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"The Auschwitz workshop is a feminine and feminist story, of friendship and loyalty. The story recounts the crossed paths of the talented Marta Fuchs; the indomitable Hunya Storch; Irene Reichenberg, who lost her sisters one by one; the French women Marilou Colombain and Alida Delasalle; the young sisters Katka and Bracha Berkovic. They have all passed away, but Adlington met the latter before she died in 2021. She visited her in 2019 at her home in San Francisco, California to chat with her. "It was surreal," she confesses. "I was there, in the kitchen of this woman who had made me chicken for dinner and an incredible apple pie, and who had spent 1,000 days in Auschwitz," Adlington says of talking to one of the people she had been researching for years." (Porcel, 2022)

Reference:
Porcel, M. (2022, June 11). A true story: The seamstresses in Auschwitz who sewed for the wives of Nazi leaders. EL PAÍS English Edition. Retrieved June 11, 2022, from https://english.elpais.com/culture/2022-06-11/a-true-story-the-seamstresses-in-auschwitz-who-sewed-for-the-wives-of-nazi-leaders.html

Reflection:
"The book exudes Feminism. On the one hand, Adlington wants to break taboos when it comes to telling stories about that half of humanity. "Everything in History revolves around men: books, statues, memories. We have to look at different sources, archaeology, newspapers. We must decode the lives of previously silenced women. In the past there has been a lot of focus on men's work, but how did women impact it? It is very powerful. It doesn't exclude men, but with women's perspectives, we discover a lot. No one knew about this fashion house, and it tells us a lot," she argues. Are there many stories left to tell? "Absolutely. We are breaking taboos around certain experiences, sexual violence, the role of pregnancy, motherhood. Every person has a story." (Porcel, 2022)

Two aspects make this material highly significant to me:

1. The fact that slavery happened and still happens in the world. I read many examples I could extrapolate to the Black and Latin-X experience. But also, it is not a war against the White culture, but against a damaging culture that has defined the abuser as White and the abused as Non-White, but that in reality, it goes in all the aspects of the humanity: Men vs. Women, Rich vs. Poor, Pretty vs. Ugly, and so on.

2. The absolute necessity to bring Feminism to our classrooms. It is not about reframing History; it is about coherence in History.

A thought crossed my mind when I was reading: We should practice "Radical Imagination," but we should also understand our reality: Many friends after the election of Trump in 2016 were surprised how America was now racist, but in fact, it was always like that and many forces want to keep it that way.

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On the left, the sisters Bracha and Katka Berkovic shortly before the outbreak of World War I; on the right, seamstresses recreate the same photo in 2013. CORTESÍA DE LUCY ADLINGTON

A haute couture sewing workshop in the heart of Auschwitz, made up of two dozen highly experienced sets of hands, among the best in their hometowns, some having worked for houses including Chanel. A workshop that produced patches and uniforms for SS women, but also dresses, coats, baby clothes, layettes and even trousseaus for the wives of high-ranking Nazis. A workshop whose workers sewed with threads, needles, fabrics and materials looted from deported and murdered Jews. A workshop that employed its slaves–many Czechoslovakians, but also Poles, Ukrainians, French and Germans–for 12 or 14 hours a day, every day, but through which, ironically, they managed to save their lives. The workshop is not a scene from a novel, but a real place that existed in the Auschwitz-Birkenau extermination camp for five years, about which the British Lucy Adlington speaks at length and profusely in her book, The Dressmakers of Auschwitz, recently published by Planet in Spain.

Adlington, a British novelist, made a name for herself in the publishing world thanks to the publication five years ago of The Red Ribbon. The fictional story spoke of a sewing workshop in Auschwitz, a story she had heard almost a decade ago. When she published the book, she began to receive messages from Israel, the United States and Central Europe. “They wrote to me: ‘My mother was a seamstress in Auschwitz, my aunt. We know the real ones.’ I became obsessed with it, and I saw that it was possible to research it,” she recounts in a video call with EL PAÍS, with the enthusiasm of a dedicated researcher finally bringing years of work to light.

“Everything in the book has sources, the dialogue, the scenes. I haven’t invented anything,” emphasizes Adlington. It was essential for her to stick to the true story, though the book reads as a novel and is written “for people who don’t normally read history.” “It was important to honor the truth,” reflects the author, who also acknowledges that she was often overwhelmed with emotion when writing, feeling “a cold fury” and “a great sense of responsibility.”

The Auschwitz workshop is a feminine and feminist story, of friendship and loyalty. The story recounts the crossed paths of the talented Marta Fuchs; the indomitable Hunya Storch; Irene Reichenberg, who lost her sisters one by one; the French women Marilou Colombain and Alida Delasalle; the young sisters Katka and Bracha Berkovic. They have all passed away, but Adlington met the latter before she died in 2021. She visited her in 2019 at her home in San Francisco, California to chat with her. “It was surreal,” she confesses. “I was there, in the kitchen of this woman who had made me chicken for dinner and an incredible apple pie, and who had spent 1,000 days in Auschwitz,” Adlington says of talking to one of the people she had been researching for years.

