Hello World!
My name is Angelique (ANGEL-EEK). A human first. Of a red-brown, cinnamon-like complexion. Warm, earthy, and subtly sweet, similar to the actual spice. Ultimately, pursuing perpetual growth and an ever-evolving consciousness. Welcome to YOUR Eleventh House - your first and last stop for conflict transformation and strategic planning for social change.
One thing you would not know about me just by looking at me is that I love creative writing. I have been journaling, writing short stories, poems, and plays for as long as I can remember. Many pieces of writing are hidden throughout my childhood bedroom back in Peekskill, New York.
You may be wondering…why did Angelique start Eleventh House? How did she get into the field of strategic peacemaking? Well, it’s a long story. I like to think that this all began my Sophomore year of College at Penn State, when I decided to enroll in the Humanitarian Engineering & Social Entrepreneurship (HESE) program in the College of Engineering at University Park.
This gave me the opportunity to work with a multidisciplinary team focused on creating business ventures that would be applied to countries in the Horn of Africa such as Kenya and Tanzania. The first project I ever worked on with HESE was focused on war-related disabilities in Sierra Leone. However, what led me to Tanzania for a three week field experience was a venture on the intersection of 3D printing and eyewear. My cohort and I stayed at the Nelson Mandela African Institute of Science and Technology in Arusha, Tanzania. There, I had the opportunity to participate in informational interviews with students, professors, lawyers, and stakeholders in the eyewear industry. This first experience with social entrepreneurship and international development was my second exposure to the demographic and social conflicts that can occur on the grassroots level.
My first experience with political, social, and demographic conflicts, that I was acutely aware of, took place on Penn State's campus after the 2016 U.S. Elections. The campus climate that I experienced during that time was rife with overt conflict due to the scapegoating, insensitivity, and fear-mongering that was occurring at the national level.
As previously mentioned, the second time I experienced glaring demographic conflicts was in Tanzania. I noticed that people’s perception of me shifted in that context. To some people living in Tanzania, I looked like Michelle Obama or a person that may be from Pakistan or Bangladesh. Whereas, to some of my peers from the United States of mainly European heritage, I looked like “them.” Growing up, I felt like my social identity within the conditions that I lived, worked, learned, and played in, hindered my sense of belonging and inclusion. My time in Tanzania was one of many experiences that illuminated to me the fluidity of my social identity. Not even my peers of the same national origin assumed to claim me. I left Tanzania wanting to explore social identity more.
Additionally, the lesson that I have always carried with me from my field experience in Tanzania is that qualitative change is paramount. Once you are on the grassroots level, there are so many unexpected occurrences that will change the nature of your venture. It’s the relationships that you build rooted in trust and respect, that make projects truly sustainable.
From Tanzania, I went onto live, work, learn, play, and build community in the Washington Metropolitan Area, Southern Spain and Morocco, and Guatemala. My reflections on these different experiences have helped me realize that I always find value in the relationships that I build in these places and the stories that people share with me. For instance, while living in Virginia and working on K Street for a bipartisan non-profit, my favorite part was getting to sit-in on hearings and policy development events at local think tanks. I remember going to an event at Carnegie Endowment for International Peace hosted by Sara Chayes. She was discussing her book, “Thieves of State: Why Corruption Threatens Global Security” and I appreciated being able to listen to the perspectives of stakeholders in the Democracy, Conflict, and Governance space. From my vantage point, it came across as more insightful and dynamic than anything I heard in the domestic policy space.
While in the North African country of Morocco, I was reminded of why one should work hard to not compare their situation to that of another person. My time in Morocco was brief, but there were two encounters that reignited this thought. First, it was our meeting with AMIDI. An organization that assists individuals migrating from areas and regions south of the Sahara desert with shelter, obtaining documentation, and finding work. With the help of a translator, translating from French to English, we were able to hear some of their stories. The stories ranged from detailing their journeys across the Sahara Desert, to originally wanting to migrate to Southern Spain, but then seeing on the news how migrants were treated and deciding to just stay in Morocco. The most surprising part was, when asked- "knowing all that you know now, would you still have made the trip?" A man said, “no.” He then went on to explain that in Morocco he was alone, still unable to provide for his family. He would have preferred to be surrounded by his family, friends, and neighbors back home in his own community.
Second, was the lunch we had with a family living in Ain Beida, a small town and rural commune located in the most northern region of Morocco.The husband and wife that we met with invited us into their home and made us a wonderful meal of couscous and vegetables, mint tea, and snacks. They told us about their life. How they enjoyed being close to nature. How they had a home that kept them warm during the cold months and cool during the warm months. How their children went to school and now have their own families. They even shared with us how they met in grade school. These interactions contrasted greatly and I acknowledge that my perception of these experiences are defined by my own position in the world and lived experiences. However, from where I sat, I started contemplating the complexity of the "American" and "European"dream. Do either of these places live up to the hype? I know it's easier said than done, and that it will never be simple. My experience in Morocco was a mere glimpse of two different realities. I must note that there are always nuances and shades of gray worthy of being explored. Yet, upon my departure from the country, I couldn’t help, but feel that the belief, “the grass is greener where you water it”—is its own kind of wealth.
