but also look at the developing areas that have a history of oppression. Learning about history is very important in being able to pave the path for the future.  One amazing part of the Nation Building, Globalization and Decolonizing the Mind program offered by CGEE is that not only are you looking at very developed areas such as Sandton which is considered the richest square mile of properties in all of Africa; you also get to compare it to one of the poorest townships in Johannesburg, Alexandra. Even though some of these townships may be poor in terms of money, they are rich in culture and heritage. During these tours we learned why and how this happened, and the simplest answer is that it’s an after effect of the Apartheid Regime.

 

Apartheid started in 1948 when the white minority gained power under the guise of the National Party (NP). The Apartheid system was put in place to control social and economic factors in South Africa to favor the NP. The black majority was paid very little wages to create wealth for the white minority in power. This happened through cheap labor and exploitation of the land and the rights of people who inhabited the land. To explore this issue further we took a tour of Soweto, which has a lot of historical context of Apartheid. As a group we saw how the people of Soweto struggled during apartheid, by being forced to live in Townships, in small, run down hostels and one room shared houses. Our tour guide highlighted how the Apartheid Regime would create division amongst the people of Soweto by separating them into communities based off of similarities and pinning them against each other by promoting violence and alcoholism which destroyed these communities and helped the apartheid regime (The NP) control the black majority. Another impactful visit of Johannesburg was the Hector Pieterson Museum, created to highlight the events leading up to the June 16th anti-Afrikaans protests. Hector Pieterson was a young boy who was shot during the June 16th 1976 Soweto protests. What was so important about this event was that the photo below was released to the world and sparked international attention to the horrors of Apartheid. This event also shows the power of media and how important it is to have freedom of the press.

                                                   

Antoinette Sithole, Hector Pieterson, and Mbuyisa Makhubo
 during the 1976 Soweto Uprisings

What South Africa is still struggling with is rebuilding after apartheid. 90% of the wealth is still held by the 8% white minority. Dale McKinley, one of our speakers and a former member of the South African Communist Party, spoke about how the African National Congress, (ANC) who took power after the apartheid regime fell, with Nelson Mandela as their leader, allowed for the white minority to stay in control of the economic “house”, while being able to take control of the social aspect of politics. The ANC believed it was important to fix the social aspect of politics to create equality and then later figure out how to redistribute the wealth, but as we see today unemployment is at an all time high and South Africa holds one of the worst Gini Coefficients. The Gini Coefficient determines wealth gap between the population within Nations. The ANC wasn’t wrong in what they did and I believe it was very important that they did whatever they had to do to reverse the apartheid era rules. As with any political action there must be a trade off, in this case it was social freedom and equality for all, while allowing the white minority to stay in control of the economic power. If this wasn’t done then the apartheid regime may of stayed longer than 1994. Also what is important to note is that it has only been 27 years since the apartheid regime came to an end and South Africa fully gained independence. I believe that South Africa has come a long way in the short time that has passed and that they have a bright future, especially with the determined people who work and live in South Africa.

 

Lastly, I would like to include a poem I wrote based off my observations while we drove through Johannesburg.

“Untitled” By: Jimmy DiGiulio

As the road winds in, the skyline comes into view,

Artwork littered around the streets, wall to wall

Trash lying beautifully on the ground as if it belonged,

Poverty is just as prevalent as the cars weaving in and out of the people,

Struggle and sacrifice unite those who reside.



One of the buildings in the Alexandra Township in Johannesburg

 

Week 1: Breaking Stereotypes

By Keith Nagel

Stereotypes of a place are easy to recognize and hard to forget. The images that I expected to see upon arriving in Johannesburg, South Africa were immediately challenged, strengthened, and altered by what I saw in front of me. Johannesburg is a city in transition, a transition that began in 1994 and has continued to this day. The mainstream media’s mantra of a starving and forgotten Africa is in small part truth but in large part far from it. There is clearly wealth in South Africa. Even before I stepped foot on the continent I saw the gold mines scattered around the city of Johannesburg. The wealth from the countries resources I would soon learn is unequally shared among the population, leading to some of the highest inequality in the world.

A dilapidated hostel in Soweto stands in sharp contrast to the 

government houses that were left empty after poor policy

implementation.