The author of the book, Lucy Adlington, with one of the surviving dressmakers of Auschwitz, Bracha Berkovic (Kohut after getting married), at the latter's house in 2019 in San Francisco, California (USA).CORTESÍA DE LUCY ADLINGTON

The book exudes feminism. On the one hand, Adlington wants to break taboos when it comes to telling stories about that half of humanity. “Everything in history revolves around men: books, statues, memories. We have to look at different sources, archaeology, newspapers. We must decode the lives of previously silenced women. In the past there has been a lot of focus on men’s work, but how did women impact it? It is very powerful. It doesn’t exclude men, but with women’s perspectives, we discover a lot. No one knew about this fashion house, and it tells us a lot,” she argues. Are there many stories left to tell? “Absolutely. We are breaking taboos around certain experiences, sexual violence, the role of pregnancy, motherhood. Every person has a story.”

The sewing room became a refuge for women, who arrived from doing harder work and never forgot that they were in a concentration camp under enemy scrutiny. There, they sewed garments so valued that their waiting list reached six months. It was all a contradiction: the Nazis refused even to let the Jews touch them, considered them minor beings and accused them of laziness, but they took advantage of their talents in exchange for a watery turnip soup and a chewy crust of bread with a piece of sausage. The seamstresses sewed for their executioners. They went days without seeing sunlight, housed in the same barracks where they worked, but at least they had a place to sleep with fewer lice and bedbugs—typhus plagues were fatal—than the others. “They were slaves, but they were the most privileged prisoners. That minority had the opportunity to be human,” she says.

Adlington also talks about the Hosses, the family that ruled the camp. Rudolf and Hedwig, with their garden full of roses, shared a wall with Auschwitz. She quotes a phrase from Katka Berkovic: “We were not human. We were dogs. They were our owners.” But they weren’t dogs. “They were a normal family, and they made some decisions. And they were the wrong ones,” she reflects on the conditions in which they enslaved the prisoners after taking everything they had. According to the author, in pre-Nazi Germany, 80% of the department stores belonged to Jewish businessmen, as was the case with half of the wholesale textile companies. Everything was “Arianized,” that is, expropriated to pass into non-Jewish hands.

She also mentions surviving brands that, at the time, were associated with Nazism: she speaks of Hugo Boss, C&A, the Triumph corset house, which, she cites, “resorted to Jewish slave labor, including children.” “Today, they are not guilty of their crimes,” says Adlington. “But they are morally obliged to recognize their brands’ responsibility. Many have not done so, but they have to be transparent. We have advanced, and it is relevant to the conversation.” In fact, without drawing comparisons to the atrocities of Auschwitz, Adlington focuses her eyes on textile today and tomorrow: “We know that there are people who work in forced, unhealthy, probably unsafe conditions, in long shifts. It is important to be alert. We are not perfect, but we do need to make conscious decisions. Because that should never have happened. And we can’t undo it.”

Most of those two-dozen seamstresses managed to leave the torture of Auschwitz. They remade their lives. And they stayed in touch. Many married other survivors. Some created their own sewing businesses, such as Ilona Hochfelder, who after making skirts for an SS officer managed to open the most prestigious bridal workshop in Leeds. Most of them had a hard time telling their children about their lives. It was not until the arrival of their grandchildren, more inquisitive and less frightened, that the oral tradition began. When Bracha finally spoke about those 1,000 days, she said, “I was in Auschwitz for 1,000 years. Every day I could have died 1,000 times.”

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A true story: the seamstresses in Auschwitz who sewed for the wives of Nazi leaders

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British writer Lucy Adlington recounts the lives of two dozen seamstresses who created couture garments in the concentration camp

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"Zoot Suit Riots, a series of conflicts that occurred in June 1943 in Los Angeles between U.S. servicemen and Mexican American youths, the latter of whom wore outfits called zoot suits. The zoot suit consisted of a broad-shouldered drape jacket, balloon-leg trousers, and, sometimes, a flamboyant hat. Mexican and Mexican American youths who wore these outfits were called zoot-suiters. These individuals referred to themselves as pachucos, a name linked to the Mexican American generation's rebellion against Mexican and American cultures."

Reference:

Coroian, G. (2022, May 27). Zoot suit riots. Encyclopædia Britannica. Retrieved June 11, 2022, from https://www.britannica.com/event/Zoot-Suit-Riots

Reflection:

I must admit that as much as I would like to see my Latin American community together, we are all divided. Such division seems to result from our inferiority complex after being treated as servants for so long. Capitalism has created corruption, and our politicians know how to use that in their favor very well. We have enough to survive barely, and our inferiority complex instead consumes our individualities with the hope that our kids get good grades, go to college, and escape poverty.

In the process of learning in this class, I have experienced an "eye-opening" experience where I am becoming aware of the critical role of art in education.

I emotionally reacted when I learned, a few days ago, about the Zoot riots where Latin American People were persecuted and killed initially for wearing a suit or because of their non-White status. Unfortunately, it is the reality of oppression, racism, xenophobia, and segregation. Yet, I wish our Latin American communities would work alongside the black community in search of Social Justice. Unfortunately, this is not my experience. We are so worried about surviving to be able to send money to our countries and buy the new truck or TV that we are willing to pretend to be blind. However, what is the other option? Poverty. And that word is terrifying to all of us.

