Prof. Laura Kolb, Baruch College

Category: Blog Posts (Page 1 of 15)

Steps Forward and Steps Backwards

Though today New York symbolizes a place of diversity and acceptance, under English colonial rule in the late 17th century existed a rigid slave system that treated African slaves harshly and strictly. Not only were slaves unable to own property, but they could not even practice their own religion. As Steven Jaffe writes in, “Educating the Enslaved in Colonial New York”, “Many New York slaveholders resisted the idea of baptizing their slaves or teaching them to read the Bible, fearing that Christianity and literacy might embolden their human property to ask for freedom, or even try to seize it through violent rebellion.” However, Elie Neau directly challenged this notion in 1704 when he opened a revolutionary institution that for the next 19 years would teach the enslaved how to be “thinking literate Christians”. Though he wasn’t an abolitionist, his belief that all people had the right to be educated and religious set the foundation for antislavery activism in the future.

As Jaffe writes in, “Leather Aprons & Silk Stockings: The Coming of the American Revolution in New York”, this brutal treatment of slaves and the taxes and regulations on working New Yorkers sparked a sense of rebellion within them. The New York Tea Party on April 22,1774 showed Parliament that New Yorkers were no longer willing to be oppressed. Workingmen known as “leather aprons” and lawyers known as “silk stockings” felt these similar sentiments. Prior to and during the American Revolution, these groups were forced to work together. However, the aristocratic patricians and the laborers who protested in the streets often couldn’t see eye to eye. Nicholas Lampert in, “Visualizing a Partial Revolution” explains this when describing Paul Revere’s publication of, “The most influential Boston Massacre image.” His image did not accurately depict reality because it showed a revolution led by educated and wealthy whites, while in truth it was led by a diverse and multi-cultured mob. Jaffe concludes though that despite it being a violent war with the tensions between the “leather aprons” and the “silk stockings” constantly arising, in 1783 George Washington triumphantly rode into the streets of New York. However, though the victory was shared between both groups of Patriots, “Those divisions would spark future conflicts and future activism in the name of the revolution’s principles of liberty and independence.”

Lampert mentions that farmers and artisans were left out from the Constitutional Congress and were not invited to draft the new Constitution. This was particularly troubling because the absence of the working class meant that if a strong federal government was created, one again they would be oppressed. Liberty Poles were set up and resistance by laborers one again began. Simply put, “The success of the Conservative elites did not defuse class tensions during the War of Independence (1775-1783) or after. If anything, the tensions heightened.”

This is evident when looking at the 3/5 compromise. The decision to count three fifths of the slaves in a state’s population, “would help to elect slaveholding presidents” from 1800 to the 1850s. It is also evident when looking at the U.S. Voting Rights Timeline. In 1776, only landowners could vote, and the majority of landowners were white male Protestants over the age of 21. In 1787, because there was no national standard for voting, white male landowners still controlled voting for the most part. This is why George Washington was elected in 1787 by only 6% of the population. And lastly in 1790, only “free white immigrants” could become naturalized citizens.

Therefore, despite their undeniable success in the mid-18th century, it seems that at this point in history, many New Yorkers must have questioned how much progress they had really made since the days of Elie Neau.

How the Other Half Lives

 

The Jungle by Upton Sinclair may ring a bell to the average New Yorker as the piece of literature that spurred reform in the food and meat industries during the late 1900s; this ‘Jungle’ however is much more different and tests the strength of human perseverance for freedom and identity. The Jungle is a fabricated name for a refugee camp that was located in Calais, France. The population of the refugee camp at its peak was around 8,00 people. The performance that we watched at St. Anne’s warehouse was an enticing performance about how social and political situations affect the way communities function with each other. Throughout the play, there were moments that represented the democracy of human nature, and the need for order as the refugees set up their own communal government based on their cultural and traditional beliefs, but at the same time remained unified in times of distress, despite the differences of languange and culture between them. The play did an excellent job at portraying the real emotional and physical struggles of refugees in France.  Although the play had many captivating moments that left me, and others in the audience on the edge of their seats, it was unfortunate that it took a play to showcase the harsh realities that occur in the world around us. An eyeopening moment for me, or the punctum of the play, as one would say through a Barhtean lens, was the footage shown on the side television screen during moments of the play. One specific video that left me both speechless and grief-stricken was that of a young Syrian boy that was lying on the shore of a beach dead. I had personally seen the picture before on the news, internet, and other mediums of social media but it was different at ‘The Jungle’. The screens were black and then suddenly there was a picture of a young boy face down, Alan Kurdi. Although the picture wasn’t taken in France the silence in the theater, complemented by the gentle caressing of waves around the young boy’s lifeless body let everybody know that this wasn’t just a play but rather a public service announcement of the realities in the lives of refugees.