While touring Soweto, a particularly infamous township in Johannesburg, Molefi our local companion gave us a clear picture of the history and current conditions in the community. The picture was one that puzzled me. I came expecting extreme poverty, and there were certainly pockets of poverty that no human should be stuck in. However, I did not see the stereotype of poverty that I had expected, instead of shacks I saw houses nicer than my own and business centers sprawling with activity. There is much work to be done in the townships but I would argue that there are pockets of poverty in many parts of the United States that would rival those in Soweto, particularly in immigrant labor camps and Native American reservations. This realization put into perspective that although conditions are tough in South Africa, there is certainly hope in strengthening the middle class in Johannesburg if the inequality train does not run off the tracks.

A picture with our host family in Soweto, the Nkosi family 
welcomed us with open arms. Getting to know the community 
through their eyes was an unforgettable experience.

My confidence in the community was only strengthened by my homestay with Mr. Nkosi and his lovely family. Staying in Soweto for a time, engaging with friends and neighbors in the community, and learning from both young and old residents of Soweto revealed to me that the conflict in South Africa is no longer along racial lines, but along class lines. There is a clear divide between the have and the have not’s. Community leaders that we visited in the Orange Farm region blamed globalization and the capitalist system for the country’s woes, while a guest speaker and the youth that we spoke to blamed aging leadership in the ANC. The ANC brought South Africa out of a long oppression under the apartheid regime, but many believe that the African National Congress is holding the country back.

The wealth disparity was clearly evident in the extravagance 

of Sandton mall, which was a departure from the poverty 

we had seen earlier in our tour. 

A short visit and presentation at the U.S. Embassy in Pretoria showed that the United States is very interested in continuing to strengthen economic and political ties with South Africa in order to foster a better economic environment for the many U.S. companies in the country. This is good news for the South African government as trade with the U.S. is an essential portion of their GDP, however where that wealth ends up is another question altogether. One must look no further than the wealth disparity between the poor townships of Soweto or Alexandria and the extravagant luxury of Stanton to realize that the wealth in Southern Africa does not trickle down as one would hope. The good news is that from what I have seen, South Africa has far more wealth than I expected, though the elephant in the room is how is the wealth to be shared in such an unequal society and whether or not the current political climate is fostering the necessary environment for continuous change. These are certainly questions worth exploring further.

Week One: Reflections on the Motherland

by Chiara White-Mink & Anne-Claire Merkle-Scotland

Apartheid ended 22 years ago when the first democratic elections were held in 1994, the same year I was born. For a nation that experienced so much horror in throughout apartheid these elections marked a new era of possibility and prosperity. That hope was shared throughout the world, when the message of a newly united nation travelled half-way across the world to the classrooms and schools I attended. However as residents and students in the United States, we should be well aware that change, especially social change, may take years and even generations to truly happen. Therefore, we were exposed to the realities of post-apartheid South Africa and the continuously growing economic challenges and disparities faced by South Africans, particularly the black citizens still facing severe effects from Apartheid.

Apartheid was crippling for black families, communities, and individuals by destroying communities and separating blacks from whites and sending them to specified “townships”areas of land outside of the cities where black people were confined to. Accessing medical care, education, and transportation cost money, and all the resources designated to blacks were far inferior in quality to the resources offered to white people only a few miles away. Blacks could not travel outside of their designated community, as well as work, attend school, or do almost anything without a permit.

Our current educational practices are a reflection of eurocentricity, intrinsically perpetuating the marginalization of communities of color and rendering us invisible in educational spheres. Blackness is positioned as the antithesis to whiteness and is thus implicitly framed as deficient and pathological. This is absolutely not indicative of Paulo Freire’s vision of education as a tool for liberation and social change. Instead, this exhibits an immensely problematic model of education that enables the success of the privileged at the expense of the oppressed. I, unfortunately, was unable to conceptualize my educational experiences as such until I began my collegiate career. I was provided with the space to critically reflect on my schooling, paying close attention to how aspects of my identity (such as race, gender, class, etc.) impacted what privileges and opportunities I was afforded and what I was deprived of. As a Black woman, I was faced with the harsh reality of oppression on the basis of race and gender. The most potent example of deprivation I can think of is the lack of culturally relevant material/the inability of educational spaces to centralize African-Indigenous belief systems as a method to empower students of color and expose white students to an undervalued world view; and subsequently, the expectation for students of color to assimilate to hegemonic notions about success.