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"The terms Latino, Hispanic, and Latinx are often used interchangeably to describe a group that makes up about 19 percent of the U.S. population. While it’s now common to use umbrella terms to categorize those with ties to more than 20 Latin American countries, these words haven’t always fostered a sense of community among the people they’re supposed to describe." (Simón, 2020)

Reference:
Simón, Y. (2020, September 14). Latino, Hispanic, Latinx, Chicano: The history behind the terms. History.com. Retrieved June 11, 2022, from https://www.history.com/news/hispanic-latino-latinx-chicano-background

Reflection:
One of the most powerful experiences as an immigrant was experiencing the change in my identity. Almost the instant I arrived in the USA, I was automatically, and without my knowledge, associated with the prejudice of becoming from Colombia. I noticed that when in New York, that identity will be mainly Puerto Rican or Dominican; in Los Angeles and Chicago, I will be associated as a Mexican. And in Miami, I am related to the Cuban Culture. Of course, Colombians and Venezuelans are a big part of the Latino culture, but we are not historically that strong compared to Mexico and Cuba.

Colombia and Venezuela share a long and complicated border in SouthAmerica. I remember the solid anti-Venezuelan culture in the 80s and 90s in Colombia, including the traffic of drugs in Colombia and the rise of Venezuela's dictatorship. Today, I see our communities getting together in the significant title of "Hispanics or Latinos." We are now in a new group that is trying to exist and survive in White America without disappearing or diluting the Cuban and Mexican American traditions.

Social constructivism should not exist in generalizations such as Latinos or Hispanics without finding the spaces in-Between all the cultures. Therefore, I tend to accept the term Latinx but more as a LatinX. The initial "x" is a Neutral Gender term, but an "X" in capital letters is a fluid concept of gender, political, and cultural identification.

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The terms Latino, Hispanic and Latinx are often used interchangeably to describe a group that makes up about 19 percent of the U.S. population. While it's now common to use umbrella terms to categorize those with ties to more than 20 Latin American countries, these words haven't always fostered a sense of community among the people they're supposed to describe.

Before activists, the media and government officials worked to group these identities into one, they were seen as separate. Puerto Ricans and Mexicans, for example, lived in different parts of the country and had their own distinct political and cultural identities.

Yet, as long as there have been people from Latin American countries living in the United States, there have been words to describe them. Some have fallen out of favor, while others have evolved. And many of them have a history as complicated as trying to unify multiple nationalities under one banner.

'Hispanic' Helps Unify Communities, Agenda

The first time the federal government used the word Hispanic in a census was 1980. The appearance of the term was borne from decades of lobbying. "It took the debates of the 1970s, the protests of the late 1960s to get us to 1980," explains G. Cristina Mora, a sociology professor at UC Berkeley and author of Making Hispanics: How Activists, Bureaucrats, and Media Constructed a New American.

Before 1980, those of Latin American descent were considered Spanish-speaking, having Spanish origin or white on the census. The latter frustrated Mexican-American activists because they had no data to prove that their communities needed resources for programs, such as job training. The National Council of La Raza, known today as UnidosUS, led in lobbying the Census Bureau to change the way it categorized Latinos and uniting Puerto Ricans and Mexicans to " hammer out a Hispanic agenda."

"In the late 1960s and early 1970s as people in the Census Bureau and bureaucrats in the Nixon administration were thinking about what this new group would be called, Hispanic became a term that people thought would probably be well-known because it was linked to hispano," Mora says. "But Hispanic was helpful because it seemed more American."

Hispanic refers to those from Spain and other Spanish-speaking countries, which excludes Brazilians. Grace Flores-Hughes, who worked as a secretary in what was then known as the Department of Health, Education and Welfare, has said she coined the term. However, as Mora explains, it's possible that Hispanic was in use before then.

While 1980 marked a milestone, this pan-ethnic term didn't really catch on until about the 1990s. By then, there had been two rounds of censuses and the media, particularly Univision and Telemundo, had helped to unite these communities.

"It wasn't just activists and it wasn't just bureaucrats," Mora says. "It was certain figures like Telemundo, Univision, who had a huge vested interest in connecting their audiences across the country and having those audiences across the country see themselves as one market."

'Latino' as Alternative to 'Hispanic'

While Hispanic may have utility, the term has been criticized for highlighting Spain, which colonized much of Latin America. Some have offered "Latino" as an alternative. This term refers to those from Latin America, meaning it includes Brazil but not Spain.

The word existed long before the 1960s. But Ramón A. Gutiérrez, a Preston & Sterling Morton Distinguished Service Professor of United States history at the University of Chicago, explains that it was previously a Spanish-language word that came from Latino America, which Colombian writer José María Torres Caicedo helped popularize.

"Latino is short for Latino Americano," he says. "And it's the result of what happens between 1808 and 1821 as the Latin American countries become independent."

In the second half of the 19th century, the abbreviated words " hispano" and " latino" were in use in California among Spanish speakers, but eventually, other terms replaced them. By 1920, they had "virtually disappeared," Gutiérrez writes.

The term Latino gradually re-emerged in English, appearing in books and even in a 1970 White House diary entry by Claudia "Lady Bird" Johnson. In another early example, a March 17, 1973 issue of the Black Panther Party's newspaper described a program drawn up by an "action group composed of Blacks, Latinos and Whites." By 2000, Latino was on the census, with the question, "Is this person Spanish/Hispanic/Latino?"

