One REALLY Live Earth

The party didn’t stop until 1 in the mornin’, and I have to say, I think the Joburg concert was one of the best. We got clips from other places, but ours had soul, and a lot of it. From the Soweto Gospel Choir to Zola and Joss Stone, the Coke Dome (ironic that Coke is part of saving the world) was hippity hoppin’ all night long. Highlight for me – Paully Shore, from such fine films as In The Army Now, Jury Duty & Son In Law, was in attendance to open the evening. A-MAZING! Once more, words don’t really tell the story, so I put together a short vid. Rock out. I did!

“We’re Building A Movement”

I didn’t even have to say it this time. Zaks, the leader of “Township Glory” opens every leadership training session talking about the movement. After an eggs on toast breakfast (a surprising development after two days of local cornmeal, milk and sugar fare) I grabbed my bags and the Captain (Marshall) headed for Orange Park, the home of Zaks’ program.

We left Soweto, drove through Kliptown (the shanty town) and entered Orange Farm on its one paved rode. After just a few minutes of driving we pulled off the pavement and onto a long, winding, diveted red dirt path leading into the shanty neighborhoods of Orange Farm township. The heavy winds were rustling up whirlwinds of dirt all around us. It looked as if there had been no rain in months. I couldn’t tell if this was a blessing or a curse. Of course, water would be nice, but I was unsure as to whether or not the houses would sustain even the lightest trickle of water.


“The dirt roads become rivers,” Zaks told me, as we walked down his neighbor’s car less driveway toward a makeshift church that doubled as his meeting room. I entered to find that more than twenty kids had shown up to talk about YV, the movement and their participation in “Township Glory.” The walls were covered in old newspapers. None of the window panes had glass in them.

“We’re in this room because we’re starting a movement,” Zaks begain. “We’re tired of the way things are. We want drugs and poverty and unemployment out of Orange Farm, and we’re going to do it. This is a leadership movement and you’re all at the front of it.” The room went wild! We went on to talk about how to make that change and what part they played in the global movement.


Zaks uses the arts to inspire, encourage and teach. From slam poetry to dance and theater, every kid involved plays some role. I was fortunate enough to get a special show that included original poems, traditional dance and some modern moves, on which Zak and I joined in. Lets just say I busted a move. His energy is contagious. You can’t help but get excited. Still, he wants to take it further. “I don’t want to be the only role model. I want everyone to be role models for each other, so I started a facilitator training program, to get teenagers trained to help the younger kids. It’s going well.” With his drive, I don’t know how it couldn’t be going well!


From there it was to Mofolo, where I met with Brian and about fifty youth involved in his project. He has turned an abandoned schoolhouse into a community center where kids from private and public schools come together in an environment that encourages exchange and support to reinvigorate the students in public school and give them the extra help they can’t get at home. The students in the private schools also help tutor during exam time as well as assist with University applications, making the idea of college “real” for them in a way they would have never considered otherwise.

Brian and I realized how similar our projects were, discussing ways to collaborate and learn from one another. “We take it beyond schoolwork as well,” Brain explained. “We infuse music, street culture and theater also, trying to educate both sides on their lives in a complete way.” I actually got to watch drum practice, as well as run around like a maniac playing tag with all the kids. For whatever reason, it didn’t matter who was actually “it,” the kids just chased me around.


I also ran into some fellow Americans there. The first were a group of high school students from Nobles High School in Boston. They were here for three weeks to “do service and stuff,” one girl told me. They arrived in their air-conditioned coach from their luxury hotel after flying first class to get here. My only hope is that they actually attempt to take an honest look at their surroundings and the work they’re doing, rather than just seeing it as coming to Africa and like, helping poor people. I handed out some business cards, so maybe we’ll get some projects from them. Now that would be cool!


The other American was a real character – originally from New York, he actually lives “in a shack down the road a bit,” as he explained it to me. Now thirty-three, his life goal has been to avoid the “real world” forever. Educated at Pomona College in California, he has spent the last 12 years bee-bopping the globe taking odd jobs to make time for his writing. I looked at him and in a lot of ways, I saw myself – never wanting to settle down. Then again, the whole shack down the road thing might not work for me. I wasn’t able to snap his photo, but he made me think of Chris Farley on SNL when he did the bit about “living in a van down by the river,” so I posted that picture instead. R.I.P. Chris.