 

Alan Kurdi, 3 Years of age, Syrian

Alan Kurdi, Shore of Turkey

 

I personally think this part of the performance was the most eye-opening for me because I had seen this picture numerous times over the internet and through news coverage, and when I had first seen it it was just as shocking to see young children the age of three be affected over an international refugee crisis. When I saw the picture at St. Annes, I cried. I think the picture was more moving when I witnessed it at the theater because the producers had presented the image as gifset, or maybe even the original video. Viewing the photo as a motion picture was more moving because you saw life continue around Alan. The waves would hit the top of his head, retreat, then go past his nose, then retreat, then to his chin. Each wave that washed over Alan’s petite body, made witnessing the moment too vivid and the truth about the international refugee crisis too real.

The play does a great job of giving each of the characters from each refugee country a story, and a goal. In the performance, the characters explain that there is the common goal of the “good chance” (which reflected on their luck of making it out of The Jungle) but at the same time directors and writers managed to give each person a post-camp goal. Some wanted to open up restaurants, while others wanted to work with family, or study and gain an education to make a better life for their succeeding generations. This addition of detail in the play allows us as the audience to really understand that the people in the shows represent others who have goals and achievements that they strive for, and the striking difference is what goals each person has. For many people goals, in their life could drinking 8 cups of water everyday, or leading a healthy lifestyle by going to the gym everyday. For the refugees of Calais, their goal of getting out overshadowed any other small feat that we may consider hard to abide by. This resilience shows the true nature of the human spirit when faced with hardships. Towards the end of the performance, as part of the camp was about to get destroyed citizens of Jungal overturned their unanimous decision of peace, for resistance. Resistance, for a cause. The play highlights a great deal about how humans deal with situations together and alone, rather than the situation itself. Often times we take what is around us for granted, The Jungle does a fantastic job at provoking legitimate empathy towards the emotions, situations, and struggles of how the refugees of Calais live on a day to day basis.

Tawalute Mubarak

Well… it was very cold out. Maybe during Ramadan, I remember the neighbors had brought over some rice that day to break our fast.

This seemed as a sufficient response to my grandmother, when my father asked her what his birthday was. During the war, I guess she was more concerned with making it to the next day that she forgot what day it was.

“I have 37 friends with the birthday of January firstproclaimed Ali, the Afghan restaurant owner. My father’s birthday is April 4th. One dash one, four dash four, These are easy dates to remember and countless immigration forms do a good job of imprinting these dates into your memory and identity. The tragedies of the Jungle were familiar to me. All of the Afghans I know have their own horror stories they overcame, in arriving to America. Their struggles may not have been as intense as though who ended up in the Jungle, however a refugee is still a refugee.

Neurula’s delivered his monologue in a setting that enhanced and dramatized the performance. The room was black with a single light source on Neurula, this singular focus gave more weight to his words. He spoke to the English woman about his journey, I believe directing this speech at this 1st world women allowed the crowd to better relate. Us in the audience can not fully grasp the emotional distress and pain these refugees face, no matter how many accounts we hear. Neurula and the women both affirming how unrelatable this story is, is an important part in understanding it.  Neurula’s monologue of his journey to France from Sudan reminds me of the stories of my aunts and uncles. Paying smugglers to bring them from one country to another, the uncertainty of having your life in someone else hands, and how fast the tables can turn in these situations. Neurula considers himself dead, drowned like hundreds of people who died trying to arrive to the same spot as him. It must have been fate or luck that he made it to France, I wondered what luck it was that I wasn’t in the same spot as him.