Though Latino deemphasized the connection to Spain, some still rejected the term as it attempted to group several distinct cultures into one. For example, a popular bumper sticker declaring, "Don't Call Me Hispanic, I'm Cuban!" circulated in Miami during the early 1990s, according to Mora. In many cases, those who didn't want to identify as Hispanic or Latino chose nationality.

A 2019 survey by the Pew Research Center found that 47 percent of respondents most often describe themselves by their family's country of origin, while 39 percent use the terms Latino or Hispanic and 14 percent most often describe themselves as American.

Some Mexican-Americans Embrace 'Chicano'

For some Mexicans who shunned Latino and Hispanic, this meant turning to the word "Chicano."

There are a few theories about the origins of Chicano, including that it comes from mexicano (pronounced meshicano), a word that some "groups of Nahuas (Indigenous speakers of Nahuatl) began calling their language," writes David Bowles, an author and professor at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley.

Another possibility is that Chicano is a result of hypocorism. "It's basically using baby talk," Bowles says. "If you think about nicknames, Spanish nicknames, if you're Ignacio, you're called 'Nacho.' Graciela, you're called 'Chela.' It's possible that that could be some type of hypocorism behind the change from mexicano to Chicano-a playful kind of thing."

One of the first mentions of Chicano in print is in Spanish-language newspaper La Crónica in 1911, where it was used as a slur against "less cultured" Mexican Americans and recent immigrants. But by the 1960s, the word had changed. While not every Mexican or Mexican American would use the term, it gained traction, including among Mexican Americans who were fighting for civil rights.

"Because the word was in regular use at that time," Bowles says, "it was kind of this way of reclaiming the slur and using it for a political Latinx identity."

'Latinx' Emerges as Gender-Neutral Term

Spanish is a gendered language. If there is a group made up of women, they can be described as "ellas." If there is a group with men and women, it defaults to the masculine (ellos instead of ellas). The word "Latino" follows this convention, labeling nouns as either masculine or feminine. For those who fall outside the gender binary, this word fails to represent them, which is where the gender neutral "Latinx" comes into play.

Much like the other words used to describe those of Latin American descent, Latinx has faced some pushback-from arguments that it's difficult to pronounce to the Real Academia Española, the institution tasked with maintaining the consistency of the Spanish language, saying it's unnecessary. Some even argued non-Latino whites imposed the word on Latinos.

Bowles argues against this notion. "White people did not make up Latinx," he says. "It was queer Latinx people... They are the ones who used the word. Our little subgroup of the community created that. It was created by English-speaking U.S. Latinx people for use in English conversation."

Though it's unclear when or how it began, it's mostly tied to the early 2000s, with it reportedly appearing on Google Trends in 2004. There are a few possibilities about how the word came to be. One theory is that Latin American protests inspired the word. From the 1970s to the 1990s, as feminists protested, they would X out words ending in "OS" to "visually... reject the notion that the default is the masculine," Bowles says. It could have also been a nod to the use of X during the civil rights movement in the United States.

Despite an August 2021 Gallup poll finding that only 4 percent of Hispanic Americans use Latinx, it's a term that gained momentum through the 2010s and 2020s, cropping on TV shows and in politics.

Fact Check

We strive for accuracy and fairness. But if you see something that doesn't look right, click here to contact us! HISTORY reviews and updates its content regularly to ensure it is complete and accurate.

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Latino, Hispanic, Latinx, Chicano: The History Behind the Terms | HISTORY

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The effort to coin a term to describe a wildly diverse group of Americans has long stirred controversy.

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Fleeing prosecution in El Salvador, 16-year-old Maria, her older sister Julia, their little brother Oscar, and a young man, Tomas, are nailed into a crate and transported with a load of vegetables from Mexico to Chicago. When they arrive in the city, their struggle to make a new life begins in earnest as they try to earn a living and yet remain "invisible" in order to avoid arrest and deportation. Despite their ordeals, hope and love can still be found, especially in the stories and drawings Maria creates to lift the family's spirits, drawing on their native culture to find meaning in a new and vastly different society. This powerful, uplifting story of triumph over incredible odds was originally commissioned by Lifeline theatre in Chicago. Highly recommended for ages ten to adult.

Reflection:
The Journey of the Sparrows is the next play in my theatre class. Our Theatre Troupe will create personal maps, and they will interview parents, friends, and family members who have experienced the process of immigration. Unfortunately, my students at Doral Academy, mostly with origins in Latino America, ignore many of the cultural aspects their parents had to live when they became immigrants. I also have to navigate that the non-political academic environment significantly protects the school's administration. As a theatre teacher, I believe that all theatre act is a political acts in the sense of society and civilization. However, I am pretty aware that, especially after the 2016 elections, the word political in the USA is attached to government power and political parties.
Nevertheless, I cannot escape the priority that I should help create a bridge that closes the cultural gap between the parents and guardians and the students. As a dad, as a Colombian married to a Brazilian, my daughters also experience a multicultural upbringing where you are from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. This status of cultural identity is the core of the work of the play. We are not our traumas or even our past, we are our memories, but we are also much more than that. We are our Now.

