I watched a documentary earlier about the negative picture the media paints of young people in the UK. It’s a really interesting investigation into facts about how young people are percieved, the general public believe that young people are responsible for 80% of crimes commited in the UK when infact the figure is more like 12%. Having first hand experience of working with young people in communities that are labeled troubled, I cant help but get disolutioned by the way young people are percieved, but then again within the cycle, they do look threatening. I never really feel intimitated by large groups of “hoodies” because I think that if you dont provoke them, they arent going to be bothered by you. Im scared of dogs though, their unpredictable nature means I just don’t trust them. I can see why other members of the community are scared of groups of young people and on the estate Im working on at the moment, it seems a particular issue. But working with individuals and getting to know each other, to trust each other, I feel like all these young people want is to have their voices heard. Some of the young people are on probation, but they still run out of workshops to go get the shopping in for their mums. They are all really sweet, innocent guys, but they are trying to be hard, and its working!

One of the things I notice most about working with hard to reach young people is their over whelming drive to be bad at things. You could have one kid who is so smart and engaged in a workshop but as soon as a few more people come along, they will play dumb. why is this and what role has society played in making this the case? Was that always there?

Anyway the film looks at ways to break down the barriers between young people and the older generation. Something that I have been considering a lot lately. Its the only way I can see of making any significant move forward. Older people have been younger people, some of them may have been involved in violence in the past and I think it is important within the community arts world to facilitate conversations between younger and older people.

Check out the film on 4oD [here]

Fair Trade at Grass Roots

The following is an account of my own experience of a visit to The Association of Craft Producers, Nepal in April 2009

There are times when a person must see something in order to truly act upon it. Having travelled alongside decaying carcasses, abided with a corrupt road system and descending a beast defended drive way, I arrived at the Association of Craft Producers Nepal. In this haven we were greeted by Meera Bhattarai the executive director, and the drive behind the company with a compelling background in Social studies. She told us a brief history of the company, founded in 1984 through a determination to provide women with a platform to support themselves and their family in conditions unknown previously in Nepal. Originally employing 38 producers and 5 management staff the company escalated through successful fair trade to 1200 producers and 60 management staff. Producers are employed within various sectors of the craft industry, including textiles, ceramics, wood work etc. Producers mostly work from home within a system original to ACP. Raw materials are sourced locally if possible or from India and held in the factory. Here they are sorted, dyed and prepared for production. From here they are collected by producers and compiled into products. 70% of these products are exported into the world market, predominantly America, and 30% are sold within Nepal, Meera tells us of the effect of recession on sales.

With a particular interest in the sourcing of raw materials I ask Meera about how she initiated links between source and producer. I was disheartened to discover that all their cotton was imported from India and their wool from New Zealand. These links, she explained, were gained through the IFAT association. I wondered had they considered the use of organic cotton locally grown within Nepal. She enthusiastically answered that this was the next step and a plan had been initiated to grow organic cotton within Nepal. Having previously dealt with falsely advertised organic cotton, Meera stated that one of the most important aspects of the company was to keep it home grown.

On touring the factory it was clear the skill level of the producers was astounding. And their conditions were impeccable. The products were comprehensive as a collection, but it was clear they needed updating.

One of the most inspiring aspects of this company is its respect for its workers. The programme director Revita Shrestha talked us through some of ACP’s benefits. Revita joined the company 11 years ago, having completed a degree in law and sociology. Revita’s job involves the constant assessment of the producers satisfaction. I ask if the company provides accommodation for its producers, she tells us that the pay covers the rent or household expenses. 50% of ACP workers live in rented accommodation. Included in the wage is festive allowance, with includes paid leave during the festival season. This also includes a rare case of maternity leave, 90 days paid, and paternity leave, 15 days. Revita explains this is rare in other non fair trade organisations other than government run jobs. One of the most successful initiatives run exclusively by ACP is its education programme. Through an application process each producer can apply for a child’s education scholarship. The applicants are fairly judged on their commitment to the company, i.e. how punctual they are with orders, time commitment and quality of produce, and how long they have worked for ACP. 40 children are chosen and put into schools for 3 years, it was decided that the child must be a girl. This initiative encourages families to send not only boys to school, and so their influence on empowering the woman in Nepal continues through generations. ACP also provide a pension service, this is built up through the years a producer works for the company, and is released to them at the end of their service, in order to maintain the family after the woman has seized earning. Various other systems were installed to maintain a balance within fair trade, for example a lunch party is organised once a year and health camps are performed 2 / 3 times a year in various towns, seminars on health issues are organised repeatedly through the year also, in an attempt to prevent the spread of disease. These benefits appear more worthy than the actual pay. Working 8 hours a day from 9.30 to 5.30 will see themselves and their families through day to day, but these benefits will see them into the future, and will continue through generations.