The Jungle was not an overnight creation. The entirety of first act demonstrated the evolution of the camp. Beginning as huts, ethnic groups moved in one by one, proclaiming each region of the Jungle for them and their countryman. Soon one saw how a barren field transformed into the homes, restaurants, barber shops. Emotions ran high during each new crisis the camp had faced, settling ethnic tensions, learning to build homes, recovering from the fire. Each crisis brought the camp closer and closer together, until they were no longer just refugees they were the United People of the Jungle. Watching the creation of this home from the inside of the afghan restaurant made it all the more striking when it was destroyed. The Bulldozing by the French government returned the Jungle back into the barren waste land that it originated from.

Tawalute Mubarak, Tawalute Mubarak. (Happy birthday, Happy birthday).

We had sung this song on my birthday, just as those in the Jungle had sung to Omar on his. For the first time in my life, I’ve never been so happy to have a birthday.

Playing on My Heartstrings

My eyes dart to the back of the room. The speech of an actor that is clear and center stage, is suddenly blurred as sobs of pain, coming from behind him, apprehended my attention. A line of refugees standing in (almost) silent solidarity behind the individual, painted the big picture. But now taking a closer look, the shaking, sobbing shoulders of a refugee towards the left of the line silenced everything else in the room for me. Time appeared to slow down, as I watched him with immense curiosity and sympathy. There were so many powerful moments that have gone by in the first half of the play, I couldn’t help but wonder: What was it about this very scene that made it a breaking point for him? I lost myself in the moment as I listened and watched intensely; his cries felt pained and uncontrollable as he attempted to hold back, but couldn’t. Tears began to blur my vision and I snap myself out of it. I attempted to convince myself of his skillful acting and dedication to the role, when another refugee came out of line to embrace him.  The startled and deeply saddened looks upon the faces of his fellow cast mates struck me as I realized that this moment was raw and unscripted. It wasn’t premeditated and it wasn’t acting. Was this a refugee? Just another actor? Maybe both? This moment in The Jungle, hasn’t left me in the four days that have since passed, and I’m not sure why.

The four walls around us shook violently, my mouth ajar as the ceiling of the Afghan restaurant slowly rose; beams of light blaring through the windows and from above. I was painfully blinded and slowly drowning in a sea of fear. I listened to the cries and screams of those I had grown attached to: the refugees, the people of The Jungle. The wind blew my hair in different directions and my skin went cold. I watched in horror as a fog of white smoke filled the room, and violent guards in masks stormed the Afghan restaurant I had come to love. My eyes widened in a panic against the bulldozers tearing The Jungle down – my emotions heightened. In that moment, I forgot I was in the audience. In that moment, I stopped being an outsider looking in, and The Jungle became my home, threatened by those destroying it.

In these moments, I was in Calais, I was in France, and I was in The Jungle.

 

The Jungle is Wild

On Wednesday, December 5th at 7:30 pm, I witnessed one of the most dramatic and moving performances I have ever seen. I don’t know if it was from the way the stage was right in the audience’s face, so you could see the acting up close and personal. I don’t know if it was because it was in an old factory building in my hometown borough of Brooklyn. It might have even been because the stage and setting included real video recordings, moving ceilings, and props that caused you to jump out of your seat. No, the most moving part of the entire performance was the determination that the different countries in the camp had to keep on living, and how the French government pushed them out regardless.

When Sam first read them the government’s eviction notice, and how they would need to relocate an entire half of the camp. 800 homes. Over 2,000 people had to uproot their lives and move to the other side of the camp and live uncomfortably with others way too close for comfort. They basically lived on top of each other and were unable to properly relieve themselves. Still, they were able to uproot their lives in just three days. They were able to conform to the government’s requests and not six weeks later, they were not only evicted again, but forcibly removed.

