Today I was given the Zulu name Mandla by Ditzwali (D.T) my guide through the South African township of Soweto. It is a translation of Andrew, greek for strong, brave and courageous. But D.T. had another reason for giving me that name that truly moved me. But let's start with why I am in Africa.
My MUN students from Burroughs have made a lot of connections with students from Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. There have not been a lot of students from African nations at our conferences. But there are numerous conferences in Africa. I wanted to see one for myself. The Johannesburg Model United Nations conference (JoMUN) run by the American International School of Johannesburg (AISJ) is a THIMUN affiliated conference. I figured I'd have a foot in the door and indeed they accepted my request to come as an observer and representative of MUNImpact. While the dates of this session would probably not work in our Burroughs calendar, I still wanted to see for myself this smaller and highly acclaimed conference.
Long flight to JNB booked? Check.
Invitation to JoMUN? Check.
Knowledge about African history? Clueless.
The least I could do before my visit was do some reading about Apartheid. Nelson Mandela's autobiography Long Walk to Freedom and Trevor Noah's Born a Crime were powerful to say the least and incredibly informative. I would strongly recommend hearing the audio version of Born a Crime, as Noah does the narrating himself. While still feeling pretty ignorant, once I learned that the conference theme was Africa Connecting, I had no doubt I would learn so much more from the students through their resolutions on topics focused on issues relating to the Continent, eg. addressing the issue of soil degradation and its effects on the agricultural sector in Africa, ensuring the independence of the African economies from debts and bankruptcy to foster sustainability, and addressing and possibly inhibiting Foreign Direct Investment throughout Africa.
The conference was connecting 250+ students from fifteen schools and seven African nations. They came from Ethiopia, Ghana, Namibia, Mozambique, South Africa, Swaziland and Zimbabwe. It was exciting to hear the students, some who were born, but all who live in Africa, talk with passion and curiosity about issues that affect their daily lives. In other words, I found the students took ownership of this theme and were invested in its outcome. I can't think of a better recipe for success at an MUN conference. And they genuinely wanted to interact with each other. I believe this generation, more than ever, understands that connections made at meetings like this, in addition to connections made on social media platforms, can really make a difference to improve their schools, their community, and their society.
My connection to the conference was the MUN Coordinator and librarian at AISJ, John Kurtenbach, who knew me only from the research he'd done on the internet, probably finding a photo in my Waldo/Wally outfit. Yikes! Regardless, as I arrived on campus fresh off 20 hours of traveling we immediately connected when he threw his arms around me in a huge embrace and then threw me into a room with the advanced debaters as their keynote speaker. For an hour I connected with these students by letting them share with each other their experiences (successes and failures) at MUN conferences and then I shared stories of action/projects/initiatives that I believe inspired them to an understanding that their work over the course of the weekend could lead to positive and impactful work that supports the Global Goals and thus making the world a better place for humankind. We talked about Hope for Education and Leadership in Afghanistan (HELA), Plug Into Model UN (PiMUN) and the Burroughs Tampon Drive. The Secretary General of the conference made reference to the quote by Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step". While MUN students often silently think that there is no way a single, simple project could be so impactful as to receive recognition from the real UN, I was there to say that nothing could be further from the truth. The United Nations IS listening to the voice of our youth. More than seeing our youth rise up in protest, MUN students are putting forth real, tangible, sustainable solutions that support the SDGs and that work is so important even UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres stated at our UN/MUN Summit meeting in April that he saw the MUN youth as his colleagues, working towards a common goal.
I spent the next three days connecting to the students and teachers at JoMUN who wanted to learn more about MUN Impact. As we talked about their initiatives they started in school clubs and activities I helped them make connections to which of the 17 SDGs and targets their projects aligned. It was almost a game for them and once the connections were made they all lit up with excitement and pride. Going around the world, talking with MUN students and directors to help them make these connections......by golly I love my sabbatical work!!!
To continue making connections and furthering my education about Africa, I found Ditzwali (D.T.) who guided me in Soweto. Infused with the history of the apartheid struggle and buzzing with energy, Soweto is a place of contrasts and a melting pot of South African cultures. Shanties juxtapose luxury mansions; filthy streets offset fields of green; and a history of destitution gives rise to new trends in politics, fashion, music, dance, and language. In Soweto he took me to the suburbs of Kliptown, Pimville, Rockville and Nomzamo Park.
