MAD Mural Makers

The internet here at the cottage is interesting. Sometimes it works….sometimes it doesn’t…. What was really fun and made me feel super creepy was walking in the pitch black of night (keeping an ear out for honey badgers, leopards, and caracals) towards Liz and Hannes’ house. I didn’t realize how close I had to get for their internet connection to pick up. I can imagine they were like “what is this odd American girl wandering about in the dark with her laptop?” Oh well. The next time we just asked early enough if we could come sit on their couch and use their connection. The moral of the story is that we need to be better at writing on our blog. My brain is storing them for future use and there will probably be a surge in posting at some time in the future.

Well great news, Jamie and I have started developing a mural program for MADaboutART with some of the staff/volunteers. Right now we are working mostly with Nonkosi, Joseph, and Bantu. It’s been fun and challenging to take knowledge and experience and fit it into a different culture and setting. It’s about time we write about the actual work we are doing here neh?

When we first talked with Liz back back back ages ago she mentioned they’d like a mural, we thought, “oh yes we’d love to help with a mural, couldn’t possibly plan and organize one but participating would be great.” When we got here the first day at the center Phumeza and Liz further explained that they’d like us to have a more active role and also that Khaya, a former youth participant in MAD’s programs had a brilliant idea about a poem. Fast forward a bit….we met with Khaya and found out that another youth from the Nekkies area had written and performed the poem and Khaya formed a vision. I will pause here for a moment to explain how disappointed I am that Khaya isn’t as involved as he wanted to be. He has such a light in his eyes when talking about the poem, the mural, his vision and how much he wanted to teach it with the kids. He came whenever we asked and was so passionate about it. Then he couldn’t come anymore because he got a job. I am hopeful that he will be able to participate in the future and perhaps as the painting process continues. It’s not often you find such great, young, passionate talent.

Ok, back to the story telling. Khaya explained that a young man named Thembani aka soul.utter da poet wrote the poem and we met with him, he performed a bunch of great poems for us and agreed that we could use his poem “Mama I’m Sorry” for the mural. He performed it for the kids on the first day of class and it was great, the kids seemed to really understand the message and quickly began to visualize the telling of the story for the mural.

We have completed 5 classes thus far for the 20 session class. The team at MAD are really understanding and seem to be appreciated the lesson planning process and some of the other things that we’ve used to make things less chaotic. Joseph and Khaya both painted and went to London to exhibit the mural “Rainbow of Hope” with MAD when they were younger and they do such a great job of getting the kids to think in a less literal way about the storytelling. It’s looking great so far, pictures of the actual mural will arrive in a couple of weeks.

Here is the poem:

I went to a party

 and my mother told me not to drink

but I, decided to go with my own rules

I drank and drank

I came home late at night and my mother

was still awake waiting for her son to get home

and all I could say when I looked at

my mama was “I’m sorry”

The I’m sorry’s kept on coming

from a December holiday to a December holiday

then from a month end to a month end

then from a Friday to a Friday

then from day to day

until I was called an alcohol dependent individual

with a label on my forehead

Came the night I passed my matric

and again my mother urged me not to drink

due to a terrible dream she had

how insane is that I thought

I drank and drank more than I usually do

I was all over the place

making trouble

breaking bottles on the floor

hiking skirts

And all I can remember was a sound of BOOM!

screams came from all angles

the bullet hit the body

the body hit the ground

the blood escaped

pain paid the body a visit

Oh! My God this is explicit

they all cried

but it was too late

An ounce of happiness has caused a ton of sorrow

and they will never remember it tomorrow

tomorrow and the day after that until they follow

the heavens calling

the heaven has called and all that is

left is sadness, sadness, sadness

I never got the chance to say sorry again

but my mama knows that I’m sorry!

There will be 8 panels altogether. Four of them will tell the story of the poem, one will transition from the poem to a reflection, then three panels will offer strategies to avoid peer pressure and what life the young man could have had if he made different choices.

Here are some photos of the kids working so far.