This was extremely moving to me not only because the actors were extremely convincing, but because of the way the entire play was formulated. They play included so many different emotionally capturing moments. For example, they included actual footage from the events in 2016 such as a baby dead on a beach shore, or news coverage of what was happening in the camp. The use of actual footage strengthened how far the refugees had come to freedom and how willing they were to listen to the French government. As well as the stories told by different refugees such as Okult about how they were tortured by the police officers, but still they persevered and tried to get into the U.K. All of these stories and footage and “in your face” acting built up my feelings for each of the characters. And after all they did, after making it as far as the refugee camp, after relocating half of the camp so that the government would not evict them, they still were targeted and evicted. Their stories were so memorable and the fact that this was an actual event that took place and is still taking place, is the reason why I remembered this part the most.

Oasis Teases

Even though I had only seen a part of the second act of The Jungle, the show took me to another dimension — I was there. It didn’t seem to me like a normal play, or a show, where you’re separate from the actors and the script. When the entire theatre violently channeled energy in the midst of gunfire, trauma, arguing, and chaos, my body’s primal instinct told me that I also had to make a decision along with all of the characters who were acting in the show.

Watching a movie, reading a book, or even watching live news does not at all encompass what happens outside the corporation we call the United States of America. As a matter of fact, we practically don’t know anything besides the garbage that’s forced down into the depths our subconscious programming, until we dismiss the rest of the world as irrelevant to our comfortable lives. The Jungle forced me to see an accurately represented image of abandonment, violation of unalienable human rights, violence, desperation, fear, worry, sickness, war, and the substantial father of it all — greed.

You are walking alone in the scorching desert of hell for eternity. A few miles in front of you, you can barely make out a tropical oasis: heaven. Only, every inch you near paradise, paradise inches just that much away from you. Can you imagine? This is what these refugees in Calais, France probably went through. Just on the other side of their camp, right across a body of water, there was apparently the sight of the UK: their paradise. Yet, every time the group got closer and closer to arriving where the grass just might be greener, heaven inches away with threats from government, fear of losing everything, and the worry for children, family, a safe future, and most powerfully, life. To mention that ships and boats traveling on that waterway knew about their situation and sailed smoothly through daily commerce is besides the point.

For a police force to threaten to destroy such a camp — which hosted thousands of refugees from turmoil in the Middle East — under the will of a few at the head of government truly demonstrates how misinformed we are about our family, the rest of the world: humanity. I give the utmost grace to the cast that made that show happen; and unfortunately, I had to leave early, but for the time that I was sitting down, I truly understood not only the suffering and fear of the people in that camp who went through the horrors of war and greed, but also all the people who we don’t hear about: the ones who aren’t reported on mainstream news channels; and I’m sure the ratio of the exposed to the ratio of the hidden is less to more, respectively.

The Jungle: a depiction of the microcosm, while the bigger jungle — or as I like to call it: the matrix — that encompasses most of the planet: the macrocosm.

To help ourselves is to help the world, and humanity as a whole understood this up until the last several thousand years.

My question: what happened?

Greater is the HOPE that keeps us alive!

The Jungle, a show we as a class had the pleasure of watching on Wednesday night at the St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn, tells the story of a refugee camp in Calais, France that housed of thousands of people fleeing from countries in Africa and the Middle East as they waited for their “good chance” shot to flee to Britain for asylum. As we explore the lives of the characters and learn more about where they come from and how they ended up at The Jungle, the audience is able to sympathize with the people living there, and simultaneously educate themselves on the current refugee crisis.

The most striking part of the show was by far the monologue that the boy from Sudan had during his conversation with Beth. Beth, a white woman from Britain, continuously tells this young man that she understands him and where he’s coming from. Frustrated, he takes his shirt off and the audience sees a number of thick lash marks across his chocolate skin. Then, he begins telling her his story in detail. One day when he was fleeing Sudan on a bus with his mother, the bus was stopped by government officers telling them all to evacuate the bus. Thereafter, all the men and women were separated and were ordered to line up. The officers had guns held to the men’s heads while they watched all the women they cared about be burned alive. Before this happened, in case something of this nature ever did happen, his mother gave him $40 to retreat on a boat with his “uncle” to go to a safer place. Since he was considered to be poor, he and his uncle were placed underneath the deck with many other people. Packed tight like sardines, it was difficult to move. Since the boat was so packed, when water started to flood in from holes in the walls, they all began to drown and had to fight for their lives, once again. The entire time he was telling this story to Beth, members of the cast joined him in a line looking directly at her, as if this was their story too. The part that broke my heart was when some cast members were actually weeping as if they were the refugees themselves.

