The first in a series of...

...recollections.

#1

Brief reflection on my experience at the Refugee Studies Centre’s summer school. First of all, I have undergone a profound shift in how I understand the movement of people. I have long been someone who stresses the plight of economic migrants and I often emphasize my (increasingly distant) connection to them as I am personally a product of border crossings and the integrative processes that come with them. The plight of refugees, however, and I mean “real bona fide” refugees, was totally foreign to me. My time in Guatemala, which was a war-torn place for many years, was far removed from their time of conflict. The family I stayed with even more removed, with reliable walls and gates meant to keep out turmoil.

At Oxford, I was faced with the descriptions of realities that conflict brings on people who are unfortunate enough to fall within a given proximity (I suppose real confrontation with realities may have to wait). I learned about their coping strategies, and what is possible/impossible to deliver as an outside agent. I learned more from my peers than the tutoring sessions. I was most struck by the amount of community cohesion possible given a shared commitment to a particular problem and the right degree of professional tact in the process.
I also learned that with enough booze and the right music (Michael Jackson, apparently), 30 odd people from 4 continents will dance together.

I learned that colonialism extends itself into even the most progressive areas of study. Areas of study intended to break down the residual structures, which cause our most distressing problems. When groups of representatives were chosen to present, they were overwhelmingly European or from the United States. Those who chose to spoke up in debates represented the same camp. All of our tutors were white. Of the 25-odd lecturers at the course, 2 were from the “global south”. No time was set aside to discuss this. At the bar immediately following our last day, my friend Jane told me it was not a very good idea to bring it to the table for discussion, without giving me a good reason. I agreed, for reasons that are not totally clear to me.

In our last small group session, 7 of the 10 people in the group cried. My friend Ekraam cried because she had lost a close friend that morning to violence in Iraq. Leila cried for Ekraam, and because she wanted to give voice to the fact that she cannot return to her home in Palestine. I cried for the pain of seeing my friends (who I had known for 3 weeks) cry. I do not know why the rest of the group cried, but I imagine it was for similar reasons. This, again, was in my opinion a product a shared purpose and shared space.

Toward the end of the program, I was told about jobs in Iraq, Sri Lanka, and Panama. I was also told who to contact to get them. I don’t know that I will pursue these opportunities, but the prospect looks increasingly more attractive. I have loved my time with the people I met and have described. My life is different now.

Full of hope and new things,

-k