A Broken Camera, A Finished Project, and A Hike Up A Mountain

It finally happened yesterday! One of the cameras broke. I was wondering how long it was going to take before we broke those cameras in (pun intended). It was an accident and the guilty party was apologetic. Frankly, I was relieved. I felt like it was a kind of christening for the program that I had been waiting for for a while now. I handed the boy my personal camera and he took off smiling. 

 The group of 6th and 7th graders were the last to participate in, "The Best Part of Me" project yesterday at the Druk White Lotus School. Being the oldest students at the school, they grasped the idea of the project failry quickly and easily. Their images were beautiful and clear. I helped a few of the 6th graders pinpoint the subject of their photo, but other than that, they were all driven by their own ideas and creativity. Ahhhhh......success!

 The project is now coming to a close as I'm making prints to be stitched together in a final grid formation to be hung on the wall of the community dining hall. I can't wait to get it up there, to watch the kids walk in and see their own faces staring back at them. It will be great. I will try to video tape it and post it. 

 To finish the day off, I took a walk up to the Leh Palace in the dark (with no flashlight - smart, I know), which is very difficult since you have to scale the side of a mountain for part of the journey. But, when I reached the top, the city was breathtaking - lit up from the inside, out. All of Leh was glowing last night. I felt such a sense of accomplishment, not just for myself, but for the students. I'm so proud of these kids I can barely stand it. So I guess I will just keep climbing mountains with each of their triumphs, big or small, to exhale some of this LIFE that's overflowing in me. It isn't hard to see, even when I close my eyes, the new world these kids are creating through their cameras. 

Self Portrait/Bio Poem Project

The latest project I've worked on with the students of Druk White Lotus School has been a theme based in the self portrait. First, I rounded up fifteen children and sat them in a circle. I passed out papers and pens, and gave them a set format for writing a bio poem:

1) First Name

2) Four descriptive traits

3) Sibling of...

4) Lover of...

5) Who feels...

6) Who needs...

7) Who gives...

8) Who fears...

9) Who would like to see...

10) Resident of...

11) Last Name

The purpose of the Bio Poem was to get the kids thinking about themselves and who they are; which words they would use to describe themselves. Then, after writing the poems, I had a few children read their poems outloud to the group (ones I already knew would not be nervous to do such a thing). We then talked, as a group, about what kind of photographs he/she (the person who read their poem aloud) could make in order to visually express those ideas and descriptions of himself/herself. The students then began to think about their own poems and what kind of photographs they might make. I handed out the cameras and let them loose on the open world outside the school's doors. The end products speak for themselves. 

The First Photo Project at Druk Whtie Lotus School

Finally! After one-and-a-half long weeks of anticipation, I was given the time, space, and students needed to conduct my first photographic orchestra! It was wonderful. I picked up the 15 students after school from the hostel dining room, where they eat, play, and do homework before bedtime at 9pm. I had, approximately, two hours time in which to begin and bring to an end, this very first endeavor, for the children, into the photographic realm. I have been thinking about this first project for months now. I thought about beginning with a type of self-portrait project, as I knew that would be fairly easy for the children to understand. After some thought, I realized that the more fun and incredibly imaginative a project I can make this first one, that it would set the tone for the way I want these students to think about photography and making images - CREATIVELY. An issue with children overseas, which I also noticed at the hospital in Cambodia, is that there are finite terms for both learning and for the way in which you do things. There are set rules. There is no "outside of the box" thinking. It's just not cultivated or encouraged. In Cambodia, there wasn't even a word to translate for the English's "imagine," or "create." That was mind-boggling to me, but I understand it more now that I have learned more about each culture. These are all people who must do what is needed to survive, to get by, to provide the essentials of life for their families. So how do the children learn about being creative, being imaginative, coloring outside the lines? Well, that's where we come in - all of us; those of us who have seen and know the benefits of exploring the world in bright and bold colors have a responsibility to open a new door for these children. And last night, that's exactly what I attempted to do.

It was about five o'clock in the evening when I found myself trekking foot over foot up the hill to the hostel dining hall. Everything was quiet. All the teachers, administrators, and volunteer had caught the public bus or walked home. There was not even a sound coming from the dining hall. I peered through a front-facing window and saw about 150 children sitting on the floor, quietly, folding the t-shirts of their school uniforms which had recently been washed and pressed by the hostel house mothers. They were all staring intently at their light blue collared shirts, comparing theirs to the child's next to them to see who's was cleaner, or had better lines. There was a lot of pride in the room at that particular moment. 

