Lauren and I have begun a community investigation project in 12 de Junio, a small sector of Villa Maria del Triunfo where INFANT has helped create and maintain a youth organization called "Los Peruanitos" -- the Little Peruvians. For the past few weeks, we've been meeting in unused classrooms at the primary school in the community, which will soon prove somewhat of a challenge as summer comes to a close and classes begin again this week.
We are building gradually to the exploration of community health issues through photography and writing, starting with territory both familiar and strange: the self. Our first step in the process is a self-portrait, inspired by the Literacy through Photography project The Best Part of Me, which highlights participants' strengths through a single body part of their choosing.
First, we m ade “Body Maps” – a drawing or outline of one’s body that connects memories, capabilities, and favorite activities with particular parts.
First, we m ade “Body Maps” – a drawing or outline of one’s body that connects memories, capabilities, and favorite activities with particular parts.
The girls then chose a favorite part and carefully considered how to showcase it in a single photograph—against what background, shot from which angle, using what gestures, and so on. The next steps will be to combine the photographs with writing about why they love that particular part of themselves.
Kelly asked, "Why do we have to pick just one part?" I replied that I thought when we limits ourselves, sometimes we're able to express more. But her question gets at other issues that are fundamental to this process, and the complicated relationship between the part and the whole--or even the nature of the "whole" itself. How do we really know when one thing ends and another begins?
Kelly asked, "Why do we have to pick just one part?" I replied that I thought when we limits ourselves, sometimes we're able to express more. But her question gets at other issues that are fundamental to this process, and the complicated relationship between the part and the whole--or even the nature of the "whole" itself. How do we really know when one thing ends and another begins?
The body seems a perpetually useful metaphor. In our first session with the group, we traced the silhouette of one of the girls to create a "being" that represented what everyone considered important practices for maintaining a safe space. Each girl added what she thought was a positive attitude or practice to the inside of this being, and then one that would undermine the safe space on the outside. When I asked if we should name this body, the girls came up with "Señora Norma," which can mean either a lady named Norma, or the Lady of the Norms. These norms include support, respect, empathy, communication, listening, solidarity, encouraging confidence, and being sociable, responsible, and tolerant of one another.
In filling Sra. Norma's single body with their multiplicity of opinions, they gave her the power to reflect back to them their ideal group--a dynamic entity, but a whole one nonetheless. In choosing a single body part, this notion extends to the self--as individuals, they bring unique gifts to the whole of the group; as the eye or the elbow to the rest of the body. But even these parts are made up many things--blood, bone, muscles, tendons--and the connections between them embody a porousness that can muddy the notion that they are distinct, separate, whole.
As we keep building--from understandings of self, to feelings about family, to ideas of community, these concepts of parts and whole will continue to be important, and the questions will persist. Can family be chosen? Is community defined by geography and proximity? Where do I end and you begin?