Language is a challenge to peacebuilding projects and cross-cultural dialogue. It just is. And most often English becomes the lingua franca of the programs, clearly advantaging those of us native speakers. I worked last summer at Project Common Bond, detailed more fully in the post below. The program brings together youth from around the world who have the "common bond" of having lost a family member to an act of terror. They come to the camp to meet other youth from countries as far away from each other as Sri Lanka, Russia, Argentina, and Morocco, among others, to process what they've been through with others who can relate, and to imagine together and work towards a better future. The camp's activities all run in English and most of the counselors and staff are American, however some of the youth have only a basic knowledge of English and rely on chaperone-translators to participate in the more verbal activities.
This year, our amazing dance instructor, Marcia, led the group in participating in a Project Common Bond flash mob (see video at right). All 120+ of us practiced the choreography for day to "Twist and Shout", "Call Me Maybe" and other pop songs. For some, this was great fun, and for others, not as used to shaking their hips, the practices were torture. But everyone did it, and it culminated in a flash mob performance on a hot summer day in Boston with onlookers clapping and taking pictures.
But the truly amazing thing is the large impact it had on the group. This was only my second summer working on the program, but others shared the same observation: This group was a dancing group and they did it all together.
Free time dance party
Every evening during free time, the counselors would set out board games, arts & crafts areas, a foosball table... and turn on the stereo. Without fail, every night turned into the craziest, most fun dance party you've ever seen--with Irish youth teaching Irish line dances and some "Rock the Boat" dance I'm told is done at weddings, conga lines erupting spontaneously, Russian dance classes, and one of our young men from Sri Lanka inevitably finding his way onto a table and creating a makeshift microphone from a salt shaker or whatever he could find. And everyone danced--youth, staff, the whole group.
Marcia told me she thinks of dance as a language, and that in teaching dance, you're teaching a group how to speak to each other through movement. I think she's right. It's not that dance itself is one common language and in fact I saw at PCB the distinct differences between Nigerian and Ossetian dance and between Kandian (region of Sri Lanka) and Palestinian dance. But through the use of dance in practicing for the flash mob, these young people were all learning a set of common phrases, from "the twist" to the moves we learned set to "Peace, Unity, Love... and Havin' Fun". When free time set in and the music was on, they all had a basic vocabulary that got them moving. And from there, it took off. The language gap had been bridged for the group.
PCB handmade puzzles
Beyond the dance, this group was cohesive and really came together as one, trusting each other and opening up, making true connections across national and linguistic boundaries. There were many other crucial factors, from the Dignity Model workshops we led in the mornings, and the Peace In Action sessions, to the incredible drama, arts, sports, music and dance classes after lunch. There was the great care taken by the lead staff, who had put months of meticulous planning into the camp, and the genuine care shown by all of the counselors and other support staff. But I can't help but wonder whether the common language of the flash mob might have been that final magic ingredient to pull it all together, like that extra pinch of salt in a marinara sauce moving it from delicious to the best ever.
Peacebuilding and intercultural programs should never underestimate the power of the arts, and movement in particular, as a major catalyst, enabling real breakthroughs and real change. Sign me up for the flash mob next year.
I've recently been inspired by my work with a summer camp called Project Common Bond for youth who have lost a family member to an act of terrorism or political violence. Youth come together from all over the world and both connect with one another, healing from their losses and are empowered to imagine and work towards a different reality where these acts of violence do not exist. I was incredibly impressed with these young people who had endured the most heinous of travesties--the loss of a loved one and consequently a loss of safety, security and stability. Some had even been the recipients or witnesses of direct violence. And yet, I saw youth from Pakistan, Nigeria, Northern Ireland, Sri Lanka, and the United States among others think creatively together about what they can do to work towards a new reality. I think sometimes what is needed, in addition to role models, is to simply turn it back to the youth and ask "what do you think?" and "what can you do?" since all too often youth voices are marginalized. Instead, we can encourage youth to think about their own power and possibility.
One American 14-year-old related to our group the story of when her teacher had told the class that all Arabs and Muslims were evil and that Islam was a religion of hate. The young woman expressed her frustration at her perceived inability to do anything, recognizing the power dynamics and the fact that this teacher had the ability to fail her in the class. As a group, we brainstormed her options and she outlined steps she could take both in future situations and the conversation she could have with this teacher now that the woman no longer holds the same power over her. One thing this amazing young woman said to me stood out: "You would think that we of anyone [families who lost loved ones in 9/11] would hate, but we don't. We recognize that all people in a group or a religion are not represented by the actions of a few extremists. How could my teacher say that?"
The motto of Project Common Bond is "Let Our Past Change the Future" and I'm a little more confident now that it will...