I caught the attention of a few of the house mothers and watched as they walked toward me. I told them of my hope to take 15 of the children out for a photography project and their faces lit up. It's not too often that the students who live in the hostel for the year get this kind of attention from a foreigner, so my request was definitely welcomed. The house mothers lined up 15 of the children and sent them out to me. They were all looking at me, smiling. I introduced myself (never in ANY place I have ever been - including the States - has my name been such an easy one to learn. Here, in Ladakh, the word for "hello," "goodbye," "thank you," "god bless," is "Jullay." Yep. At an "N" to the end of that, and there you have it = Julayne). Every time I introduce myself I am greeted with smiles simply because of the familiarity of the sound of my name in their language. It's wonderful. 

I walked the children to room 5B, as it was the only one that was left unlocked. We sat in the back of the room on the floor, in a circle. I introduced myself again and had each of them introduce themselves (in addition, I had them write their names on a notepad, so that I would remember and pronounce their names correctly). I began by handing out small pieces of paper. I explained to the students that this project was called, "If I Could Do Anything, I Would...," and showed them some examples of work made under the same project name by kids in the States. They listened well, and when the time came for them to finish the sentence (If I could do anything, I would...), most of them had an idea of what they would write. 

We walked outside, papers and props in hand, and began with the first student's name on my list. All the kids banded together to help each individual figure out a way to get across the words on their piece of paper visually. There was a lot of laughter, a little frustration, and tons of community. Many of the girls wanted to fly. A few of the boys wanted to be Batman or Superman. But the desires that most touched my heart were the children that simply said, "I would ride a bicycle," or "I would draw a picture." It was in the simplicity of it. They could have chosen anything; to do..., to be, ...anything, and yet, many of them wanted to do or be things that children in the western world would never even think of as a privilege. It was beautiful in that way. 

I can't wait for the next project with these students. I am learning so much. I can only hope that they are learning a fraction of what I am. "If I could do anything, I would.....do this."

First Day Teaching at Druk White Lotus School in Shey, Ladakh

Where to begin???....WOW. I'm actually writing this at the end of my second teaching day at Druk White Lotus. The first day, August 4th, began at 6am and ended around 8pm. The days here in India are unquestionably long. The people in India work long, hard hours and I will not be the exception. Do not mistake this as a complaint. Yes, I am exhausted at the end of the day, so exhausted, in fact, that I'm too tired to eat dinner. But that may also be due to the fact that I come home from work at the school completely satiated, filled to the brim. I know I have given 110% at the end of the day and have left nothing in reserves, and still I am fulfilled; rejuvenated in a way that I cannot say I remember feeling since my days at the hospital in Cambodia. And, here, at this school, in this place in India, I feel even more useful. Not only am I preparing projects for certain classrooms during the day (social studies, science, english, math, history, art) to fit into the already established curriculum of the syllabi, but I am also creating photo literacy projects for the hostel students (those children who live at the school during the school year because their families live too far away for them to be bussed in and out each day), in addition to being an active member on the English team bored (along with another volunteer Josh, and five Ladakhi teachers at the school), and have signed on to assist at a wilderness camp for the older children this coming week. (I know this last sentence was quite the run-on - forgive me, I am tired and don't know how else to get all that information into the same thought any other way). It is clear to me that speaking to many people who speak broken english has definitely affected the way in which I am speaking English. It's much easier for many of them to understand if I also break up my English in the same manner...so bear with me.

I have, since the first day of school (yesterday), written up a structure for the upcoming "English Month" beginning August 10th, where we will provide competitions in debate, quiz form, spelling bees, and translation-a-thons to the students (all in English). If the children speak their native tongue in class, they have to cough up 5 rupees (roughly 10 cents). The students are pretty proficient in English already, but it's very important that they practice their reading comprehension, writing, and conversational skills. Luckily, all of us Western volunteers are here to provide topics of conversation. :)

I have also been shadowing a wonderful teacher by the name of Pali. She teaches five different grade levels and four different subjects. I have been helping co-teach with her (especially in the English class), and while we have been running lessons with the students, I have been taking notes on all the things they are learning. I am doing this so that at the end of the main lesson (i.e., the fourth graders are learning about the four metropolitan cities in India - one city every one or two days of class), I will facilitate a photo literacy lesson that fits in and supplements the work they are already doing. As many children learn visually rather than strictly by textbook and reciting information, it is my hope that Follow Your Art can provide another venue through which for these students to grasp the concepts of their studies. 