Thus, my trip to the continent of Africa signifies my journey to increased critical consciousness, psychological emancipation and self-love, a revolutionary act. Education is intricately connected to our sense of humanity and I desperately sought an educational outlet that not only recognized, but honored my humanity. I concluded that this program attempted to a foster a space grounded in anti-oppressive ideology and actions that reflect intentionality and purpose. The first week of the program was spent in Johannesburg, South Africa where we went on various field trips to become critically acquainted with the country. I was deeply disturbed by the failure of my educational systems to acknowledge the interconnectedness of the struggle for liberation here and in the United States, or rather acknowledge the plight of people of color beyond the United States, period. It is also important to highlight the manner in which information is presented as well. Schools, as I have articulated above, typically convey information in immensely problematic ways (the dominant narrative), often excluding vital narratives and potent perspectives. Thus, I felt beyond privileged to hear about events here in South Africa from the voices of people directly involved, because I know that my educational spaces are lacking. One thing in particular I have been marinating on is the role of ordinary people in worldwide liberation struggles. This stood out to me on our visits to the Hector Pieterson museum and Orange Farm Human Rights Advice Centre. At Orange Farm, we had the opportunity hear from people on the micro level about issues that impacted their community. For once, leaders who rose to national prominence were decentralized and it was more about the work ordinary people are doing to provide for their communities. They actually shared their thoughts on one leader we have all been conditioned to love—Nelson Mandela. I am not attempting to refute his importance or discredit his accomplishments, but I was forced to critically analyze Mandela in a way like never before—in a way that countered the dominant narrative surrounding his political reign. The Hector Pieterson museum was especially interesting because we got to speak directly to Antoinette Sithole, a key player in the June 16, 1976 Soweto Uprising that resulted in the death of her brother. It is about time that we recognize the bravery and resilience of everyday people who are not necessarily internationally known or praised. 

Through visits to communities such as Orange Farm, located about an hour outside of Johannesburg, we saw and heard about the enormous problems within education and employment that poor communities are still facing even 22 years after the country was supposedly desegregated. With little resources offered from the government, schools continue to suffer from overcrowding and lack of materials, while adults and young adults are facing high rates of unemployment and lack of opportunities. Speaking to citizens, we learned how frustrated black South Africans are with the lack of economic mobility since the end of Apartheid. Still stuck in an oppressive and vicious cycle of poverty, many citizens have given up on expecting the government to create real effective change after so many years of what many view as false promises. One of our speakers Molefi Mataboge said it best when he stated “When politicians talk, we must listen not to what they’re saying, but to what they’re not saying.”

Coming to South Africa, I was expecting to see the land of Nelson Mandela and an integrated society somewhat free from the obstructions of apartheid, and constantly moving forward to maintain that promise of democracy shared throughout the world for years after apartheid ended. My experiences this week however showed me how much farther this great nation needs to go to truly see economic prosperity and opportunity for all of its citizens, and the serious changes that need to be made in order to make this happen.

The honorable Steve Biko once said, “The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.” I have recognized that education thus far has been the practice of domination—keeping me ignorant, silent, and perpetuating social inequities. I am here to build upon what I have been unlearning in the U.S. and am ready to take back my mind from the oppressor, by any means necessary.

Week Three: Disparity in the Mother City

by: Luke Beasley and Patrick Toomey

Sunday, our group had achieved a large degree of familiarity with the area in which we were staying in Cape Town. Our street was quiet, with several quaint cafes and restaurants across from the guest house, while only being a block away from one of the busiest sections of the city center. Coming back from our free day, which many of us spent at Camps Bay Beach (which sits right at the base of Table Mountain), we were excited to explore a very different part of Cape Town.