Those producers working from home receive the same benefits. On visiting the a selection of weavers in a small town called Kirtipur, I was reassured of the contempt nature of production. This sector of ACP is run by a lady called Laxmi. Her mother had originally set up the organisation and Laxmi herself had gone to university. On finishing her course she decided to take over her mothers practice having realised how imperative it was for women’s progression in society. In one house we met Keshari and Jugal Krishna, a husband and wife preparing a warp for the next stage of production. Though the work was monotonous, they worked together seamlessly with occasional infantile giggles.

Another weaver worked 5 hours a day in the hall way of her home. Here she appears the most comfortable as her family pass her constantly and she can keep her motherly eye over them. She loudly calls to her child upstairs who refuses to come down to her. It all seemed very normal, why would you not do this? Her speed and agility was unparallel and the huge roll of plain weave cotton was flawless. Our guide tells us of the language barrier between these women and town folk and herself, they have lived in this small community for so long they developed their own habits within a language that it is now differentiated from the original language.

After production is complete, all products are sent back the ACP factory in Kathmandu, at which point the worker is paid for their time and skills. Each product is finished, quality assured and put into the outlet store in Kathmandu for sales marketing. This store is appropriately named Dhukuti- Craft With Elegance and Beauty. Dhukuti translates to ‘Treasure Room’ and they were not wrong to call it so. The shop is bursting with nooks and crannies to search for gems. The four stories ooze with felt shoes, hand woven fabrics, ceramic elephants and an unimaginable quantity of quality goods.

When we see human rights injustice done to others a universal characteristic is that our response seems to be instantaneous. Whether it is a sudden call to stand up for change or a passionate anger or an immediate passivity, and therefore denial, the way we view and react to human rights injustice is a fundamental part of my research into education for global citizenship. My direct response, and that of many others, is to put a familiar face on the victims. We imagine what would happen if we saw our own sisters or daughters being abused or mutilated at the hands of another soul, we would be devastated. We would feel hard done by, suffering injustice. When we do open our eyes in the light of a documentary for example, our initial response, or one I feel that could be encouraged through dialogue, is “imagine that was me. Imagine that happening to me”. This is something I have come across in conversation with many people since I began looking at social justice issues.

There are on the other hand people I have spoken to, including very close friends, who say ‘so what?’ and suggest that as its not happening to them or anyone they know why should they care. When asked to imagine if it happened to me, their close friend, how would they feel, they instantly get riled up and suggest extreme measures they are unlikely to follow through with. I would like to argue that either response could be harnessed through dialogical education and this will form a central thread to my writing. Here I am suggesting that communities might be encouraged to act against injustices in a global society by being placed in learning situations that enable them to empathise with those suffering.

My initial research into ways of encouraging global citizenship has combined looking at the work of theorists such as Paulo Freire and his ideas of critical dialogue with the psychologist Mark Levine’s investigation into the role identity plays within our decisions to help others. Freire brings together education and identity through the theory of critical dialogue. He states, “When two ‘poles’ of the dialogue are thus linked by love, hope and mutual trust, they can join in a critical search for something. Only dialogue truly communicates”[2]. I take inspiration from this as I consider the formation of mutual trust and hope to be gained through some form of common identity, which he suggests is the seminal aspect of critical dialogue. This links to Levine’s hypothesis that suggests “shared social identity provides a basis for shared expectations (e.g., as to what level and form of support is appropriate and reasonable) and shared emotion (i.e., empathy), as well as for mutual trust and respect.”[3]

