Saturday December 20, 2014
Jonathan and I met at a Starbucks at 8:00AM on Saturday to prepare for our first workshop and work on our morale. I had arrived in Houston at 11PM the night before, and didn’t get home until 12PM. In the midst of a full academic schedule, being an RA, being an MCSG rep, applying for grants, facilitating the mixed people’s identity collective, while still attempting to maintain a social life, I’m surprised I pulled off planning a Live It! Project with Jon for the three weeks we would be in Houston.
What drove us was our excitement for the project. Even during midterms and finals, we would say “but it’s going to be amazing,” because this is our community, and this project is about people like us. We did the same thing that morning. When any doubt begin to fill the air, we would say to each other “this is going to go well, we’ll make it go well.” After hundreds of emails, phone calls, skype meetings, and google docs, we established a free location for our workshops and a free venue for our gallery at the Neighborhood Centers Inc., and we got friends and friends of friends to come to our workshops.
Our first workshop was a lot of trial and error. Six people (mostly our families and friends) came to the first workshop. We learned a lot about how to keep people engaged in the presentation and changed our questions to guide better discussion. People told us they enjoyed the discussion. By the end of it, I was proud, and even more excited to do better on the second.
December 21, 2014
British philosopher Alan Watts once said “There is a price to be paid for every increase in consciousness. We cannot be more sensitive to pleasure without being more sensitive to pain.” As our workshops progressed, we began to realize that perhaps the real substance of the project was not about the end product of the stories themselves. Placing so much emphasis on creating photos and written narratives to present at the end would serve to limit the experience to the tangible, while overlooking something greater within the narrative process.
Anthropologist Catherine Bolten writes about how memory is an act, one that is more about the present than the past. In the way a narrative is told, the storyteller repositions and re-situates himself or herself in the present moment.
There was a familiar uneasiness at the opening of the second workshop.
After the photography portion of our workshop we brought the group together, pulling the chairs into a tighter circle. Within the space of this circle we began a group dialogue. Individuals here started to open up, speaking to the group about their experiences of movement, the meanings they attach to home, and conversations they have had with their parents.
What began to emerge was a discovery process as individuals revisited and re-lived past memories.