We spent our Sunday morning at Way of Life Church in Khayelitsha, the second largest township in South Africa, and home to millions of people. It is difficult, if not impossible, to gauge the exact number of residents in Khayelitsha because such a large percentage of them live in “informal settlements,” made up of tin shacks with no access to running water. At Way of Life Church, we met Pastor Xola Skosana, and observed his congregations service. It was definitely an unorthodox type of “religious” ceremony, and was far more of a safe place for black South Africans to gather together and discuss matters of white privilege and their experiences with oppression. Pastor Xola Skosana made a point of asking us our names and majors, and immediately after we finished sharing, he informed us that he “didn’t care” and did not try to remember our information; as he explained, this was an exercise in helping us as privileged Americans, many of us also being white, in understanding the experience of being a “forgotten” member of South African society (i.e. a black South African). The Pastor also asked us, “How are you able to sleep at night?,” referring to the fact that we were visiting South Africa to learn from its past, but in order to do so we required that victims of Apartheid relive and retell their traumatizing experiences. 

The meeting was definitely shocking, and it took many of us several days to process. Although some people were angry and upset, and certainly much of the group was at least confused, in the end it was a vital moment for our group. It was jarring, and it made us question our role in the world, and in Africa, as white people and as Americans. For many of us, it was the first time when we were required to feel nameless and forgettable, not to mention unwelcome, but it was undoubtedly a learning experience.

The next morning we spent at the District Six Museum learning about the area through the eyes of Noor Ebrahim. According to Noor, District Six is an area of Cape Town where around 60,000 black South African people were forcibly removed and placed into the area of the Cape Flats during Apartheid. Noor was living with his family in the district at this time and was one of the many that who through this difficult and unjust experience. Noor has told his story to many prominent figures including Nelson Mandela. After learning so much about Apartheid the previous week in Johannesburg, it was valuable to hear from the perspective of an individual that was profoundly impacted. It once again made everyone try to comprehend and understand an event that is so difficult for any of us to relate to. 

            Wednesday was our last full day in Cape Town and we were free to do whatever we wanted. After a week of thoughtful and challenging conversations with speakers and each other, it was a much needed break. Everyone had their own day full of adventures around the city, including seeing penguins, relaxing on the beach, going to a wine festival, paragliding, and surfing. We were exposed to the incredibly beautiful touristy side of Cape Town that has captivated people from all over the world. However, after the week’s experiences we know that there is much more to Cape Town than catches the eye of most. We saw the incredibly complex and difficult problems that the local people face every day–poverty, privilege, racism, discrimination, and HIV/AIDS that affect everyone in some way. Amidst all of these problems are many individuals and organizations that are working tirelessly to make a difference and fight against the injustice. 

After our challenging, thought-provoking, and incredible two weeks in South Africa, everyone was anxious to finally arrive in Windhoek and get acquainted with our new home. In our first few days we took walking and driving tours trying to get sense of our city. Now that we are becoming settled into our new home, there is so much to look forward to in the next three months. With classes and internships starting soon, we reflect on the incredible amount we have already learned while preparing for the opportunities and experiences that are soon to come.  

Week Two: Living History

by Amanda Siskind

The thing about history is that there’s not much action needed. All the choices and plans have already been made, the important people highlighted, and the outcomes (for the most part) determined. The hard part of history comes from choosing to study it, and to study it properly. To completely immerse yourself into the stories that people tell, both the good and the bad. To hold that history in your memory as a reminder to learn from the mistakes of the past.

Chatting with Molefi as he takes us for a walk around Freedom
Park, a monument to memorialize those who have struggled for
liberation. His stories combine his personal history with facts
and information about larger movements.

This is something I have been thinking about, as we near the end of our time in Johannesburg and Soweto. Since we've been in South Africa, most of what we have been doing has been listening to people’s stories. I've quickly learned that stories are simultaneously an incredible and terrible way to study history. It’s incredible because only though such personalized accounts can we do our best to understand exactly what happened, how people felt, and how they reacted. We are incredibly lucky to be able to speak with Molefi, Moeketsi, our host families, and others and to be able to ask them questions and to have a dialogue. But it’s at the same time terrible because the other side of that luck is the knowledge that this history is recent and the scars are still fresh. These stories of pain and injustice aren't numbed by the pages of a textbook or the film of a documentary. But any discomfort that we feel has the much larger purpose of making sure that we remember these moments, and that we remember our feelings of shock and sympathy when we come across injustice in our lives.

