Why South Africa?
My interest in South Africa stems from my own family history and the opportunity to travel to South Africa last summer. My grandmother and her family moved from Germany to South Africa in 1927, as her father (my great-grandfather) ministered to a German community outside of East London. Her families' complex story continues when she went with her mother and two younger sisters to visit Germany in 1939, with her plan on staying in Germany to begin her university studies and her mother and sisters returning to South Africa. The war broke out, with her mother and sisters unable to return to her father and brothers in South Africa. Her family was split between Germany, Namibia (South-West Africa) and South Africa during the war, forever changing her life trajectory and subsequently my families' life. This unique story is much more complex than I explained, but it is important to have the backstory of my family to understand my intention and motivation to apply for and fortunately receive a Fulbright Scholarship to South Africa.
Growing up, I was fascinated by the World War II, both my grandmother's experience in Berlin as a student and my grandfather's story as an American solider fighting in the Battle of the Bulge, and his meeting of my grandmother. With my interests in World War II and my family story during this tumultuous time, I under-appreciated my grandmother's story and her family in South Africa. Studying world politics at university reignited (or reminded me of) my desire to learn about my grandmothers connection to South Africa. I spent time talking with my grandmother about her family in South Africa, her experience growing up in Frankfort, and looking at pictures from her childhood. With the World Cup 2010 on the horizon, I thought it would be a perfect time to explore my family connection (and a great excuse to go!). Last summer I travelled to South Africa, first visiting my mother's cousins (my great-uncle and great-aunt's son and his family) in Johannesburg and then travelled to Cape Town to visit my great-aunt and great-uncle. From Cape Town, my great-uncle and I drove through the Big and Little Karoo and along the coast to Port Elizabeth, visiting wonderful family friends before I departed. It was a life changing trip and I yearned to return. I felt a connection with my family and an interest in South African culture.
Fulbright Process
As an undergraduate, I became interested in the Fulbright Scholarship, seeing it as a tremendous opportunity to mobilize my skills and passions. Working with two wonderful advisors at Dominican University, the Teach for America partner university where I received my Masters of Teaching, I submitted my application to the university in September. After having my application critiqued by a committee organized by the university, I revised my essay and submitted it to Fulbright. After a long wait, I received notification through email in January that I was a finalist. Interestingly, I was in evening class at Dominican after teaching and could not receive emails in the classroom (it was in the basement). I walked upstairs after class with my roommate and friend, Dan, only to read the news on my phone. Ecstatic, I yelled out and gave him a big bear hug. Little did I know that the anxiety for the next (and last) step in the process would be almost unbearable. From January, finalists are notified any time between February and June, with the finalists' applications being sent to the respective countries for final selection (being a "finalist" means that I was selected by the American-side). Eager to find out, I followed a Fulbright forum with applicants notifying the forum of any communication or information from Fulbright so that I could get a better idea about when I might be notified. Unfortunately, I found out that the Fulbright committee sent out South African notifications two days before I was leaving for Panama City, Panama with friends for spring break. The morning before we left, I called the mail carrier to see if I could possibly meet her and pick up the mail, thinking that the letter was with her. Unfortunately, the letter did not arrive the day I left. To make matters worse, my other roommate was out of town the same time period I was going to be in Panama, so I wouldn't find out until I returned. After a great trip, I called my roommate from Chicago's O'Hare Airport baggage claim, asking him to open the letter for me. He read the first sentences, "We are pleased..." and I yelled out "Yes!" scaring bystanders waiting for their luggage. Finally, the nearly year-long process had come to an end and I was officially a "Fulbright Scholar."
Article and video about the Fulbright process: Dominican Article + Video
From my Statement of Grant Purpose: "In a country trying to stand on its own and often reminded of its difficult past, individuals can make a major difference in shaping society and putting ideas in motion. In South Africa, education is one tool that will help to mend the years of prejudice, discrimination, and segregation. The ETA is more than solely an opportunity to teach; it is an opportunity to be an ambassador abroad, creating a common understanding among myriad people. I would consider it a privilege to mobilize my teaching and group building skills at the university level by helping South African students learn about American culture – both in the classroom and in more casual interaction on campus. My experience working with non-native speakers of English would no doubt serve me well in working with those South African students for whom English is not a first language. Education, not purely academics, is teaching people to live, work, and be willing to put aside past prejudices, which is the ultimate need for South Africans and the goal of the Fulbright ETA."
Final Thoughts
If you managed to read through this long post, congratulations! I wanted to pass along a few quotations and poems that I found powerful:
- Professor Nkhuhlu in the South African National Gallery, Cape Town: “The country as such has no objectives that can be said to be national, no common myths, no common heroes, no war victories to commemorate together and no statues or symbols of joint accomplishment. Instead we have the memory and the scars of the suffering we have inflicted on each other.”
- A fellow Fulbright Scholar sent this powerful poem to me, I think it captures the mood of many Americans (not to get on my "high horse") and is also the inspiration for the title of this blog. Watch him perform the poem (Carlos Andres Gomez Performing "Save Africa"):“SAVE AFRICA (For Bantu Mwaura)” by Carlos Andres GomezBefore leaving for Africa, I keep getting the same response,"Wow... that's exciting,"followed up by the inevitable trio of questions I don't get beforegoing to Brussels or Holland,"So what are you going to be doing over there?Are you going on a safari? Or volunteering?"Volunteering? My time?The money it costs me to fly to Nairobi? The eyeball usage interval required to take in the windswept Serengeti of northwest Tanzania?"Volunteering" what?So that's it, I guess: shooting wild animals for sport, with either a camera or rifle,ortreating people like wild animals for sport, for me to feel good about myselfor to pretend it's for someone elseand feel good about myselfI'm just going, fool - not for a safari or to domissionary work or satiate my humanitarian porn addictionI'm just going to soak my ankles right at sunrise in Lake Tanganyika,watch a fresh crimson seared sun break over Bujumbura like a tidalwave of meteor-singed heatI'm going to freestyle and break-dance at Splash Jam in Orlando West, Soweto to get down with 500 kids like me who worship hip hop and holda revival every first Sunday like it's churchI'm going to ride a bus holding a lantern-eyed, siren-mouthed baby, who just got handed to me by his mom cuz she's breast-feeding his little sister, while the bus driver sips waragi and races a truck driver around blind Mitumba Mountain turns that barely hug the cliffsI'm going to get baptized in the surf and hope I don't clip a Great White, in the ivory-kissed, wave swells off Durban's Golden MileI'm going to fall in love with food again, for the first timefall in love up to my elbows in Lentil Stew soaked-injera, feel my fingers giving birth to uses far bigger and more meaningful than manic button clicking and cold handshakesI'm going to find my body again, crack open my treasure chest torso through the keyhole of my creaky hips, lose those wrinkles I've found in self-conscious scowls on subways, soften my deepening cracks and sand down the chipped paint-unlike most people who look like me, I'm not going thereto try to "SAVE AFRICA," as another ignorant, proselytizing, Leopold-ghostcolonialist,and by the way,it is too massive, too different, too many things all at once to always just call it by one name, so get it right I'm going to Burundi, then I'm going to Rwanda, then Kenya, Tanzania,I'm going to South Africa, Zimbabwe, Egypt, Zambia so maybe I can inhale asmall breath of Africa,so maybe I can drench my eyes in the swollen lives of some of the beautifulpeople of Africa,so maybe I can learn and humbly observe Africaso that maybe one day Africa can helpto save me.
