"Books” draw from staff members’ lives to foster understanding and community
Opening the cover of your life story for everyone to see is an exercise in vulnerability many people may try to avoid. On a February afternoon at NAIT, School of Health and Life Sciencs associate dean Sheldon Bailey looks like one of those people, despite being seated in front of a crowd of students and staff.
“Full disclosure: I’m uncomfortable,” he says without irony, considering that we’re gathered in NAIT’s Centre for Community and Belonging, a space designated for safe and inclusive conversations.
But Bailey knows the risk could be worth the reward. He’s one of four participants from the NAIT community in the Black History Month “Living Library” series, organized by staff at the polytechnic’s International and Intercultural Community Centre.
Derived from a concept established at a cultural festival in Denmark in 2000, the “books” are people willing to share their personal histories and unique perspectives. Each session is an opportunity for “borrowers” – attending staff and students, in this case – to learn and be challenged. The lessons are theirs to keep.
Over the month, the books varied by points of origin and experiences past and present. Taken together, they posed, at least for this “borrower,” versions of a single question aimed at a deeper understanding: What can we do for each other to foster truly inclusive communities?
Making Space: Identity, Belonging, and the Sound of Community
by Ola Odanye, Community and Belonging Specialist
Ola Odanye believes sound and identity are closely linked. Some sounds come to represent the places we’re from – Lagos, Nigeria, in his case. And there are some that we chose that come to represent us, such as music, says Odanye. Almost always, the two are connected.
But, he asks, “Have you ever had to change the volume and tone to fit in?”
Odanye has. At a young age, education and career took him from Nigeria to the U.K., where he worked in the health-care system. “My skin colour was not very prominent,” he recalls.
The sounds in his new home were unfamiliar and loud. The songs weren’t the same. Rather than seeing his own added to the mix, he worried they’d just be drowned out, and if he was expected to allow that.
To this day, there are times, now in Canada, when Odanye still feels that pressure to change. “I try not to, because I don’t want to lose myself.” He finds the tension tiring.
So, why shouldn’t we make space for someone to bring their authentic self? Otherwise, would we be willing to make the same changes ourselves that we’re asking of them?
Steered by Intention: A Journey Made by Choice
By Sheldon Bailey, Associate Dean, Community Health
In his youth, Sheldon Bailey didn’t like to watch TV in February. The media’s take on the past, and its focus on slavery in particular, made him uncomfortable. “I don’t do Black History Month,” says Bailey. “I do Black Excellence Month. Excellence is happening every day.”
It’s not that he wants to ignore that dark time. But he strives to live in a way that recognizes and honours it. “They had their choice taken away from them,” he says. “There was no autonomy.”
While growing up in Jamaica, Bailey told his mom that he planned to work in a hospital. He chose to relocate to Toronto in his 20s to study x-ray and ultrasound technology.
Driven by his commitment to health care, Bailey made another choice to move into teaching, taking an instructor position in B.C. There, he moved up to associate dean before moving on to similar roles at Red Deer Polytechnic then NAIT.
“Embrace the power of choice you have,” says Bailey. “There are many people who didn’t get it – and some still can’t get it.”
So, are we ensuring that others can exercise their right to choose paths in line with their ambitions?
In the Footsteps of my Ancestors: The Enduring Greatness of the Yorùbá People
By Latifat Busari, Academic Advisor
Busari’s book is, in part, a crash course in the history of the Yorùbá people, who have lived in and around Nigeria, on the African west coast, for more than 1,000 years. They formed kingdoms, developed a robust mythology and pantheon of deities, and earned reputations as skilled craftspeople and leaders in a variety of technologies, such as metalworking and textiles.
Now numbering as many as 50 million people, they also exist as a global diaspora, in large part because of the transatlantic slave trade between the 16th to 19th centuries.
Busari is among a generation of descendants contributing to a movement to preserve Yorùbá culture, traditions and language.
“I think we’re in a state of remembering,” they say. That work is necessary not just because of slavery but because of a 99-year annexation by the British, ending in 1960.
“It’s incredible to me how our people were able to retain their culture in spite of all these gruesome things,” says Busari. “After all those centuries of oppression, we still hold that dear to us.”
So, if we’re welcome to, how can we help in that remembering, join in the celebration of culture, and acknowledge identity?
Threads, Rhythm and Play
By Gifty Amakye, Manager, Learning Services
In showcasing her Ghanaian culture, Amakye has us experiment with percussion instruments found in the West African nation, and points to games typically played there – one that looks a lot like Jenga.
“Did you know you were playing a Ghanaian game?” she asks.
With a coworker, Amakye also holds up a piece of fabric, roughly three metres long and two-and-a-half wide, known as kente cloth. It’s handwoven, and mostly orange from a distance. But, up close, it features intricate undertones of green, red and black. It’s like a fingerprint, with no other like it in the world.
“Each pattern tells a story,” explains Amakye. This kente represents her and her husband’s relationship, a story the couple told to its maker as they worked the loom.
While being a symbol of love, it’s also a symbol of how we come to be who we are. We are the products of experience, memory, place, and the bonds we form with other people.
“Identity is all the threads that weave together to create a beautiful pattern,” says Amakye.
So, if everyone’s story is unique, and often complex, we should be able to alter our perspectives to fully understand it.