Life happens so quickly. One moment I’m playing in the sandbox, arguing about cartoons with my buddies and dumping a bucket full of sand on my crush because at the age of six I had no idea how to properly express my feelings. The next moment I find myself a junior in college, debating moral law with philosophy majors and actively searching for a woman I’d be willing to spend the rest of my life with until death do us part. This semester abroad has been no different.
Over the course of the last semester life also has happened so quickly. Michael Brown was killed, I boarded a plane to Venice, protests ignited across America, I traveled Western Europe meeting many wonderful people along the way, racial tensions were inflamed on my college campus due to a themed Greek party, I spent time with family in Granada, Spain, falling in love with the Spanish culture, Officer Darren Wilson was not indicted and I recently participated in an authentically Venetian celebration at the Salute which made me feel like a Venetian for the first time all semester. And now I find myself preparing to head home feeling every single mile between my Venetian reality and my American reality. Citizenship is a tricky devil. I believe that. In the midst of its seeming simplicity there is a constant complexity, causing my definition of citizenship to be refined almost daily. While my idea of citizenship has surely evolved over the course of this semester I’ve learned that my newfound idea of citizenship is an ever-manifesting construct, being redefined by each public sphere I choose to engage. It looks and will look different depending on the my self-immersed environment. In context, my definition of citizenship before coming abroad was simply “be kind to others, help and love all—do good.” I’d be mistaken if I don’t acknowledge that this simple definition still bears fruit. We should all be kind to each other, help, love all and do good! But life happens so quickly. There is so much more to life. In some cases simply “doing good” does not suffice. There appears to be a deeper element to citizenship that calls for the renewal of one’s mind depending on the presenting circumstances because “simply being or doing good” does not resolve the root problem behind impacting political, socioeconomic or racial-charged issues. I’ve learned citizenship seems to be more akin to problem-solving if anything. That we as citizens should feel an obligation, within our own extent of influence, to not just simply do good but to furthermore seek empathy as we strive to define the common good within the context of the public sphere we engage. We should be willing to accept the definition of citizenship is not stagnant. I empathize with the Brown family. After being initially unarmed their son was killed, arguably murdered, by the bullets of an officer who claims his life was in immediate danger. Regardless of the facts this truth remains: a young black man is dead and because the disease of negativity, rooted in racial perception, still plagues America I could very much so be the next Michael Brown. That is the reality of my skin, a burden I will bear until my life’s end. The killing of Michael Brown challenged me to reevaluate my original definition of citizenship because as a citizen the solution to the public sphere’s problems is not so easily resolved by being kind, helping, loving and doing good. Although these aspects of citizenship are always needed, it seems my extensive role as an American citizen is to partake in uncomfortable conversation as well as education my fair-skinned brothers and sisters about why a Michael Brown matters—why my life matters—in the context of a given situation. I’m doing my part as a citizen when I challenge the perceptions of the majority through my own constructive and well-informed arguments. I now realize that citizenship is about speaking up for injustice, in whatever form it may take, alongside kindness, helpfulness, love and doing good for all. I embraced the Festival Madonna della Salute as if it were my own tradition. I brought a candle for two euro, walked up the steps of the Salute and immersed myself into the oceanic crowd—blending in so well that while I patiently watched mass I was startled by the touch of the friend that was with me. She reminded the real reason we’d come to the festival was to merely light a candle than leave. Although I obligated I did not want to leave and upon lighting my candle, effectively participating in the ceremony’s main event, I felt for the first time all semester that I was actually a Venetian citizen. This made me bid my friend farewell and further partake in the outdoors portion of the festivities. The Festival Madonna della Salute challenged my original idea of citizenship because practicing kindness, helping, loving and doing good don’t exclusively provide the actual feel of citizenship. This entire semester I had been practicing my original idea of citizenship in Venice without actually feeling like a Venetian citizen. I learned that it seems true citizenship is not just what you bring the public sphere, but also what the public sphere reciprocally brings to your life experience. Today I feel like a confused dual-citizen, an American and a Venetian, trying to make sense of two my contrasting worlds. And yet, I couldn’t be more content. Every day I engage any given public sphere I feel one step closer to the truest definition of citizenship. Furthermore, I find myself giddy about seeing how my definition of citizenship shall manifest in the future.
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AuthorDarius Williams ArchivesCategories |