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Synopsis

Fleeing prosecution in El Salvador, 16-year-old Maria, her older sister Julia, their little brother Oscar, and a young man, Tomas, are nailed into a crate and transported with a load of vegetables from Mexico to Chicago. When they arrive in the city, their struggle to make a new life begins in earnest as they try to earn a living and yet remain "invisible" in order to avoid arrest and deportation. Despite their ordeals, hope and love can still be found, especially in the stories and drawings Maria creates to lift the family's spirits, drawing on their native culture to find meaning in a new and vastly different society. This powerful, uplifting story of triumph over incredible odds was originally commissioned by Lifeline theatre in Chicago. Highly recommended for ages ten to adult.

Notes

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Details

Status
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Type of Show Full-length Play

Product Code J32000

Cast Size 7

Min. Royalty Rate $85/perf

Cost $9.95

Approx. Run Time 70 min

Categories

ISBN(13) 9780871297952

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Fleeing prosecution in El Salvador, 16-year-old Maria, her older sister Julia, their little brother Oscar, and a young man, Tomas, are nailed into a crate and transported with a load of vegetables from Mexico to Chicago. When they arrive in the city, thei

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The framework elaborated by Bloom and his collaborators consisted of six major categories: Knowledge, Comprehension, Application, Analysis, Synthesis, and Evaluation. The categories after Knowledge were presented as “skills and abilities,” with the understanding that knowledge was the necessary precondition for putting these skills and abilities into practice.

Reflection:

Bloom's Taxonomy framework prevails over the other Instructional Design systems because it is the one that seems to be the closest to human development. The revision of the system looks pretty accurate from my point of view.

The transition of the old vocabulary to the revised one seems to be more accurate:

Revised Bloom's taxonomy
Remember
Understand
Apply
Analyze
Evaluate
Create

I like this system because it takes the shape of a vehicle in constant evolution and change. It is very challenging for me to find a framework that simultaneously includes all the performing arts aspects: the individual and ensemble categories. Bloom's Taxonomy seems to provide the opportunity to have all the elements of the social phenomena.

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In 1956, Benjamin Bloom with collaborators Max Englehart, Edward Furst, Walter Hill, and David Krathwohl published a framework for categorizing educational goals: Taxonomy of Educational Objectives.

Familiarly known as Bloom's Taxonomy, this framework has been applied by generations of K-12 teachers, college and university instructors and professors in their teaching.

The framework elaborated by Bloom and his collaborators consisted of six major categories: Knowledge, Comprehension, Application, Analysis, Synthesis, and Evaluation. The categories after Knowledge were presented as "skills and abilities," with the understanding that knowledge was the necessary precondition for putting these skills and abilities into practice.

The Revised Taxonomy (2001)

While each category contained subcategories, all lying along a continuum from simple to complex and concrete to abstract, the taxonomy is popularly remembered according to the six main categories.

A group of cognitive psychologists, curriculum theorists and instructional researchers, and testing and assessment specialists published in 2001 a revision of Bloom's Taxonomy with the title A Taxonomy for Teaching, Learning, and Assessment. This title draws attention away from the somewhat static notion of "educational objectives" (in Bloom's original title) and points to a more dynamic conception of classification.

The authors of the revised taxonomy underscore this dynamism, using verbs and gerunds to label their categories and subcategories (rather than the nouns of the original taxonomy). These "action words" describe the cognitive processes by which thinkers encounter and work with knowledge.

Course Objectives

Bloom's Taxonomy is a hierarchical classification of the different levels of thinking, and should be applied when creating course objectives. Course objectives are brief statements that describe what students will be expected to learn by the end of the course. Many instructors have learning objectives when developing a course. However, many instructors do not write learning objectives. The full power of learning objectives is realized when the learning objectives are explicitly stated. Writing clear learning objectives are critical to creating and teaching a course.

Evolution and Application

Read this Ultimate Guide to gain a deep understanding of Bloom's taxonomy, how it has evolved over the decades and how it can be effectively applied in the learning process to benefit both educators and learners.

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Blooms Taxonomy :: Resource for Educators

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A resource for educators or institutions utilizing Bloom's Taxonomy to structure the development or modification of curriculum and/or courses

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This collection of animated short stories spans several genres, including science-fiction, fantasy, horror, and comedy. World-class animation creators bring captivating stories to life in the form of a unique and visceral viewing experience. The animated anthology series includes tales that explore alternate histories, energy for robots in a post-apocalyptic city, and a plot for world domination by super-intelligent yogurt. Among the show's executive producers is Oscar-nominated director David Fincher.

Reflection:
Love, Death, + Robots are a postapocalyptic metaphor for the decadence of our civilization. During the three seasons already released on Netflix, the writers create characters that show the deconstruction of society. The lessons are not manichaeistics. We do not worry about right or wrong. They are only decisions, and the decisions create the fate of the characters. The same way how the greeks saw the sense of Tragedy and Comedy. Sometimes the characters are inevitably facing their destruction due to their actions. The ineffable journey of our civilization seems to be articulated in this animated series of robots facing Love, Death, and Destiny.

