Hello everyone!
The month of February got me inspired to talk about walls because of the poetry events organized worldwide for a world without walls. While I didn’t get involved as much as I wanted to for many reasons, this topic has always been one close to my heart. It really hits home. Partly because I am an immigrant by choice myself, of course, but also because of the people in my life and my lifelong interest in social justice movements.
Walls come in different forms, and often are not solid or visible. Some make the headlines, some just don’t. Yet borders are probably the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about walls. It feels like the four walls we have to call home, and that is for the lucky ones who have them, are never enough. The Western world, in particular, seems to need more separation. In this globalized world, it still dreams of enclosures, not for land, for people.
The reasons people cross borders are many; I have a long list myself of pros and cons depending on the country and continent. I would like to briefly dig one out for examination for the sake of this post on walls and the way they separate us. People move because they have experienced life in a country and think somewhere else there could be the possibility of a fresh start. A new beginning, for the migrants and their families.
I would like you to stop for a second in awe of risk taking. We spend a lot of time staring at screens, watching people trying to do things we thought impossible, yet we often miss the courage and daring hope of our neighbors, friends and acquaintances. The people who might live a hard life we don’t envy because we know little about where they came from. Those who might have not found a great life on the other side of the border. Those who are too often silently contributing to make their new home a better place, and become easy targets as members of a minority. I cannot say I am one of them: I belong to a group of wealthier people who have it easy in comparison.
People who make the choice of moving to another country with the hope of changing their lives, especially those who do not have my level of privilege, have my unconditional admiration and support.
When I said walls can be invisible I meant that I didn’t see some of them for a long time, maybe you missed some too. I called myself a citizen of the world. It sounds like hubris now, but I did. It took me years of studying and meeting many people who differed from me, to undo my dangerous way of thinking. I saw myself as a migrant by choice in a world where I was part of a multitude of people moving and exploring. As if we were all the same: different details, same script. No! I was so wrong for so long. Privilege I couldn’t see was my personal barrier, impeding me from seeing how different life would have been without my rights and money. I believe analyzing our level of privilege is essential to understanding others and opening our hearts.
Inequality is the tallest invisible wall we keep ignoring and can’t stop erecting, not even for a second. Our society is like an enclosed space that is built to maintain it the way it is. Except, it is always changing, and we are not going in the right direction. Our world is getting more and more unequal and differences are probably even more staggering than what people envisioned decades ago (Oxfam report). Borders are, from my point of view, an admission that we have created an enormous divide between the richest and the poorest, within countries and between countries. So much so that we need to control the masses, put in some extra barriers to keep the people who are not part of the wealthy club out, or at least relatively poor, overworked, and preferably silent.
This blog is about imagining a bold and transformative future. If you think it is all in vain, consider that a future never imagined or discussed will never magically come about, and that mine is one of the many voices. We are never alone calling out injustice, and we are never alone when imagining a future to build a more just and inclusive society.
Inclusion starts with acknowledging privilege
You cannot walk in someone’s shoes. Although you can use your imagination to try, it will not be the same. What you can definitely do is find the ways the cards were stacked in your favor and be grateful. Is being grateful enough? Of course not! That’s where you start to realize that if one of the tiny little pieces were missing you wouldn’t have achieved much, or it would have taken much more to get there. You will see the effort of others in a much more nuanced light if you do this. Also, when you realize you know nothing about the kind of hurdles people have overcome, you know you have to shut up and listen. Judging people swiftly is a way to dismiss their accomplishments without even listening first.
Here it is. I acknowledge my European, middle-class, and white privilege. I can, if I want to, call myself a citizen of the world, because I received rights at birth that I did not work for or deserve more than other human beings did. I know traveling is considerably easier for me than it is for many others. I know that I am less likely to be considered suspicious, and I am often treated respectfully because of my identity and nationality. I know that being well educated is not as big an achievement, if you have the money it takes. Had I had to deal with discrimination, violence, harassment, bans, sanctions, strict vetting or visa requirements, I would have had a hard time doing what I did. There is an excellent chance I would not be here at all. I would have struggled in a way that is unimaginable to me. I cannot walk in someone else’s shoes.
When I talked about the objects in my life and the things I want to keep, I mentioned how ads make us want what we don’t have by making us feel discontent with what we have. Here we go again. Gratitude has a place here, because if you know what you have and appreciate it, you are more resilient to “ads” that tell you otherwise. When you know you live in a country that is relatively safe, rejoice over that! And remember that inequality and poverty are the forces creating most of the problems. The minorities that are easy to target are not the cause of your struggles, and they surely brought their hopes and issues with them. Exactly the same thing you would do if you moved.
Here is a simple exercise that you can do in a few minutes:
What are the biggest struggles you have faced? Were there any factors that gave you an advantage? Is there anything in your life that makes it easier for you to travel/study/work/develop your skills? In other words, what kind of privilege were you given? Were there any disadvantages that slowed you down or prevented you from achieving your goal? In other words, were there any visible or invisible walls?