Finally, I always like to say that my time in Southern Spain taught me how to love and that my time in the Western Highlands of Guatemala put that love to the test. I say this because after a full nine months in Granada, I left feeling like following my instincts will always land me in the presence of “my people”. I learned that it’s the people that we don't see eye-to-eye with that push us to grow. I realized, I have to make a conscious effort to be present and then be willing to let go. Once the moment passes, you can't quite remake it.
This wasn’t the case in Guatemala. I had the honor of living in the beautiful Central American country of Guatemala for 6-months during my Peace Corps service before being evacuated due to the Covid-19 pandemic. I feel so conflicted about my experience because I know that the opportunity to, once again, live under different conditions and deepen my understanding of the differences and similarities that exist across contexts and how they effect our social reality is beyond any monetary value.
As someone who grew up in a family that has carried traditions, values, and traumas with them from times of displacement, expulsion, and immigration from other contexts (as I am sure all of our families have) this is something that I deem important. It MATTERS to me. Thus, living in Andalucia, Spain and then the Western Highlands of Guatemala, was the best thing I've ever done for myself in regards to identity-building, racial narrative change and healing. Learning about the Islamic influence on art and architecture in Spain, the historical presence of individuals identified as Berbers and Arabs, the memory and identity of Sephardic Jewish people, the Romani population, the Basque conflict, the Maya and Garifuna people and how some of these histories run parallel and/or intersect with my own family history by having influenced our surnames, language, migration patterns and choices is something I treasure.
Simultaneously, the scarlet letter I feel painted over the left-side of my chest is because I was able to see first hand the realities of neo-colonialism in Guatemala - from the Mega Paca to the hippy dippy hostels. Also, I experienced the discomfort of my own position in the country which, despite my best intentions, foresight, mental and emotional preparation was inexplicably entangled with an agency that has masked cultural imperialism with "development" work. I went into the Peace Corps to learn, understand, and connect. WOW, did I learn! WOW, how the dots have connected and my understanding has deepened. Some of my main takeaways from my experience in Guatemala with the United States Peace Corps are -
1) Two things can be true. One person's desire for peace and friendship/cross-cultural connection/professional development/deeper understanding can be inextricably linked with someone else's war or fight against cultural imperialism. In other words, an imposed power dynamic that transforms and/or replaces the customs, traditions, norms, and language of the residents living in a community without asking what their needs are, what development looks like from their perspective, what their definition of "peace" and prosperity is in their context given the conditions they have to navigate for living, working, and playing. "I don't know what your intention was, but the impact was..."
2) To be critical is to care. Sometimes, yes, there is a need to go with the flow. However, other times, accepting things at face value is a form of apathy.
3) There are many governments claiming to be making decisions on behalf of entire populations of people that in reality just want good food, family, good health, sustainable livelihoods, and a window of opportunity.
4) Being in community with others means it's not necessarily about me. Meeting people where they are at and generously giving your time, attention, understanding, acceptance, skills, resources...whatever they might need... can lead to greater awareness and more meaningful connections.
5) The willingness to accept feedback, learn from a given situation, and then pivot our thoughts, behaviors, words, attitudes, and actions accordingly is a super power that individuals, institutions, and communities across contexts and all stakeholders a part of a project or intervention can benefit leaning into.
Once again, my time in Granada said, “be present and then let go”. Meanwhile, my time in Guatemala had put me in the crossfires of historical, geopolitical, and social conflicts. I was living in people’s homes, eating their food, and I had promised to see their ideas to fruition. Yet, it was harder to build trust with the people living in the community I was assigned to because my position with a U.S. government agency, to some, was associated with a history of loss, grief, and unfair power dynamics. After the evacuation, I experienced a heaping tablespoon of moral injury - a common harm that can affect anyone from a range of work sectors and professions. In this moment, I had to pause, tune-in, and assess my options. I wondered...is it possible to step away from my social identity and lean into my personal identity? What are my values? What are my emotions telling me that I need? What are my strengths and weaknesses? For these reasons and many others, I enrolled in the Conflict Resolution and Coexistence and Global Health Policy and Management programs at The Heller School for Social Policy and Management at Brandeis University. My studies at Heller gave me time to deeply reflect on the implications of my previous professional and academic experiences and provided concrete frameworks, tools, and strategies to reemerge into this space with a new and improved way to engage. Also, with a humility that acknowledges that I am bound to make mistakes. I have my own limitations. Biases that need to be tended to with curiosity. Perceptions that can only be cured with understanding. Hence, why integrating opportunities for evaluation and continuous improvement is both necessary and important. One year post-Masters, Eleventh House was certified as a business in the City of Cambridge and on our short-list of projects is a Kaqchikel Language Revitalization project with Centro Educativo Aj Sya. Ultimately, because everyone deserves to define what a healthy and sustainable livelihood is for themselves, and we would be honored to invest in your idea, and co-facilitate that process.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I appreciate your time and engagement. If you have any questions and/or comments, please feel free to send an email to youreleventhhouse@gmail.com .
Комментарии