Beth represented many of the audience members in the crowd. White women who were privileged and had no idea what it was like to be discriminated against or displaced from your home/country of origin. In fact, the “Beth’s” of the crowd were the main ones crying throughout the show. For some reason this angered me. Considering the stereotypical profile of the people who come to see shows like this, I would assume that most of them were Republicans and voted for a president who is reinforcing many of the same polices that go against human rights right here in America, i.e. Immigrant internment camps and the building of this border wall.

“Everybody is running away from something. We’re all refugees. The name of the game is, “What are you running from?”” This quote from the show is what stuck with me the most. Oftentimes, we as a society tend to look the other way when we see detrimental and catastrophic things happening to other people in the world, and yet, many of these things are happening right here on American soil. Yes these events happened in Europe but it is still our problem and still something we should be concerned with. I was very disgusted to learn that the demolition of this camp by the French government happened less than three years ago and I have never heard of it. When the bombings happened in Paris in 2015, I was aware but I was surprised to learn that The Jungle was directly affected, but not in the way you would think. In one of the bombing sites, a fake Syrian passport was planted and recovered. The same day of the attacks, there was an accidental fire at the camps, and subsequently, the French government tried to link this to the bombings at the camps. The government claims that the refugees disguised themselves and came to Paris as terrorists, but this wasn’t the case. As a result, they decided to demolish the camps, and bring an end to The Jungle.

The Jungle was a performance unlike anything I had ever seen or experienced before. The acting was impeccable, the stage and setting made me feel like I was in the main restaurant of The Jungle, and the story was authentic and true to life. Even though Wednesday was a very long day for me, packed with a presentation, a final, and an exam, I am now very glad I went. This was my favorite outing of the semester.

Learning in the Jungle

This past Wednesday, December 5, 2018, our IDC class traveled to St. Ann’s Warehouse in Dumbo, Brooklyn to see the play named “The Jungle.” Based on the true events of the refugee crisis in Calais, France, “The Jungle” depicts the story of how a bunch of refugees with different backgrounds and cultures build an entire city from merely nothing and learn how to unite and live together. Never being exposed to a play before, I was unsure what to expect from this performance. I thought that it was going to be a lot of singing, like the operas we have seen. However, when I walked into St. Ann’s Warehouse, I immediately felt and saw the difference. From the casual audience to the jungle like setting, this immediately felt like a more informal event that a student could relate to. As I looked around the building, I saw what appeared to be some construction or renovations they were doing at St Ann’s Warehouse,  however, I later found out that this was done intentionally to bring the audience into Calais. From this work, I could tell that the staff had put a lot of time and effort into making the experience as realistic as possible. I was shocked to find out that the whole building was transformed into a jungle like scenery, and decided that I might actually enjoy the performance.

Although many scenes from this play were striking, the scene that was particularly moving for me was the school scene, where Beth, the school teacher, was trying to teach English to Norullah through storytelling. She was allowing Norullah to make up the story and kept emphasizing that he repeats the story to better learn English. This was meaningful to me because I felt like not many people would be willing to help these refugees, but Beth truly believed that these refugees would be able to learn english. The refugee camp in Calais was built as a temporary place living space in hopes that they would one day be granted asylum in the U.K. For this reason, it was necessary for them to learn english, and Beth was the one who believed they can learn and make it to the U.K.

Although this past Wednesday night was definitely a long one, it was definitely worth while. Being a late night event, on the longest school days of my week, I was unsure if I was going to like the play, or even be able to stay awake for the whole performance. After being teased by my siblings about having to stay out late on a weekday, I explained to them that they were the ones who missed out and strongly urged them all to give it a shot. I am glad I got to experience something so unique and moving and hopefully this play brings this atrocity to the attention of many others.

