DukeEngage | Duke Center for Civic Engagement

    On Thursday, we had the opportunity to meet with famed photographer and filmmaker Paul Weinberg. With sheer dynamism, Paul delivered enthralling stories of his experience documenting the horrors of apartheid. He also shared with us his views on South Africa, calling it a “factory of humanity.” Here, he declared, exists a microcosm of the world and its issues; those who study this complex nation are that much closer to understanding imminent global challenges. This is a powerful statement that truly resonates with me, as I attempt to come to terms with my South African experience.

    Writing this blog entry, I am situated at quaint café nestled into a gorgeous Mediterranean-style neighborhood. Yet I am also sitting in the midst of an area ravaged by HIV/AIDS. Among a people suffering the consequences of extensive political corruption and faltering leadership. Just miles from “informal settlements,” a euphemistic term for some of the most intense poverty imaginable. How am I to reconcile this dichotomy? How am I to feel about this stark juxtaposition?

    It seems to me that this poignant, sickening contrast is supposed to make me feel irrevocably unsettled. For it is this discomfort which inspires real personal understanding of the need for change. Ultimately, gross global inequalities cannot forever persist without consequence. I am not sure that guilt is necessarily the appropriate emotion here; rather I prefer to leave South Africa with a newfound consciousness of the world’s realities that will inspire my actions in the future. Hopefully, by sharing my stories with others, I can spread this awareness, as Paul seeks to do with his work.
 

    On Wednesday, I had my first independent South African adventure. One aspect of this trip that has challenged me so far is striking an appropriate balance between the desire to explore this new place and the reticence to be truly daring. Oftentimes, the adults surrounding our group challenge us to break outside of our comfort zones in order to get a feel for what it really means to be South African, but they simultaneously warn us to be careful and to remain vigilant at all times in order to avoid dangerous circumstances. The dichotomy of these pieces of advice never fails to perturb me: how can I spontaneously make new acquaintances and have casual conversations if I am inherently suspicious of anyone who approaches me?
   

    Finally, I decided to take matters into my own hands. My boss, the Social Media Director of the Black Sash, and I compiled a list of places that I can safely visit on my own as activities to restore my creative energy, as I work on the design of human rights education materials to be broadcast nationally throughout South Africa. The first activity on my list was to spend the morning at Camps Bay with a spectacular view of both the ocean and the Twelve Apostles Mountains.

    And so I spent the morning collecting sea glass and shells on the beach with the wind whipping across the shoreline so strongly that my ears nearly filled with sand. I spoke with locals walking their dogs in the morning sunlight and even took in the sight of an impromptu beach rugby game. Beach rugby- quite the South African sport. This morning marked a pivotal moment in my time here because in exploring the oceanside for once on my own, I finally proved that I trust these people and this place. While I will always remain aware and watchful, I will not be afraid in a place that has effectively become home over the past six weeks.
 

Six students recently were invited by Duke Magazine to talk about current campus life at Duke through essays.  One of them, Michael Blake '10, who participated in DukeEngage in South Africa during the summer of 2008, offered his perspective on civic engagement.

"As I walked through the bustling streets of Cape Town each morning on my way to work at the District Six Museum, I stared in awe at the world around me.  I passed by Zimbabwean refugees, sleeping on the sidewalk and hawking goods in the street, struggling to survive hundreds of miles away from home. I gazed in disbelief at the latest headlines in the newspapers that highlighted rising xenophobic attacks on foreigners and the failure of government intervention to stop the violence. And, for the first time in my life, I was in the racial minority. The sights and sounds I encountered made my life back in the U.S. seem distant and unreal."

Read Michael's essay in its entirety.

Read the entire Duke Magazine feature, "Generation Duke."