In the time between the end of school (3pm) and the beginning of my time with the hostel students (5pm), I work through and plan a photo literacy project for the hostel students. Here, with these students, and at this time of day, I have complete free reign on topics and project ideas. The first project planned is entitled, "If only I could, I would....". The students will begin with a sheet of paper and pen. On this paper they will write, "If only I could, I would..." and they will finish that sentence, whether it be "...fly," "....travel," "....teach," "...change the world," etc. They will be encouraged to be creative and listen to their deepest desires. This will give them freedom of expression and also a break from the "right/wrong", "correct/incorrect" dictation of their regular school day. Then we will brainstorm ideas of how to photograph each individual's sentence as a group. I will hand out the digital cameras, give a brief overview of how to use the cameras and how angles and composition can affect and change the meaning or viewing of the photograph, and then, I will set them free. I cannot begin my photo projects with the hostel students until next week as this is the first week of school and there are many things to organize and assess. When the projects begin, you all will be the first to know. I will be uploading some of the children's work on the blog as well as on Follow Your Art's facebook page: http://apps.facebook.com/causes/243168/5119438?m=6d54c0aa

Thank you for following the blog! Now I'm off to help some kids follow their art! (Too cheesy?)

Lamdon and Druk White Lotus School Visit

Yesterday, July 28, 2009, I made my first trek to the village of Shey to visit the two schools at which I will be instituting the Follow Your Art photo literacy program. Taking off from Leh, by bus, was a fairly easy task. The buses are not always on time, but there are many of them running and the bus station is relatively easy to reach on foot. About a half an hour after stepping onto the bus to Shey, we arrived. I thanked the driver, paid my 15 rupees (roughly 30 cents), and began to walk toward the main village. I passed an amazing monastery, built in the early 7th century, many rock carvings, the "holy fish pond" (an ecological preservation area), many chortans, and even more smiling Ladakhi faces. After 15 or 20 minutes my friend, Eric, and I made it to the first school: Druk White Lotus, or as the locals call it, "Druk Padma Karpo Institute". Eric, my tavelling buddy, is an old friend of mine, once my photography professor, then my teaching collegue, is a filmmaker and professor from Daytona State College in Daytona, Florida. The trek up to the school together was beautiful. Upon reaching the school, we encountered the head of the educational program, Prassad. He offered to give us a tour of the school grounds. The institution is nothing short of amazing. I have seen absolutely NOTHING like it in the states. Everything runs on solar energy. The buildings are all thermally heated by the sun and, through specially laid flooring, retain that heat through the cold, Himalayan winter. We visited many classrooms including the pre-k and elementary school area, the junior school (grades 2-4), middle school (5-7), and the soon to be built high school (8-12). The first students to ever attend the DWLS are currently in the 7th grade, and so the school is adding classrooms and grade levels as those original students ascend each year to the next stage. At every turn, I was shocked at the resourcefulness and "eye" of the architectural group building the institution. There is also a greenhouse in the works for next year where students will learn to plant, grow, and cultivate their own food. the classroom for the greenhouse is located directly in the middle section of the greenhouse, so the students will be learning in and amongst the growing plants. Simply wonderful. 

The school has also built four separate housing units for students living too far away to bus home each day. These 150 students live in the "hostels" at school, do their own laundry, and live with each other for the school year (becoming a kind of family for one another). As these students spend much time away from their families, I have a growing interest in working closely with them, hoping to utilize the cameras and writing as a way for them to connect with each other, the world around them, and to speak about the families back home which they are missing so much. Also, I will be working with the kindergarten students a lot, as some of these children are also living at the school. As four and five year olds, you can imagine how much they are missing their mothers and fathers. The projects will focus on self-awareness: "Who am I? What is my culture? What do I believe in? Who am I in my family? What will I be when I grow up? How do I hope to change the world", etc. 

There is also an expressed interest from the teachers that I enter into many different general education classes (i.e. science, math, health, etc.) and build projects that will reinforce what those teachers are hoping to get across to the students for that particular semester. I begin my work at Druk White Lotus School on August 4th and can't possibly express to you how excited I am to meet these kids and put cameras into their very capable hands!

After visiting Druk White Lotus, Eric and I walked a few feet down the only road running through Shey to the Lamdon School. There I met the principal, Lama Labzong. Lama Labzong is a monk from the Spituk monastery who has been working at Lamdon and acting as head principal for ten years. He was jovial, welcoming, and very excited about the prospect of the program being at Lamdon school. Lama Labzong offered Eric and I a wonderful meal at lunch time to share with him. We sat on the floor and talked about how the school came to be. Labzong told us of his many failed efforts to put successful roofing on one of the school's buildings (he put up roofing about five or six times, but the unforgiving winds blowing down from the Himalayas constantly thwarted his efforts). He is an amazing man. Because Lamdon school is on summer break, he invited me back on August 18th to discuss the program and fitting it into the students' schedule. 