After hearing all of these stories from the past week, it’s at first a little startling when we finally go to the Apartheid Museum at the end of our time in Johannesburg. Before I go in, I wonder if it’s not a bit backwards – shouldn't we have learned all of this before hearing personal stories? But as I wander through the Museum, I begin to feel that this is the right order to do things after all. The amount of history encapsulated in the museum is staggering, and had I been told at the beginning of this trip to take three hours to weave my way through the exhibits, I don’t think I would have been able to give the museum the attention and focus it deserves.

But now, with my head filled by a chorus of narratives, I find myself much more invested in reading every placard and watching every video. Every time my attention starts to wane, I notice a familiar detail and remember the sound of someone’s voice saying I remember when… or We used to… or This is what we did. It’s those memories that keep me interested and encourage me to keep learning. In particular, This is what we did inspires me the most to learn about the actions that people took to turn against the injustices around them.

Because the thing about history is that there’s not much action needed and while the hardest part of history is choosing to study it, the hardest part of being history is choosing how to live through it. It is easy for us to look back on the past and on its people and think How brave they were, to make those sacrifices. It is much harder to recognize that our actions at this moment are creating the history that someday future generations will hear passed down in stories or view in crafted museum exhibits. It is even harder to choose similar bravery and sacrifices for ourselves.

But just because it’s harder doesn't mean it isn't impossible. We have learned the history of the student uprisings of 1976 in Soweto, and we too are students who are interested in turning against the injustice of our world. We have already started to work towards this goal, both as individuals working on projects back at our respective colleges, and as a group having discussions at the dinner table and in our vans about the kinds of oppression we've seen and how to combat it.

This kind of work is being duplicated by students everywhere. We've seen in the United States a number of student activists working with Black Lives Matter, joining the People’s Climate March, and working to promote LGBT and women’s rights. In South Africa, we've learned about the #FeesMustFall campaign, where students are fighting to remove financial barriers to education.

After we leave Johannesburg, we drive to Bloemfontein and we spend a day visiting the University of the Free State and meeting the students and staff of the Institute for Reconciliation and Social Justice. The Institute was founded as a means to cultivate humanity to counter violence and disrespect, and the students are actively researching the kinds of changes that could be implemented and their impacts while also establishing institutional transformations to create the society they envision.

There are a lot of different ways to interact with history. Visitors
have written comments around a photography exhibit in the Regina
Mundi Church about the liberation struggle, encouraging people to
continue to fight against injustice today.

We spend the afternoon seated in a circle as Americans and as South Africans, unified as students invested in choosing the best way to live for our history. We talk about racism and how even though it may look slightly different where we come from, the impact, the frustration and the pain are still the same. We talk about the stereotypes that we hold of each other, and of the damage that those ideas create in inhibiting us from connecting with each other. We talk about the world that we want to see, and what we think needs to be done to get there.

It’s not an easy discussion by any means. It is now our turn to tell our stories, and our scars are just as fresh. We don’t have the comfort of knowing what choices and plans had been made or what the outcomes were, like we do when we study history. This is the present. All we know is there is action needed, but we don’t necessarily know which actions are the right ones or what the consequences or sacrifices will be.

The important thing is that we are not alone. We have our knowledge of history to keep us wise. We have our memories of the smiles of the people who have told us their stories, the reminder that in spite of hardship they survived and made a difference in the world. And most importantly, we have each other. We have shoulders to lean on when things get tough, and hands to pull us up when we think that our dreams are impossible. We have ears to listen and learn from each other, and mouths to spread the word and to grow our community ever bigger. We will make history this way, not as the ink of textbook pages, but as the words of stories spoken between people sharing a common goal of creating a better future. 

Week One: Healing Scars

by Nathanael Juliot

South Africa. It's a country that has been constantly pushing forward trying to overcome its past. Its land is vibrant and beautiful and its people are the same. Our first weeks in this program were spent studying this country, its people, and its history that has changed its landscape forever. Coming into this experience, I didn’t know a whole lot about South Africa or its history. I knew about Nelson Mandela and had watched Invictus, a film about how Nelson Mandela used the South African National Rugby team to unite the country,  and had heard a bit about the word apartheid, but I had barely scratched the surface of what this country had in store for me.

