Reinvigorating the Village Mind

“There’s no moon, but we can see very well. The sky is full of stars.” — Octavia Butler

The rhetoric of individualism has turned us away from the communal mindset. Our generosity has vanished amidst the need to receive after giving. Our interactions have morphed into transactions and the exchange of good vibes and wholesome energy has become unfamiliar. Love is a language we all speak, yet it has become mute. Our communities are suffering in silence, struggling to achieve alone when togetherness would have already accomplished. Neighborhoods are bleak — seeming to be a row of roofs housing insular people. Villages raise the consciousness of the collective and the magical powers it entails.

When initially applying to Afrotectopia, I was in absence of a community of futurists looking to imagine what could become of our world. I found myself struggling to articulate the visions I had for our world, and sometimes thought it to be futile. All of that changed when I was selected as 2020 Imagineer Fellow, and met the people who would shape my village mind.

HOMECOMING

My plans to move to New York City for graduate school after graduating from my undergraduate experience were replaced with returning home with my family to attend “zoom university”. I live in the back of my house in a shed that we ingeniously converted into a tiny home. Fortunately, I was able to obtain internet connection and create a quaint living space for myself, but I cannot help but think of those who are less fortunate in my community.

In 2015, my hometown, San Antonio was ranked the sixth most economically segregated city in the United States according to Bloomberg City Lab. I live on the Southside, one of the most disadvantaged sides of town. I continually hear stories of students who park their cars outside of libraries after they have closed, just to have Wi-Fi to do their homework. Not to mention, there are parents who rely on schools to provide both meals and care for their kids while they were away at work. The shift to remote learning has shaken communities, destabilizing and toppling structures that needed attention to begin with.

Outside of my tiny home, I was exposed to the reality of home life. Having been away for five years, I felt distant from the life I once had. I tried to articulate my community’s reality through the theoretical perspectives I was afforded from the university — it was an unending conversation. I often felt unsettled and anxious constantly living in and outside of my experience. Being a participant yet also an observer, I tried hard to make the two perspectives agree — and they wouldn’t; then, I learned they shouldn’t.

I realized there is no such thing as a “formal education”.

There are many ways of knowing. There is not one singular knowledge. I used to think of knowledge as something external. Now, I see the community as its best teacher. I credit my community for providing me with the foundation necessary for me to go away and be successful outside of it. Now that many of us are retreating to our homes, I wonder if others are returning to their foundational roots of knowing.

HOMEMADE

The first week of the fellowship, “Designing a Culturally Relevant Pedagogy For Remote Learning Amidst Poverty” was the most impactful for me. Among our required readings was, “Teaching to Transgress” by Bell Hooks. I had recently graduated from a predominantly white institution, and I had never read something that spoke to my experience in higher education with such poignancy. As a black and brown, first-generation college student, I felt validated, nodding in approval as I cruised through my neighborhood blasting the audio book (hopefully someone else heard and was inspired). From her book I found this to be some key takeaways for myself: learning is achieved through critical self-reflection, a teacher must be self-actualized in order to teach self-actualization practices to their students, education is an all-inclusive experience of body, mind, and spirit.

In my breakout group for this week we conceptualized a mobile phone app that suggests a crowd-sourced personalized curriculum for a user based on their interests and emotional state. Our inspiration came from Bell Hook’s statements: that education occurs at the intersection of “body, mind, and spirit” and the need to deconstruct the hierarchy between teachers and learners. This horizontalization empowers anyone to contribute to the database equalizing and localizing ways of knowing — configuring the village mind. These contributions are not limited to books, articles, and photos. Rituals, practices, projects, and activities are also encouraged.

Anyone can then input the subject they want to learn and how they are feeling. For example, if someone wants to learn about indigenous foods of the Dominican Republic and they feel like dancing, the app could suggest an experience: a recipe and a song that another user contributed to the database. This spreads community knowledge, keeps it culturally-relevant, and aligns with that person’s mood.

This app:

• Engages learners with culturally relevant material because it will be driven by community members
• Connect learners with the human experience of body, mind, and spirit — where learning occurs
• Challenges traditional notions of how knowledge is created and disseminated i.e., learning only happens in a classroom with a teacher, when knowledge can be suggested from the community itself and take form in a book recommendation, a personal experience, music, a suggestion to take a specific adventure, etc..

Through this contribution and retrieval of community-driven resources and experiences, each person can track their academic journey throughout their life. I believe self-reflection is a luxury that is not always afforded everyone and this app allows a user to look back on their life journey based on what they were learning and how they felt — a history of the state of body, mind, and spirit.

The conversations that sprouted from this creative process made me realize that we need to archive our own knowledge by deep introspection and assign value to it by practicing it. Though this process is liberating, its materialization within the current digital landscape is difficult. Blackness is surveilled yet, and it’s unsurprising.

A MESSAGE TO IMAGINEERS

Just the other day I was reading an article on speculative fiction for one of my classes, when a quote stood out to me. It stated that we are witnessing,” the downgrading of dreams to hopes”. The limits of our imagination are being bogged down by the problems of our current world. With that I urge you to imagine, then on second thought consider if that vision is a hope or a dream.

GRATITUDE

The Afrotectopia Fellowship reinforced the importance of fiction in my journey as a world shaker. I am often burdened by the weight of current events, only seeing what needs to be fixed and realizing how much work it is going to take to remedy it. This space has granted me the freedom to imagine unrestrained. It was a bit uncomfortable, and I worried my ideas would not be grounded or real enough, but that did not matter. I began to see my ideas as creations of my own intuition. Announcing these ideas is to set a pin in the outskirts of human thought away from the current reality. This pin may be distant, but in the future, when human reality encounters this, my intuition may provide guiding thought on that reality.

I have felt inspired, excited, and hopeful for the futures of the black diaspora. As black people, there is much to look forward to. The ability to manifest is ours. The effects of imagining are ours. The force of willpower is ours. The future belongs to those who envision and create — and a place for this was the Afrotectopia Fellowship.

This experience is what it was full because of all the thoughtful people who brought this space to life. I would like to thank all the participants in the weekly Imaginariums. Your presence and contribution to the conversation filled my heart knowing there is an insightful and knowledgeable community who are willing to convene to discuss our Black futures. I would also like to extend a thank you to the Afrotectopia Fellowship Cohort. You all have enriched my perspective on the ways we can plant seeds today, to grow our future. Most of all, I would like to thank Ari Melenciano for identifying the need for this space in our community, advocating for it, and continually nourishing it. This experience is surreal to me — an experience that connects the body, mind, and soul. You all have made history in my life story.