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Top Rated TV #220 | Won 5 Primetime Emmys. Another 4 wins & 7 nominations. See more awards "

Storyline

Love, Death + Robots is a 5-time Emmy winning animation anthology series produced by Blur Studio. Launched in March of 2019 on Netflix, Love, Death + Robots delivers a variety of style and story unlike anything else, spanning the genres of science fiction, fantasy, comedy, horror, and more. Created by Tim Miller with David Fincher as executive producer, the series brings together a global team of directors and animation studios to push and expand the medium. Eighteen shorts in all, Love, Death + Robots has something for everyone.

Did You Know?

Trivia

Netflix's adults-only animated anthology series Love, Death & Robots has been executively produced by David Fincher and Tim Miller See more "

User Reviews

Details

Release Date:

15 March 2019 (USA)

Also Known As:

Love, Death & Robots

Company Credits

Technical Specs

See full technical specs "

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Love, Death & Robots (TV Series 2019- ) - IMDb

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Top Rated TV #220 | Won 5 Primetime Emmys. Another 4 wins & 7 nominations. See more awards " Love, Death + Robots is a 5-time Emmy winning animation anthology series produced by Blur Studio.

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"Three years later, during one of the most gruesome episodes of the Colombian civil war, right-wing paramilitaries infamously terrorized a village on the Pacific coast by playing football with the severed head of Marino López, a peasant who had been accused of aiding the guerrillas. Some say that this practice was fairly common in the early 2000s."

"In Colombia, most massacres were committed in the football fields of dusty towns like this one, and all the fear and tragedy that this red dirt has witnessed heighten the symbolic value of the event that has just ended. Even 90 minutes of reconciliation can mark a revival in the heart of a battered society that, decade after decade, has repeatedly lost hope. Now footballs, not heads, are rolling again on the pitch. The beautiful game has done it again."

Reference:

Iriarte, R. (2022). When football transcends factions. When Football Transcends Factions by Ramón Iriarte (Works That Work magazine). Retrieved May 28, 2022, from https://worksthatwork.com/9/the-reconciliation-match

Reflection:
The fascination with Football (Soccer) in Latino America is profound in our culture. The football fields are filled with players and fans that have connected in something that represents the fears and hopes of millions of people. I remember seeing on the news that the guerrillas and the Colombian army stopped fighting for two hours so both bands could see the game on T.V.

Also, politicians and governments know they need to show appreciation and success with their national teams if they want to get good approvals. But why?

I believe this is coming from the identity of the Oppressed. The field is an equalizer where the identified Oppressor and Oppressed could exchange. Worl cup games such as England and Brazil generate a real example. Europeans will go for England, but Africans and Latinos will root for Brazil. If Brazil wins, the identity of the Oppressed will now transmute into the one of the Oppressor and vice-versa. When you give the Oppressed such "Joy," they will gloat for years. It is all a game of power and, unfortunately, in the end, two sides of the same coin.

In this article, former enemies now play for healing on the same ground that served as a canvas for killings. It does make a good opportunity for a picture in the news, but again, the Hard History was real. Let us see how the narrative changes with the decades.

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Works That Work, No.9,

At its best, sport brings people together in friendly, respectful competition. It can be part of the healing process that makes age-old enemies into neighbours and maybe even friends.

On Christmas Eve, 1914, in a spontaneous act of humanity, German and British troops fighting on the Western Front ceased hostilities, walked into the barbed-wired no man’s land separating the two sides and spent part of a day together. They found common ground in Christmas songs, cigarettes and—most famously—football. Varying accounts describe everything from an enormous pick-up game in which several hundred soldiers took part and where military helmets were laid out as goalposts, to an organised match between the 133rd Royal Saxon Regiment and Scottish troops, for which a reverend acted as referee.

However it really played out, that football passed between the trenches became a strikingly bright anecdote in one of the most violent periods of modern history. But that remarkable ‘Christmas Truce’ match was not the only time of conflict in which people turned to football and its near-universal appeal. The game has often taken on a political character, aiding efforts to reach detente between warring sides, or even flaring tensions in bitter rivalries.

The Serranía del Perija, in the northeast of Colombia, was home to the campsites of the Caribe Bloc of the FARC-EP for decades. Just a few years ago, combat and bombardments were a daily occurrence in these mountains. (Photos: Ramón Iriarte)

For the past five decades Colombia has been immersed in a bloody civil war involving the government, the FARC (Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia People’s Army) and crime syndicates, and while the nation’s social fabric has been ripped apart by the violence in many ways, soccer has always been much more than the national sport. In fact, it’s one of the very few things over which all Colombians are willing to put aside their political, cultural, social, and economic differences and be on the same side, wearing the same yellow shirt, for 90 minutes.

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Football is somehow fundamentally tied in with the Colombian identity, and just as it has often been a source of joy that spans generations, it has also been symbolically present throughout the country’s violent history. Andres Escobar, a young football star, was assassinated after scoring an own goal that led to the elimination of the national team from the 1994 World Cup, a testament to the limitless cruelty of the drug cartel gangsters. Three years later, during one of the most gruesome episodes of the Colombian civil war, right-wing paramilitaries infamously terrorised a village on the Pacific coast by playing football with the severed head of Marino López, a peasant who had been accused of aiding the guerrillas. Some say that this practice was fairly common in the early 2000s.