Soweto is considered an english syllabic abbreviation for South Western Townships. To D.T. it derives from many South Africans wanting to reach beyond their current situation, and so they say out-loud, "So Where To?" Say it with a South African accent and it becomes Soweto. We drove through the different neighborhoods. My eyes were not fully open in the beginning as I saw only what I expected to see; poverty, trash, corrugated tin rooftops, large squatter communities in open fields. D.T. opened my eyes to a greater community. We met artists who I can only imagine bring joy in life to others through the song and murals covering border walls. I met the singing/dancing group New Flem Entertainment who performed for us in front of the Soweto Towers. They were one of many performance groups spicing it up a bit in the streets, hoping to make a few South African Rands. Artist Senza described his work (was it really his?) on a wall outside the Hector Peterson Museum. He was most telling of the penetrating whites of his figures' eyes that look into the soul of the people. At the museum I reflected on the horrors of June 16, 1976 when the police opened fire on students peacefully protesting in Soweto for a better education system. Hector Peterson, age 12, was the youngest to die that day. At least 600 students were killed and thousands were wounded in the months that followed. Thousands more were detained, tortured, charged and imprisoned. Up to 12,000 fled the country. In the aftermath, the liberation movements were strengthening, both at home and in exile. The spirit and determination of the school children resonated around the world, marking a turning point in the struggle for freedom and democracy in South Africa.
D.T. then introduced me to his friend who took me through his shantytown of Nomzamo Park in East Orlando. We wandered through the passageways between the shacks and we stopped when I saw something or someone I wanted to meet and photograph. I met Makhosahlangene (Makhosa) who was inside his home resting. Makhosa, his wife and four year old daughter live in this space that had a bedroom (the bed), a dining room (the table cart) and a kitchen (a longer table). Most personal items were lined up on the 2x4 wood beams that supported the corrugated tin sheets; a deck of cards, a belt, dish soap. When I asked Makhosa what one item he would take if he had to leave and not come back. I kind of expected him to open a tall thin cabinet that was at the foot of the bed. Instead he reached in his pocket and pulled out his ID Card. Plain and simple. History dictates you must have your papers at all times. He held it out proudly for me to see.
There were kids in the streets playing in the dirt, often with a ball or plastic bottle. Many adults were doing their laundry with water from a communal pump in the middle of the town or preparing lunch of goat innards. I then came to the one and only day care center in Nomzamo where 28 children, ages 1-5, where playing inside entertaining themselves by running around in small spaces. The founder of the program asked if I wanted to read to them or teach them English. We did some color work using some murals that were painted on the walls.
Throughout the day, D.T. and I shared our perspectives on education and students today. He had good parents who expected no less than to spend time in the classroom. He said he had many teachers who helped keep him in school, who gave him strength, encouraging him to dream bigger. Many of his friends were not so fortunate and live a much harder life trying to make ends meet, taking care only of themselves and providing little for their parents and siblings. D.T. said there are many in Nomzamo Park who are unemployed, but even worse, so many who are unemployable. D.T. said he was happy because he has family and is able to provide for them. He is also close to one of his former teachers who helped him become a guide in the the city and continues to mentor him in teaching the history of his community and life lessons. As I shared with D.T. my work with students around the world, he paused and said he wanted to give me the Zulu name Mandla, meaning strength, not only because it was a translation for Andrew, but because I help give my students strength and courage, lifting them up in life and setting them on a path for success. Wow. Tears flowed. It was a happy day in Soweto.
One other take-away from this day is this notion of happiness in a people, a culture that has experienced so much sadness and loss. Most every connection I made with people in South Africa, in the school, airport, hotel, restaurants, in the street, all were smiley, happy people with tremendous laughs and fits of joy that came deep from within and projected outward so the world could hear. Such wonderful smiles. It reminded me of the people in Cambodia and I got to thinking how both nations have suffered so much from brutal regimes in fairly recent years. Yet, not so many years later the people recover and move forward in life. What is that? Is it true happiness? Is there pain and maybe anger buried deep within?
Happiness in some cultures is closely associated with factors other than income and material possessions. D.T. quoted Desmond Tutu, "An eye for an eye leaves the world blind". Focusing on the positive in life and not seeking revenge has left many of his people content.
Things got philosophical pretty quickly as D.T. talked about Ubuntu, the southern African (specifically, Nguni) word for humanness that is often used to encapsulate sub-Saharan moral ideals. Your basic aim in life should be to become a real or genuine person. You should strive to realize your higher, human nature, in a word to exhibit ubuntu. How is one to do that? “Through other persons”, which is shorthand for prizing communal or harmonious relationships with them. For many South Africans, harmony consists of identifying with and exhibiting solidarity towards others, in other words, enjoying a sense of togetherness, cooperating and helping people – out of sympathy and for their own sake. Ultimately life is most joyous, declared D.T. when you are humble.