Lost in the Jungle

Watching The Jungle that night on December 5th was probably one of the rawest and emotionally charged things I’ve ever experienced.  I knew as soon as I walked into that set, sitting down at one of the tables, that things were about to become very real and very personal.  One of the actors was walking around and pouring tea for guests, and he was totally in character.  As he came before me, he greeted me and asked how I was in Arabic.  I’ve always been one to immediately leap at the chance to connect with another person who shares my heritage, so I shyly told him I was fine with what little Arabic I know.  I remember feeling so happy as he smiled and had a short conversation with me in English about where me and my parents were from.  From then on, I felt like I was a part of something much bigger than myself, and I was about to witness it in the form of a play.

There were many moments, scenes, or speeches in the play that took my breath away and left me reeling, but one of the most striking was the image of Alan Kurdi being shown on the televisions in the room.  It was dead silent as I and the rest of the audience solemnly studied the image of a little boy, unmoving, gently being caressed by the tide on the beaches of Turkey.  I remember seeing that image back in 2015 and crying my eyes out.  Even now, the blurriness in my eyes comes back as I think of Alan, who should still be alive.  Alan’s life was already jeopardized by the war in Syria; if anything, he should have made it to Europe.  I think of Alan and think of all the children all over the world who suffer things just like this.  We failed him.  Our governments failed him.

When Norullah fired that gunshot I jumped so badly I lost focused for a second.  The light, the smoke, the sound – it felt all too real.  I almost thought an actual bullet at been lodged in the ceiling.  And later, when the French police were ‘demolishing’ the restaurant and lifting the roof off, I felt as if I were experiencing so many different sensations and emotions and thoughts that I felt overwhelmed.  It gives me goosebumps to remember that people hear and go through things like that everyday, and that’s become a way of life.  That’s what Alan was trying to escape from.  And there, in the Jungle of Calais, that’s what they were all trying to escape from.  They were all united by their common traumas and their desperation for something better.  They were united by their desire to create a home away from the one they left.

I was devastated that the play ended on such a somber note.  It wasn’t a happy ending by any definition of the phrase.  I can only hope that productions like the play help bring the plight of refugees and migrants to the center of attention to people living in relative peace all over the world.  And if it makes people uncomfortable?That means it’s doing something right.

Exploring The Jungle

Wednesday December 5, 2018 is a night I will never forget. After almost getting frostbite while standing outside St. Anne’s Warehouse for the better part of an hour, I was finally allowed inside to experience the magic of The Jungle. Before I even had an opportunity to experience the play itself, the elaborate decoration in the theater really made me feel like I was in a refugee camp (although that was never something I thought I’d experience). When the second act began I was very confused. The short synopsis I received from one of my classmates wasn’t enough to bring me up to speed, however after watching for a little while I understood what the play was about.

The most striking scene for me was when Sam reads the notice to the refugees in the camp that the government is evicting them from a big part of their camp. There’s a lot of panic and yelling and Sam, a volunteer in the refugee camp, tries to calm them down. Sam very strongly urges his fellow volunteers and members of the camp that the best solution is to relocate the part of the camp that is being evicted. Some leaders of the groups of refugees think that a better course of action is to hold their ground. Sam yells and screams so that his voice is heard (which happens a lot in this play) and finally he even cries and pleads with everyone to relocate so that no lives are lost. Ultimately the decision is made that the evicted side of the camp will relocate but the restaurant will stay.

This scene was the most moving to me because the audience got a chance to see how insanely dedicated the volunteers of the refugee camp were. They treated the lives of the refugees as if it were their own. Every decision was made with the utmost concern for the refugees. It seems like the volunteers were the only ones of the refugees side. Sam’s character in particular really touched me because he was a doer. He is willing to move the camp on his own if that’s what it came to. As someone who has a passion for volunteering for many different divisions of my local charity, Sam stands as an inspiration to me. From him I learn what it means to empathize with the people that I help, and even more than that to truly put myself in their shoes. Despite the chaos he is able to think with a clear head, which is an essential quality in volunteer. His selflessness embodies what it means to be a true hearted volunteer.

« Older posts