Yezid won third place in the chess tournament of the ‘Reintegration Olympics’ organised by the mayor’s office of the town of Fonseca. Like many of the guerrillas, Yezid plays chess during his free time, honing his skills. (Photo: Ramón Iriarte)

In 2016, however, everything is different. At 4:30 AM, in complete darkness, in a remote mountainous region in the north of Colombia near the border with Venezuela, fighters from the Caribe Bloc of the FARC emerge from their jungle hideouts into a clearing and start falling into formation facing one of the group’s commanders. Instructions for the day are given, and guard and kitchen duties assigned, as the first rays of daylight shine upon the steel receivers of the rebel rifles, US-made M16s and old Soviet AK-47s, for the most part. Then the formation breaks.

Wartime protocol is still followed by all rebel units across the country, but life changed radically for the guerrillas the moment Colombian president Juan Manuel Santos and the FARC secretariat signed a definitive bilateral ceasefire agreement last June. Throughout an arduous four-year-long peace process held in Havana, Cuba, the number of combats and bombardments dropped dramatically, and the guerrillas began to prepare for their transition to civil life, away from the rigorous military code that shaped the world’s oldest revolutionary insurgency and many of the guerrillas’ lives for the past 50 years.

Albeiro, wearing Colombia’s national team jersey, grew up on his father’s ranch, herding sheep and cattle. One day, government-sponsored paramilitaries came to his home and murdered his uncle and three of his baby cousins after accusing them of collaborating with the guerrillas. Albeiro joined the rebels soon after that, when he was 18. (Photo: Ramón Iriarte)

Later in the morning the sun shines bright over a rudimentary mountainside football field built by the rebels near the campsite (an unthinkable sight during times of war, only a few months ago). The goalposts are wooden, and the pitch is sharply slanted, but the bright-red clay soil has an elegant look, reminiscent of the tennis courts at Roland Garros. A group of guerrillas marches onto the pitch and a tattered bright-orange ball begins to roll.

According to a young combatant whose nom de guerre is Jaime, since the peace agreement was ratified by Congress, all of the FARC’s units have begun regrouping in areas like this one around Colombia to begin the demobilisation process. These demobilisation zones were designated in conjunction with the government and the United Nations’ mission to Colombia, and they are gradually becoming neutral grounds, where it is hoped that long-held blood feuds will dissipate little by little.

Research has pointed to British engineers hired to build railways in Colombia at the dawn of the 20th century as the forerunners of Colombian soccer. They are reported to have brought the first leather soccer balls in 1903 and taught locals how to play the game. More than a century later, soccer remains one of the most popular activities in Colombia, and a cultural reference point for Colombians from all walks of life. (Photo: Ramón Iriarte)

Jaime joined the FARC when he was a law and philosophy student at a prestigious university in one of Colombia’s coastal capitals and has been living in campsites for seven years now. He’s in charge of the rebels’ radio station and communications strategy in this area. ‘It’s good that they’re training,’ says Jaime, ‘so they don't make us look bad in the big game. I scored four goals in yesterday’s match, but I messed up my ankle so I can’t play for now.’

He’s referring to the grand finale of an Olympics organised by the mayor’s office of the municipality of Fonseca (the jurisdiction nearest to the campsite) to promote the peace process and provide spaces for reconciliation between the guerrillas, the armed forces, and the population. Volleyball, chess and athletics tournaments in which both guerrillas and civilians took part were held in the adjacent village of Conejo, but by far the most awaited event of the festivities, as always, is the closing football match in the town’s main field. The tourney was branded El Partido de la Reconciliación (the Reconciliation Match), and even the mayor announced he would play.

As the football practice comes to an end, a group of UN Ceasefire Monitoring and Verification Mechanism delegates enters the campsite on a routine visit; Jaime mentions that the UN has also agreed to join the reconciliation match. I approach a charismatic delegate as he greets the guerrillas and receives a cup of coffee from a female fighter. His name is Julio, and he volunteered to leave his house in the Spanish Pyrenees and come to Colombia for six months to oversee the process. He thinks that providing spaces for interaction between rebels, civilians and the government is key: ‘even more symbolic than having United Nations members playing football with the guerrillas is seeing people from the government sharing the pitch with the rebels. That alone is a big deal.’

Maria was born in a small settlement in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, near Colombia’s Caribbean coast. In 2001, she and her sister joined the FARC’s 59th Front after government-sponsored paramilitaries violently drove their family from their home. ‘My folks are old now, and after all these years of running and hiding, they’re still poor. A whole life in poverty,’ says Maria when asked about the whereabouts of her family.  (Photo: Ramón Iriarte)

The day of the game arrives. People walk the dusty, unpaved streets of Conejo, and gather around the football field. Dozens of kids kick tattered balls around, and the players of the highly anticipated game begin to arrive. A number of unarmed guerrillas in civilian clothes chat with the villagers and take pictures with their mobile phones. The mayor, Misael Velázquez, makes an entrance surrounded by his staff, and several police officers in uniform follow. Then the UN delegates arrive, wearing their distinctive sky-blue caps and vests.

Jerseys are distributed and the participant delegations merge before being divided into two teams, a white team called Mayor’s Office and an electric-orange one called Integration for Peace. The players march onto the pitch, and amidst the bright, tacky uniforms, with the exception of a few recognisable faces, it becomes very hard to tell who is who. From the stands, a local veteran commentator introduces the event through a rusty mic wired to a huge and very loud speaker while the referee tosses a coin up in the air. Integration for Peace wins the kick-off.

