Our full script for recording:
J:
The lenses I see through are backwards. Instead of composing many
different colors and textures into a single image, they take a snapshot
of the world and refract it into the many different aspects of my life
that make me who I am and affect how I perceive the world. I see the
world based on my experience.
My
experience has been deeply multicultural. My parents immigrated to the
United States from the Ukraine, and their history and culture has become
mine. My culture is rooted extensively in the importance of family, in
tradition, and in religion. My church is my home and the community is my
family. I miss the cool calm of the cathedral, the rich, musky aroma of
the incense, and the resonant murmur of the chanters’ voices. My
experience has made me curious about the world. I want to know about
every culture, and religion, and history on the planet.
J à A: It fascinates me how magnificently different we are; but why can’t we all live in peace with our differences?
A: Why can’t we all respect each other for who we are?...
Growing
in a Macedonian family that carefully constructed a bubble of a calm
childhood is something I am lucky to have been part of. This bubble was
my little world, world of respect for my Christian Orthodox religion;
deeply intertwined with the tradition and culture, created ever since I
could say Easter or Christmas. I grew up to have a respect for any other
religion including the one that is perceived to be opposite than my own
– Islam.
But
for some reason, there was always that distinction, that line that
separated Macedonians from Albanians - Christians from Muslims.
Something I couldn’t realize and understand.
Then,
a harsh reality check came when I was about 5. A terrifying sound,
followed by a horrific tremble was just enough to make me realize that
the whole world is not how I thought it was – that it is not anything
like how my bubble worked. In one moment a grenade fell only a couple
hundred meters away from my house. It shook and shattered my whole
reality and flavored it with people’s peculiar inability of living with
respect for what is different than themselves.
The
smoke in the near distance was the first image of conflict that I
encountered and constantly come back to. The image that makes me think
over and over again about our differences and the possible ways we can
accept them.
A à S: It fascinates me how magnificently different we are; but why can’t we all live in peace with our differences?
S:
There are two things I ask myself: first, is there absolute truth to
everything? Second, am I culturally biased by the lens I see through?
In
the summer of 2011, I went to a summer camp for international girls in
New York State for 7 weeks. As the only girl representing China, the
feeling of loneliness and vulnerability struck me hard. I became more
and more sensitive to issues related to my country. On a sunny
afternoon, a girl from Taiwan told me she was determined do a workshop
on how Taiwan was an independent country.
I
was paralyzed. Hurt. Enraged. I always believed that there was such a
historical and cultural bond between us that it was irrational and
impossible to consider us as different countries. But, now, this girl,
from whom I could find the most similarities among all the other girls,
was telling me that she denied this unity. I was ripped apart.
I
spent the next few days in the computer room searching desperately for
evidence of how Taiwan and China belong to the same country. Shockingly,
I found few. One day I stayed up until midnight only finding an article
criticizing how my government was denying the fact only because of its
evil will of suppressing Taiwan people. I shivered. The computer room
was never as cold. I felt helpless.
On
the day of the workshop, I was nervous. I could hear my heart pounding.
As the workshop went on I felt sad that we had so many
misunderstandings and distrust that built up the tension. At the same
time, however, I felt relieved. Because despite the opposite viewpoints,
I could still see the connection of culture and humanity that lay
across the sea channel and bound us together.
Now
my views boils down to a simple hope: I hope that one day the word
China no longer has the political sensitivity, but, rather, pride,
peace, and a sense of home for all of us.
S àJ: It fascinates me how magnificently different we are; but why can’t we all live in peace with our differences?
J2:
I want to be able to share my experience with others, but I often feel
that I cannot. I hate that. I think it’s unfair. I do not want to make
my experience yours. I know that you have your own experience, unique
from any other individual. I want to not only share my story, but hear
about yours too. Differences are what make us special and this world
extraordinary. So why do we choose to reject all of the knowledge and
wonder, to focus on a minuscule discrepancy? Why can’t we learn through
our differences, instead of fighting each other?
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