A learning, uniting experience

One thing I’ve learned about myself is that I really love a good challenge–physically, mentally and professionally. Perhaps this is why I said yes when Professor Jamie Tester Morfoot of the UW-Eau Claire Social Work Department asked me to help lead the inaugural social justice immersion to South Africa just a few weeks ago.

When Jamie gave me a run-down of the itinerary, I was shocked to discover that it checked all of the boxes on my “Things I’d Love to Get Paid to Do” list: hiking, camping, and visiting historical sites and museums. Three weeks abroad with a group of 11 undergrads nearly 8,700 miles from home — how difficult could it be? I had studied and later lived there years prior. Plus, my passport was still (barely) valid, and I owned the right outlet adapter. I was basically ready to hit the tarmac.

I expected that the students would fall in love with South Africa as I had done myself years before. But they seemed timid in our pre-departure meetings, often sitting in silence and requiring prompting to ask questions or share their thoughts. This immersion demanded a lot of discomfort, emotionally and otherwise, as we left the luxuries of home behind. Plus, international travel with a group of near strangers came with its own set of hurdles. The margin for error was pretty wide, and I was becoming acutely aware of all of the things that could possibly go awry — especially if our group didn’t connect well.

Luckily, nothing complicated happened during our first few days. We all landed safely — no flight delays or lost luggage. The weather was unnaturally warm and sunny for Cape Town that time of year, and the kickoff with our partner organization EducoAfrica set the historical and social context perfectly for the group.

A few days into the immersion, we began our pack-in, pack-out camping adventure where we would be stripped of all technology for three days (!) and sleep under the stars of the Southern Hemisphere. And I mean literally — in sleeping bags with no tents. Surely, this was where the wheels would fall off. Anybody who has done any degree of backcountry camping knows the demand of such trips. Our knees buckled under the weight of our backpacks, we had no way to tell time or listen to the new T. Swift album, and we had to talk about our feelings in discussion circles. As icing on the cake, it was nearly 80 degrees during the day and dropped to the mid to low 30s at night — or at least that’s what I am guessing since I could not check my weather app.

Despite all of that, the students pushed through. Nobody plummeted to their death while we scrambled up a kopje. Everyone was totally chill about the fact that we had to share a poop trowel (ya gotta dig the hole wider than you’d think!). When a rogue baboon bolted through base camp on a pilfering quest, we successfully chased after him, clapping and hollering as we were trained to do, until he dropped his loot and disappeared. We learned to sleep closely like sardines and use tarps as a frost barrier. And, as a personal win, I did not nervous-vomit on our students who cheered below me while I rock climbed (even though I thought I might). Each and every student seized the moment, fine-tuned their leadership skills, came out of their shells, and just went with it, encouraging each other along the way.

The pride I felt for our entire group didn’t end there. Our immersion also included visits and job shadow opportunities to various agencies throughout Cape Town, including Abigail Women’s Movement, Yabonga Children’s Project, MusicWorks, Mamelani and the Leliebloem House. These agencies and their dedicated staff serve thousands of individuals — mostly children — from some of the most segregated and marginalized areas in the Cape Town region, providing services such as child care, transitional housing support, music therapy, and community health education and services. The stories and realities shared prompted our group to reckon with the undeniable inequities that we witnessed daily while reflecting on the privileges we have ourselves. By the end of the immersion, the students were asking questions and making connections that would put my college-aged-self to shame.

In less than three weeks, the students survived a wilderness adventure, witnessed a consequential national election, experienced township life, drummed and danced shamelessly, tried smiley prepared by local mamas (look it up!), and so much more. At the end of the immersion, as they bid their farewells to our South African partners and each other, the group laughed and hugged and teared up in ways I’d never thought possible from our pre-departure meetings. And the best part — Jamie and I had the privilege of watching it all unfold.

On my final day in Cape Town, I was aggressively washing the armpits of a sweater I hoped to wear on my flights back home. As I scrubbed, I found myself singing the words of a song that our Educo partners would sing to wake us up each morning in the mountains. We couldn’t possibly appreciate it then as we lay frost-covered and frozen in our sleeping bags, but the song quickly became an unofficial anthem for our immersion, and our group would break into song multiple times a day. Now, with our time having come to a close, the lyrics seemed to (as the youth would say) hit different: “It’s a beautiful day, it’s a beautiful day. Everything is possible in an impossible way.”