In our first week, we traveled through the city of Johannesburg where we met with many different historians, economists and people who had lived through Apartheid. What I quickly came to learn was that Apartheid was not some scarred event in South Africa's past, but it is very present in the everyday lives of South Africans even today. Apartheid had officially ended in 1994 when Nelson Mandela was elected president during the first open elections. This ushered in a new Constitution that created political freedom for all people regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, etc. The contradiction here, though, is that although everyone received political freedom, they did not gain economic freedom. South Africa is the most economically divided country in the world where the top percentage of the population owns most of the land and resources in the country. I noticed many similarities between the struggles of South Africa and that of the United States. With the US Presidential elections around the corner, the issues of divided wealth and political corruption have been at the forefront of the debates. Even though South Africa is on the other side of the world, they are dealing with the very same issues.

These problems in South Africa arise from their difficult past. Many South Africans lost their farms, homes and livelihoods to the Apartheid government and, even after 1994, did not receive any of that land back from the billionaires who now own it. This creates a severe contrast in living conditions between most white South Africans and black South Africans. In Johannesburg, we spent some time near the malls and in the affluent areas downtown. We were also able to experience the other end of the spectrum in Soweto, which holds between 3 and 4 million people in many former townships. This area was the land that black South Africans were banished to during the Apartheid government and many have been unable to leave due to widespread poverty. Others choose to stay because they have become established in Soweto and feel a close connection to the land and its people. I spent a weekend living with a host family in the Orlando area of Soweto, where I got to experience the extent of poverty in South Africa firsthand.

Our host family had a fairly modern home but you could still see the difference just by taking a look out the window. The house directly across the street was a small home with a tiny yard. In that tiny yard, the family had rented out the land for ten different families. Each family resurrected a small one room shack for their family to live in. So this tiny little yard was home to over 45 people that could coexist in such poor conditions. That was one thing I noticed immediately about South Africa, the community. People would look out for one another, and if a fight broke out in the street, everyone in the area would run to the rescue to break up the fight. It was interesting to compare these things to the United States, where our focus is very much so on individual prosperity rather than supporting the community. If a fight were to break out on the street in the United States, people would not intervene but instead watch in awe or even encourage it.

My host family took me to church which was held in a small one room schoolhouse with about 25 people sitting in school desks. South Africans tend to have a different sense of time as compared to many Americans. Many do not put the same value on the phrase “time is money” and they choose to not rush through their day to day activities. Because of this, church becomes an all day event. The first hour and a half of the service, the pastor didn't say a word. Instead, members of the congregation got up and said a few words or, more often than not, someone would randomly start singing a song and then everyone else would join in. This happened consistently for almost two hours and continued periodically throughout the pastor's sermon. What I gained from this experience was that these people had a close-knit community that did not worry about rushing off to the next event, knew all of the songs off the top of their head, and they loved to interact with one another. I felt extremely welcomed and was even told that my sense of rhythm was, "unlike that of any white man they had seen before", which I found rather entertaining. This was interesting to compare to what I know of church from my home congregation where people go to church just to check it off the list. People sneak in late and sneak out early and try to interact with as few people as possible. I can’t help but wonder how people at home would react coming into this new and exciting environment, full of love, community, and the Holy Spirit. Hopefully, I can bring some of what I learned from my South African friends and spread it to my own church community.

All in all, South Africa is a place that has been scarred by its history and forced into a difficult position where there exists political freedom for all of its people, but many people cannot escape the insurmountable strains of poverty set down by the Apartheid state. Because of this, there are still very distinct boundaries separating whites from blacks and racism is still very prevalent in the everyday lives of South Africans. Even though it has been over 20 years since the fall of Apartheid, South Africa is still a time of healing and well-needed growth and restructuring.

Week One: Unpacking South Africa

By Henrik Weber

We finally made it! After months of waiting, planning, and paperwork the seven of us arrived in Johannesburg ready for a semester learning about Nation building, Globalization and Decolonizing the mind.  From the first time we all met at Dulles International Airport in Washington DC, it was clear this was a group ready to ask the difficult questions and be receptive to the heavy truth.