In Maslow’s hierarchy of needs theory he suggests that there is a point on the scale where individuals need to find safety and security, this can be achieved through employment, for example. Due to aspects of my identity as a young female, I at one point in my life probably had similar dreams to those women who have been trafficked. The young women in Mimi Chakarova’s film The Price of Sex[4], for example, all talk about the need for work and safety being the reason they were vulnerable to trafficking. In my current situation, I may be able to identify with their needs, although I appreciate that my cultural background and awareness of trafficking place me in a position where I am less vulnerable to the latter. It is at this point our lives and subsequent identities take separate paths in relation to Maslow’s theory. I have been able to achieve and develop family relations, sexual intimacy, self-esteem and respect for and from others[5] without disruption. My sympathies are especially directed towards women because feeling vulnerable is part of my life as a young woman living in central London.

What do I mean by human rights injustice? When I refer to human rights injustice I am referring to all forms of violation at the hands of individuals and communities against undeserving victims.

A large portion of my personal research has been into the effects of female genital mutilation, human trafficking and women’s rights. The first time I truly engaged with and identified with women was at a fair trade organisation’s production house in Nepal. I met women who had been rescued from domestic violence and immanent poverty who now were paid an honourable wage, were able to provide medical resources for themselves and their families and whose dignity had been restored through independence. This search for independence is something I can relate to. In response to this experience I created an exhibition highlighting the need for these organisations and encouraging people to support them. Since then I have watched and produced documentaries and art films on these issues, and attended screenings where I met filmmakers who have had direct contact with injustice and young people featured in the films. I try to keep myself up to date on current issues by reading world development news daily and have interviewed and worked for organisations promoting human rights and social justice. This is, however, a relatively recent aspect of my life and work and I intend to deepen this research throughout my writing and work beyond studies in community arts education.

This theoretical study and consideration of personal experiences underpin research into the use of film as a tool for storytelling and education. Films such as ‘War School’ visually put a recognisable face on injustice in the form of child soldiers being ‘raised’ in the UK.  Film and digital media form the backbone to the text as my focus is on interactive dialogue and cultural exchange. People who need their voices to be heard can shout aloud through participatory filmmaking, which I consider to be a form of citizen journalism, which is in turn what I class as a knowledge resource. The concept of creating a more complete image of the world through a variety of knowledge resources, taking into account all agendas rather than striving for an agenda-less portrayal, I believe, could lead to a more thorough, enriched way of seeing the world. A primary investigation into the work of the British Institute of Human Rights, UnSeen(UK) and various other organisations, uncovers the power and importance of art, film and storytelling in education about human rights injustice at the highest level of intervention.

One of the ways in which artists can contribute to this is through artistic and creative interventions to encourage storytelling, beyond the standard interviewer – interviewee documentary style communication. By utilising the knowledge resources alongside participatory filmmaking, craft activities, visual and performance art, music production and any other art form, artists have the power to facilitate a conversation of critical dialogue. As an artist I have subconsciously and continually been evaluating my identity. I was only very recently given the privilege of critically understanding myself in relation to others by visually representing my identity inside a box, guided by an art lecturer. The self-creation of the box gave me an opportunity to tell my story. These women in Chakarova’s film were given the opportunity to tell their stories through audiovisual media, and because they did so, I was able to relate to them and therefore was encouraged to stand up for change. So storytelling is an essential part in the process of establishing and communicating identity and because of its dialogical nature it has the potential to form one side of a critical conversation with its audience. I will later consider ways in which the audience can critically respond through participatory filmmaking.

Essentially my argument regarding education for global citizenship is about empowering people through the combination of participatory art and storytelling to establish and communicate identity as opposed to shocking participants into change. From my experience art films, documentary and photography include shocking material such as the circumcision scene in Kim Longinotto’s The Day I Will Never Forget in order to strike a nerve with audiences. In relation to this Maslow suggests,

“It would seem that a large proportion of our population responds with attention only to threatening experiences. It is as if attention were to be regarded only as a response to danger and as a warning of the necessity for an emergency response. These people brush aside experiences that are non threatening and not dangerous, as therefore not being worthy of attention or any other response, cognitive or emotional.”[6]

Throughout following posts I will investigate the ways in which it might be possible to go beyond the shock techniques for shifting people’s views on the world in order to create a critical dialogue between audiences, artists and those desperate to tell their stories for change. I have been inspired by Speeches that Changed the World, in which world leaders encourage solidarity and ‘brotherhood’ – whether for eventual greater good or not. The language used to instil pride of past, present and future in audiences has formed an integral part of my fascination with the power of storytelling for change.