From there it was to the airport, where Erin and I (Erin is an American who is interning for Ashoka in South Africa) were shuffled around to three bag-check areas and two boarding gates before actually boarding our plane. Nevertheless, we’re off to Cape Town!

Liberation Through Education, Part One

After rising bright and early at 7:30am and chugging through my now regular morning routine (unplug computer and cameras from extension cord strung from the main house. Take extension cord into bathroom. Plug bathroom light in. Take shower. Get dressed. Go hang my towel on the line. Get stared out by entire neighborhood. Eat breakfast), Marshall (I now call him Captain) and Erin picked me up for our day of site visits in two other townships.

On our way to meet with Walter in Freedom Park, we drove through Kliptown, the township where Nelson Mandela held meetings and forums while making plans to fight against Apartheid. After Apartheid fell, big promises were made to the people of Kliptown – basic infrastructure, new schools, jobs and public spaces. Today Kliptown remains a shanty wasteland with no electricity and no running water. Port-a-potties line the dirt streets that separate the rows of corrugated steel huts. This provides the landscape for the one structure the government did build – a monument to freedom and equality.


We arrived at Freedom Park Youth Class to find hundreds of young children converging on a big green church. More than 200 preschoolers come together every Monday and Friday to participate in Walter’s “generation-gap” lessons in English, shapes, colors, numbers, days of the week and months of the year. He uses high-school aged kids as his facilitators and together, through song, dance and games they work with the tiny tots to improve their English through fun repetition activities. There are dance moves (which I learned), competitions and a “solo” section where the hot shots get to show off. After an hour-long lesson, they all head outside to groove and move while singing their enormous repertoire of songs in big circles, teachers and facilitators taking the lead.


What shocked me was how well behaved the children were! If Walter was talking, you could hear a pin drop. If a facilitator started a game, the room went silent! “Respect is rule number one,” Walter told me. Indeed, merging life skills with practical lessons seems to be at the foundation of his program. Once the preschoolers had left, Walter regrouped with the teens to talk about social issues affecting them, from HIV/Aids (the infection rate is 25% in South Africa) to teen pregnancy and safe sex. He’s found a way to empower multiple generations to teach each other while learning themselves.


From there we headed to Yeoville, another township, where we met with Denio and some of the high-schoolers she works with at a private Christian school in the neighborhood. I sat with Dineo, Daisy, Jikay, Fransisco, Everestico and MK (he said I wouldn’t be able to pronounce his actual name) for the entire afternoon talking about big issues facing them. This discussion forum is at the foundation of Dineo’s project – she wants to get young people talking about issues like sexual identity, sexual health, safe sex and HIV/Aids in an open, supportive, non-judgmental setting. Her long-term goal is to be able to train these young people as facilitators, so that they can then go out into their own communities and have these conversations, encourage exchange and educate their peers.


What I found most interesting is how different these youth were than the youth I had been around in Soweto, who attend public school (at least, when there isn’t a strike going on). They haven’t been affected by the strike. School has remained open. They took their exams. They’re gearing up for next semester. When we started talking about what motivates them, they all said the same thing: a supportive family. From there the discussion led to what society can do for those youth who don’t have that strong base at home. Answers were hard to come by. I saw looks of confusion on their faces. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to help, it was just that the idea of having no support had never entered their psyches. Indeed, it is often difficult to relate to people who aren’t in your situation, but the challenge then becomes stepping into their shoes, empathizing and as they all pointed out, not passing judgment. “This is something we all need to think about more,” Jikay told me. The group nodded in agreement. “There has to be something we can do. I’m sure of it.” That’s what this movement is about. Asking the questions that aren’t being asked. Challenging youth to think critically about their world, then supporting them when they’re ready to take action. I’m looking forward to seeing what they come up with!

On the drive home I noticed something else “missing” from everyday life – no streetlights. The boulevards were pitch black. How can you encourage positive change when your environment doesn’t even offer the basics? Let’s get those lights on, hang those street signs and install those trashcans. You’ve got to start somewhere, even if it seems too simple…