I'm very happy and excited to be working with so many wonderful students and teachers at two very amazing schools here in Ladakh. I will be posting onto this blog and hope you can all keep up with the work Follow Your Art will be doing with these children.

Arrival into Ladakh

Julley! (Hello!) from the Indian Himalayas! I have officially arrived in Leh and will begin teaching the photo literacy program to students at Lamdon and Druk White Lotus Schools in August. I am currently taking it easy, trying to avoid altitude sickness, but will be updating you often with information on how the projects with the children are going.

We have raised over $3,500 USD for digital cameras for the children. A huge thank you to everyone who has contributed and to those of you who will be inspired to donate in the future after seeing the program in action!

Everybody Keeps Asking Me Why...

My first tattoo was a butterfly on my wrist. I had just turned 18 and couldn't think of a better means through which to commemorate the change, growth, metamorphosis that I hoped was on its way. As I blazed my trail, days passed, and I became acutely aware of butterflies: Butterflies in the garden, in the street, outside my window, all around me, everywhere. They became this kind of gracious omen, a message that I was in the exact right place at that moment of my life. After a year or so with this tattoo, I came to realize that I didn't really want the butterfly on my wrist. I didn't regret it, I just didn't need it anymore. I came to understand that we are all butterflies, constantly changing, becoming someone better, someone more. Something inside me needed that ink on my skin to be more meaningful - to be less about what I thought I wanted or needed to be and more about something bigger than myself. 

Then, I left for Cambodia. It was an adventure the likes of which I had never experienced before. I began working at a children's hospital there, making art with the young patients resigned to their beds. There were many children in that hospital who taught me new things every day - new things about life, about myself, about the human spirit. The truly important things in life were no longer about making the rent payment on time or how much money I had in the bank. No. The important things?...rubbing someone's belly when he didn't have the strength to do it for himself, smiling at someone, making new friends, building things together, laughing. One of the most shocking lessons I learned - the real gravity of a photograph. This is something that, as a photographer, I was stunned to learn I never knew.

There was a young girl at the hospital, no more than ten years old. Every day she would smile at me as we folded origami birds together to hang above her mattress-less bed. You would never have guessed by looking at her, that she was, with every passing day, battling an aggressive enemy: AIDS. Her family outfitted her bed with every toy they could gather the change to buy. She was very clearly loved. She always wore two plastic, gold bracelets around her left wrist. Finally, after working with her for a few weeks, I felt both she and her family had warmed up to me enough to trust me to make an honest photograph of her. I brought in my camera on a Thursday and made a single photograph. When I returned on Friday with the 4x6 print fresh off the local fuji print shop presses, her bed was empty. Her family was gone. I was told by a nurse that she had died. I felt numb. I handed the nurse the photograph of the young girl taken just one day earlier, and he promised me he would get the picture to her family. When I returned to work at the hospital on Monday morning, the nurse came to find me. He told me he had given the image of the little girl to her family and that their response was an emotional one. After spending ten years on this earth, this child's family hadn't the means or the inclination to ever have a single photograph made of her. 

That was the day I was taught about the power and meaning a photograph can bring to someone's life. It wasn't a lesson I learned in some university by some wonderful professor. It wasn't something I could've ever taught myself. This was a lesson that could only have come to me through this particular child, at this particular moment in my life. Was I meant to go to Cambodia? Absolutely. Was I meant to meet this little girl? Without a doubt. Do I believe she was put into my life to teach me about living, about dying, about being present in every moment? Do I believe that? With every breath I've yet to take.

The butterfly tattoo is gone. In it's place?: two gold colored rings around my left wrist, joined together by a heart. Growing, changing, metamorphosis - it's all about learning, about letting go of the need to be in control of what comes into and exits out of your life. Letting go, it frees you. It allows for an unexpected communion between souls. It is there that the real lessons are learned. It's in that place where you discover yourself. 

I see butterflies, almost every day. They remind me of that little girl, of why I do the things I do and make the choices that I make. They remind me that life is fragile, and without notice, the smallest gust of wind can change the direction of one or many lives, entirely. Life is fluid, like the pull of the tides. It can't be controlled or stuffed into a box. The best any of us can ever hope to do is to find a solid board, paddle out, charge some waves, coast over others, and, forgive the cliche, but, enjoy the ride.

I started Follow Your Art because that little girl changed me forever. I want to live my life with her memory on my heart. I do this because she made me believe that one person can powerfully affect another. That young girl stared her fears in the face, without hesitation, with a smile. I owe her at least this - much in the same way many of us feel we owe it to our greatest teachers to respect the lessons they taught us through living them each day. I am in a great debt of gratitude toward her for what she has taught me. It is my true privilege to honor her in this way, through creating this program. And that is my answer to the why.