Whatever kind of wall you are facing right now, visible or otherwise (there are so many, more on this in the future) I hope you climb it successfully. No matter who you are, regardless of the kind of advantages you might have. I know in my heart I will always be cheering for the outcast, the underdog, the less fortunate by design our society keeps creating.
As lone citizens we cannot destroy walls, only united we can achieve something of that stature, taller than the wall!!!
As citizens on a mistreated planet, we can own our impact. Do something for people in your life who do not have your level of privilege. For me this week it took the form of buying supplies for my students to make placards for a demonstration against violence. They are from Latin American countries the West has grossly exploited, and now its citizens are undervalued and discriminated when they come to Europe.
Small steps are a beginning. Especially for the ones who do not need a new beginning. Take the step. Acknowledge privilege and reach for the hand of someone in your life who is part of a minority of any kind anywhere.
Climb walls! Again and again!
Love,
Dare to b@ld
This is my angry poem on the topic 🙂
Burgundy
I was born in a very civilized society with some primitive shades of blood.
I was born in a middle class rainbow with some inherent backwardness.
I was born with a superpower I knew nothing about for years.
I was born with a level of privilege I knew nothing about for years.
A rectangular burgundy booklet to show at airports and fly,
A rectangular item, burgundy cover, precious gift,
A rectangular confirmation that the world is mine.
A rectangular reassurance that I am from a very civilized society
with some primitive shades of blood.
A gift that is not to be divided, questioned or taken away.
A gift that should never be re-gifted, re-wrapped or re-written.
A gift that cannot heal others’ wounds or mine.
A gift that is a limited-edition version of how products travel.
This is the most used gift I’ve ever received in my life,
for I have decided to uproot the word home
and plant it wherever I feel like,
using the burgundy item as an assurance of… honesty!
This is the gift that allowed me to leave my country,
and call myself citizen of the world as a celebration
of what I can do with my superpower.
Borders blend for me, collapse, bowing for me.
Respect the inherited privilege I carry around
and I could never leave home without it.
Politeness emerges for me, shows its best side
to excuse the rudeness ingrained in the machinery.
Tell me that I did something to deserve this gift, please
tell me the meritocracy I have been sold has not lied again!
Tell me that I deserve a passport to comfort and adventure!
Tell me that I did not deserve to be called “Gringa” in Bolivia!
Tell me I did not cause the hostility of the Aymara!
Tell me I threw enough money at good causes to wash the stains away!
After diligently studying colonization for years,
I finally saw the aggressors and they looked like me.
Tell me my face is not to be traced back to the scenes of the genocides.
Tell me I deserved to be treated like royalty in Uruguay
where I lived like a true local,
in the safest neighborhood of Montevideo.
Explain why I have to prove I am a burgundy holder:
every time I am in my home country and look foreign,
every time I give away otherness I have built myself,
every time I choose to be an outsider,
every time I have no choice but to be one.
Explain why I feel foreign where I was born
and freer far from the pretense of normalcy
far from the middle class complacency
far from the epicenter of the bureaucratic system
that gave the gift.
Close to the struggle of the bottom,
where I cannot reside
where I cannot struggle,
I don’t belong to it.
In its presence I can dream of justice:
not undone by power
not undermined by being born in the wrong place
not censored when it uses harsh words
not soft to power and abuser to the abused
not polite to the right passport
and abusive when the faces of otherness show up,
All the faces that I have collected
traveling with my burgundy passe-partout.
A master key my ancestors did not have
a master key clearly absent from their world.
My ancestors were poor farmers and cobblers.
they stayed even when everyone left,
and fought wars they did not want.
They had no master key to the world:
they only witnessed it.
And as I imagine living in a world
I can never control or say no to,
I see the double-edged superpower
I was given as a right, to be defended
and made exclusive.
Freedom of movement and speech
bring my superpower to the next level.
Dissent is a right we rarely use
for it closes doors passports can open.
Dissent was also given as token of trust,
trust that it would be exercised in moderation.
Trust that it would not be extended, only envied.
I acknowledge my duty
to listen to the stories of the fellow humans
who were not born in a society
so primitive it uses walls and cruelty
as a deterrent for something that is not a crime.
The legally alienated, illegally trafficked
but legally stopped, illegally kept prisoners
but legally foreign, illegally tortured
but legally checked, illegally bombed
by governments that were legally sold weapons
by the very civilized peace-seeking capitalists.
They use our little rectangular superpower as a shield.
Because you were given a gift that cannot be re-gifted, re-wrapped or re-written.
How dare you complain after being given such an exclusive gift?
How dare you question the system that has served you so well?
How dare you want to extend your rights to those on the other side?
Don’t you see that what you have would stop being special the moment
they have it too?
Dissent is a right we rarely use
for it closes doors passports can open.
May my feet lay a path informed by the stories
of those who did not receive my superpower.
Dare to be b@ld 