Picture of Hector Pieterson's death.
Hector's body is being carried by another protester,
while his sister runs alongside.
Photo by Sam Nzima, 1976.

On the very first day we dragged our jetlagged bodies out of bed. Diving right into the atrocities of apartheid, we listened in horror as we heard Hector Pieterson’s sister tell the story of the day she witnessed the transformation of her brother from a young protesting school child to a martyr.

As we explored the Hector Pieterson museum we found ourselves astonished by the accomplishments of the students. They stood up to the apartheid Government despite being tear gassed and shot. 1976 student protest’s resulted with a change in social attitudes that toppled apartheid less than two decades later. Seeing this brought out the groups sense of student activist pride. These students had such a tremendous impact on the world because they chose to act, as students we felt overjoyed to see the youth had taken a stand for what they believed in.

Our journey then took us to Regina Mundi Church. As you walk around the inside of the building it is impossible not to feel the historical importance of the space. As the largest Roman Catholic Church in South Africa, Regina Mundi served as a gathering space for community leaders to meet during apartheid. Even when gatherings of three or more blacks were ban, the apartheid Government still let people congregate in Churches. This made the pulpit all the more important. Community leaders, at a great risk to their families and themselves, would make political speeches until warning came that police were in the area. At this point ministers would take the pulpit to give the illusion that worship was all that was happening in the building. Hearing stories and standing in the same spaces that have been occupied by the likes of President Clinton, First Lady Michelle Obama, Chancellor Merkel, and native heroes Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela, drives home the rich history that the building holds inside.  The bullet holes intentionally left in the wall and windows serve as a reminder of the tragedies that occurred and that no space was sacred to the authorities.

On our third day in South Africa we journeyed to Orange Farm. This experience was the “Classic Africa” many Americans have the image of. The power lines loose in the street and the tin houses smashed together like sardines greeted us as we got out of the van. Shock set in. We saw the living conditions that had been allowed to develop. The area has been deemed “temporary housing” since 1997. People are attempting to live in uninhabitable conditions whilst being met with empty promises from the Government about how they will be relocated to permanent structures. As we reflected on what life would be like if there was one fresh water spigot for the block, we recognized the difficulties of attempting to balance current needs with long term solutions to systematic issues. No one expects poverty to be eliminated now, but to walk around extremely impoverished area and recognized the realities of everyday life for such a large population was challenging for many of us. And that is the point of this journey. To challenge our world views and to expand our knowledge of the real world is the reason we traveled to the opposite side of the globe.

Photo of our group at one of the homestay houses in Soweto.

By the time the weekend reached us we felt as if we had known each other a year not a week. We said goodbyes and split into three groups to do homestays in Soweto. Soweto is made up of 30 or so townships. Under apartheid the townships were developed as housing areas for blacks, little was invested into them. To this day many live in hostels that could easily be mistaken for jails. Just over a hill and around a corner however, you start to see houses that resemble middle upper class American ones. This is the area we stayed. One group spent time with younger children, while another toured the neighborhood with a pair of teenagers, while another stayed with students of university age. Some groups spent a lazy Saturday at the mall while others volunteered within the community. On Sunday all the groups went to Church and gathered in the afternoon for a meal. The time in Soweto helped everyone to grasp the similarities and differences in day to day life between our respective home towns and this community that adapted us for a weekend. We all pushed ourselves to feel uncomfortable and at the end of the homestay came out better for it. 

Coming to terms with Soweto remains a challenge. To experience living in a poor neighborhood in comfort leaves an uneasy feeling of complacency. Leaving Church to a parking lot of BMW or Mercedes makes it easy to see those who are doing alright. It rapidly shifts how I view the world. More and more I find it to be true that we only see what we are looking for. Soweto is a place where you can see people doing well for themselves or others in desperate need of help. I’ve stared to see the bonds of economic apartheid that still exist today. Thinking critically about the types of obstacles in the way of equality leads down a road with no clear answers. Thinking, learning, and responding, to these experiences is something we are all eager to do.