For example, one might ask oneself, why I, as a young white, Irish woman cry tears of pride during a black president’s electoral speech? I couldn’t help but think of Kunta Kinte and Chicken George, characters from Roots, a TV series from the Seventies about black slavery. Perhaps it is because I grew up with their stories, fictional representations of true events. I gained a thorough understanding of the issues by seeing inside their houses, watching them collapse in agony of the injustice of rape and violence and watching babies turn into mothers with the perspective of generations. Modern slavery traps more people today than in the entire 400 years of the transatlantic slave trade[7] and yet our detached and fast pace way of life is almost designed to blind us to the issues.

The BBC’s series Taken exposes the lives of young people trafficked into the United Kingdom (UK). It is innovative in its approach. Pierre Morel’s Film Taken brings the agony of the families and victims of slave trade to the big screen and immerses us, involuntarily, in the sounds, sights and almost the smell of this horrific industry. Other TV documentaries inject these issues into our homes but what are the ideal responses from the general pubic? An interview with Kim Longinotto, a documentary filmmaker for the BBC and Channel 4, exposes the real aims, of shifting the mindset of the viewer, and how these are achieved. Longinotto also provides some interesting perspectives on how to further these responses through modern technology and the relatively new methods for critical dialogue.

Time spent to reflect on identity forms the next stage of research regarding spirituality and the use of ritual in education. I have explored the work of the Sisters of Mercy and although their entire focus on spirituality is not something I agree with, there are elements that I believe to be integral in becoming a global citizen. Hakan Altinay suggests “doing unto others what we would have them do to us remains the most resilient benchmark for decent conduct in human history.”[8] This moral is prevalent in the Christian religion and although I no longer practice religion, the Church was where I learnt these forms of decent conduct. Where will the next generation learn these morals? The writings of Gandhi show us how spirituality has a power to strike a nerve with individuals. He invokes the values of vasudheva kutumbakam, that the whole world is one family.[9] And I believe that this idea, if underpinned with theory and fact, can have the power to shift the mindset of those who are citizens of the world but are not yet global citizens.

“… We will be able to transform the dangling discourse of our nation, into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood … We will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up to freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning.”[10]

I agree with most of what is said in this short film, a lot of the research I have conducted in the past relates directly to giving communities and individuals a voice. One of the suggestions in the film is to ensure everyone in the world has access to mobile phones, etc. This instantly makes me wonder if they have stopped to consider the devastating global impact this would have on one certain community, those mining the metals needed to produce mobile phones in Democratic Republic of Congo. I talk a lot about the conflicts in global development. This is a prime example. I’d like to think a more localised approach to ‘voice’, through traditional arts, photography and film would be more effective and is less likely to fuel a corrupt system. Of course, I say all this from behind my mac book pro. But honestly, I’m trying my best to think of these issues from various view points.

Sometimes I forget!

The ability to raise awareness is one of the aspects to Documentary filmmaking that I find the most attractive. Often the subject matter is something we’d rather put to the back of our minds and ignore, when it takes immense courage to address it and aim for change.  This is the kind of journalism I have time for, usually thrown into the mix is a message of hope. Why does News always seem to be bad news?

“The Altruist” a film by Camille Hardman exposes the story of street children in Cambodia, their fight against pedophilia, their fight for survival. John McGinley travelled to Cambodia on vacation in 2003. While there he witnessed a disturbing incident involving a pedophile and a street child under the age of twelve, an experience that would change his life forever. In response to this he formed an organization called M’Lop Tapang with members of the community, dedicated to protecting street children. To be honest I’ve heard similar stories before, but this goes one step further by injecting the story into our screens, and into our lives, worldwide!

Raw imagery that speaks for itself, some powerful animation and cold, hard facts… it’s documentary at its purest!

well the trailer says it much better than I ever could, watch it HERE

Anyway, Good night Rough Mix, see you soon!