Since the early 1990’s, over 100,000 ethnic Nepalese refugees from southern Bhutan have fled to Nepal as a result of racially-motivated forced eviction. In 1989, the king of Bhutan announced that the country would adopt the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy (also known as Bhutanization) prohibiting the practice of Nepali language, Hindu culture and religion, and any dress other than the traditional Drukpa dress. Thousands of Lhotsampa of Nepali descent who had been living in southern Bhutan since the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were forced to leave the country. Many were brutally tortured and others imprisoned; some spent nearly twenty years living in crowded refugee camps.
For the Bhutanese community in South Philadelphia, images of this history are now illustrated in a mural hanging at the Bhutanese American Organization of Philadelphia (BAOP). Facilitated by BuildaBridge artists Julie Rosen and Stevie French, as part of Nationalities Services Center's Philadelphia Partnership for Resilience with support from the Office of Refugee Resettlement, twenty-nine Bhutanese elders spent three months processing their histories through art-making experiences to create this mural. The left-most section of the mural illustrates their lives as farmers in Bhutan. The middle section depicts their forced journeys to Nepal and living in the refugee camps. The third, right most section, shows their new home - Philadelphia. Since the beginning of this idea in 2013, the goal has always been to display the mural at the BAOP in order for the elders to share their history with the next generation.
On April 11th, that goal was accomplished. Sixteen children, some parents and other leaders from the Bhutanese community gathered at the BAOP to reveal the mural and listen to the elders share their stories and process of the mural.
"We want to keep our history alive; we want to pass our history on through the mural to our children."
"It's a blessing being a part of this community and share the artwork with them."
"All [of us] were resettled in different countries, we came to Philadelphia. I love Philadelphia. I traveled to many cities - Philadelphia is my favorite."
See pictures from the BAOP event here. Read about the beginnings of this mural here.
Showing posts with label elders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elders. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Conquering that first scary mark!
Every artist is familiar with the paralysis brought on by the challenge of a blank canvas; the smooth, white, pristine expanse daring you to put down your first mark. Today, our group of Bhutanese Elders may have experienced this for the first time. They faced it, fought with it and conquered it.
Week after week, I am struck and inspired by the smiles and spiritual calm of our group members who have endured and thrived through so much hardship in their lives. While sharing their stories through drawn symbols and words, they have given us hints as to what underlies their ability to live in gratitude and grace. This strength and character, however, did not make them immune to the fear of the seemingly small challenge before them. When we announced that this was the day they would start their mural, actually putting colored marks onto the large canvas (mind you traced ones over our penciled sketch), they unanimously declined. There was a long pause and then a rash of heated Nepalese flying back and forth with the translators; “It’s one thing to draw and paint on paper! Our hands are too shaky! We do not know how to draw or paint.” They insisted that we, the experienced artists, should take over. From the start, many of them made it clear to us previously that they had never held a pencil, marker or paintbrush in their lives let alone been put to the task of creating a mural, so their wavering confidence was no great surprise and one might even say was warranted. But what we were caught off guard by was the degree of their resolve to pass the task of executing their vision off to us. Of course, we refused. Gently. And with a good amount of back and forth, we assured them (or at least tried to) that they could, in fact, do this. We convinced them (again, tried) that it was of the utmost importance that their marks, their personal expressions show up on this canvas that would represent them.
Initially, they wanted this piece for their community house, but they have since advocated for having it travel to represent who they are and all that they have been through. They wanted it to be right and beautiful. They wanted it to be perfect! On the plus side, their trepidation revealed a very deep investment in the project. But as teachers and facilitators, we knew that the mural had to be genuinely theirs. Our task was to guide them through fear to trust themselves. Like anyone facing that white expanse, they were going to have to take the risks that art-making demands.
So as the fear in the room started to dissolve into resignation, we rolled the canvas out and they got to work. At first, the pace was slow and careful, the lines shaky and thin. But the more they did, the more they felt confident making color choices, making lines, making mistakes, making art! At a point, there was a detail that a few of them wanted to change-the huts for milled rice were separated from the workers threshing in the field. They erased and penciled in their own accurate versions of this part of their lives. Of course, the forms and details in this section are perhaps the strongest of the mural; stylistically unique and beautifully authentic! They clearly were invested and felt great about it. The energy in the room got more and more active with ideas, original use of color and the interior focus that artmaking provides.
In the closing circle, we strongly reinforced their progression, complimenting them on their bravery and on their huge accomplishments of the day. Art is a different kind of scary, at times even painful. It can be enlivening, centering and inspiring. The room was full with the triumphant experience of meeting, facing and appreciating these truths.
- Julie Rosen, Teaching Artist with the Bhutanese Elders group and BuildaBridge's PRMHC Community Relations Assistant
Week after week, I am struck and inspired by the smiles and spiritual calm of our group members who have endured and thrived through so much hardship in their lives. While sharing their stories through drawn symbols and words, they have given us hints as to what underlies their ability to live in gratitude and grace. This strength and character, however, did not make them immune to the fear of the seemingly small challenge before them. When we announced that this was the day they would start their mural, actually putting colored marks onto the large canvas (mind you traced ones over our penciled sketch), they unanimously declined. There was a long pause and then a rash of heated Nepalese flying back and forth with the translators; “It’s one thing to draw and paint on paper! Our hands are too shaky! We do not know how to draw or paint.” They insisted that we, the experienced artists, should take over. From the start, many of them made it clear to us previously that they had never held a pencil, marker or paintbrush in their lives let alone been put to the task of creating a mural, so their wavering confidence was no great surprise and one might even say was warranted. But what we were caught off guard by was the degree of their resolve to pass the task of executing their vision off to us. Of course, we refused. Gently. And with a good amount of back and forth, we assured them (or at least tried to) that they could, in fact, do this. We convinced them (again, tried) that it was of the utmost importance that their marks, their personal expressions show up on this canvas that would represent them.
Initially, they wanted this piece for their community house, but they have since advocated for having it travel to represent who they are and all that they have been through. They wanted it to be right and beautiful. They wanted it to be perfect! On the plus side, their trepidation revealed a very deep investment in the project. But as teachers and facilitators, we knew that the mural had to be genuinely theirs. Our task was to guide them through fear to trust themselves. Like anyone facing that white expanse, they were going to have to take the risks that art-making demands.
So as the fear in the room started to dissolve into resignation, we rolled the canvas out and they got to work. At first, the pace was slow and careful, the lines shaky and thin. But the more they did, the more they felt confident making color choices, making lines, making mistakes, making art! At a point, there was a detail that a few of them wanted to change-the huts for milled rice were separated from the workers threshing in the field. They erased and penciled in their own accurate versions of this part of their lives. Of course, the forms and details in this section are perhaps the strongest of the mural; stylistically unique and beautifully authentic! They clearly were invested and felt great about it. The energy in the room got more and more active with ideas, original use of color and the interior focus that artmaking provides.
In the closing circle, we strongly reinforced their progression, complimenting them on their bravery and on their huge accomplishments of the day. Art is a different kind of scary, at times even painful. It can be enlivening, centering and inspiring. The room was full with the triumphant experience of meeting, facing and appreciating these truths.
- Julie Rosen, Teaching Artist with the Bhutanese Elders group and BuildaBridge's PRMHC Community Relations Assistant
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