The game starts without much action; only a handful of players have considerable skills, and the terrain is about as smooth and even as the surface of the moon. The crowd watches attentively, however, and there’s a collective amazement at this monumental moment: people who were, quite literally, trying to kill each other only a few months ago are now kicking passes, however lousy, to one another, laughing from the bench, and high-fiving over goals.

One of those spectators watching intently is police chief Fabián Pedraza, a seasoned officer who has undertaken many tasks in the force, including fighting in the counter-insurgency units of the Colombian police, directly targeting the guerrillas. He now commands the police in this region. Pedraza is not very jovial, but seems receptive. ‘This is a good thing,’ he says, referring to the football game. ‘It remains a special occasion because we’ve never seen anything like it before.’ His tone verges on the apathetic, but his presence here alone is significant. Given the long record of failed peace talks, repression, and political genocide in this country, the support of battle-scarred, mid-ranking members of the armed forces like Pedraza is crucial to the sustainability of the whole peace process.

The white team scores first, and people celebrate. Asked why he’s not playing, Pedraza argues that it would be hard to justify his presence on the pitch in the middle of the holiday season, the busiest time of the year for the police. ‘We can’t take time off for leisure right now, but I’d give this activity a good grade.’ His answer sounds convincing. He even gave an interview to the rebel radio station after the game.

Officer Elías Benitez, Pedraza’s bodyguard, listens in to our conversation as he watches the game with curiosity. Benitez, 22, has been with the police only three years, so he’s part of the first generation of officers in over five decades not to have to battle the FARC. ‘I grew up here, and my dad would tell me stories of the violent times, but I never had to combat the guerrillas.’ He speaks lightly, and I can tell he doesn’t hold any grudges. ‘It’s strange to see them walking around here, but it’s entertaining to chat with them. They also want to stop fighting… Living in the jungle for so many years must be tough.’

Next, on a 50-50 ball, Silfredo, a robust high-ranking FARC commander playing midfield is thrown to the ground by someone from the mayor’s delegation. The public cries, ‘Uhhhhh!’ in unison at the rough tackle, and the universe seems to stop completely for a strained second. Silfredo gets up and shakes the dust off. A rough welcome to civilian life, but the game carries on.

Yezid, a member of FARC’s 59th Front, posing between police officers Benitez and Eriquez, an unthinkable sight only a few months ago. The ‘Reconciliation Match’ was the first time that many guerrillas and members of the state forces saw each other outside the context of the conflict. (Photo: Ramón Iriarte)

Towards the end of the second half, Mayor Velázquez, young yet corpulent, is visibly exhausted, so he calls for a sub and heads for the bench. Velázquez is a member of a controversial political party named Opción Ciudadana (Citizen Option), several members of which were ousted from Congress on charges of corruption and accusations of ties to right-wing paramilitary organisations. The mayor himself has had public brushes with the FARC, who have accused him of negligence and fraudulent conduct.

I take a seat next to him and ask him why he agreed to get on the field with his enemies. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘once you step on the pitch, everybody is the same. You leave your prejudices behind and focus on scoring a goal. Sports aren’t only about health or fun; entire countries unite around their best players, and football is a great medium for reconciliation.’ The usual political spiel, but beyond the electoral interests, the fact of the matter is that this type of activity does have an integrating effect on the opposing factions and on the civilian population long caught in their crossfire.

On the football field, the dynamics of war are skewed; when the ball rolls, any sworn enmity becomes inconsistent, even absurd. Why football? Because ‘the beautiful game’, as Pelé dubbed it, has a special ability to demarcate a sacred space, one that renders all other concerns irrelevant. In this remote Colombian village everybody plays it and everybody loves it. Political barriers are transcended, the myths that feed antagonisms are undermined, and the other becomes humanised: a fraternising effect that doesn’t quite disappear once those magical 5,400 seconds have gone by.

Game time is up, and the referee’s whistle announces the end of the match. All the players then shoot a penalty kick, and everybody cheers for each other while cracking up at a handful of outrageously bad shots. Team colours and the official score count fade away with the last orange rays of sunlight, as a festive sentiment fills the air. It is almost like that historic Christmas Eve, a century ago in France.

In Colombia, most massacres were committed in the football fields of dusty towns like this one, and all the fear and tragedy that this red dirt has witnessed heighten the symbolic value of the event that has just ended. Even 90 minutes of reconciliation can mark a revival in the heart of a battered society that, decade after decade, has repeatedly lost hope. Now footballs, not heads, are rolling again on the pitch. The beautiful game has done it again.

Ramón Iriarte is a journalist and documentary filmmaker based in New York City and Bogotá. He’s covered social and environmental conflicts extensively throughout Latin America, and especially the war in his home country of Colombia.

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At its best, sport brings people together in friendly, respectful competition. Sometimes it can help to make enemies into friends.

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The Holy Week, a medieval tradition, includes real pain and blood every year in Colombia. Some congregation members will act on real and different forms of torture that resemble the ones described in the Bible regarding the Passion of Christ. Such tradition started in Spain and passed generation by generation to our Colombian culture in colonial times.

Reflection:

I was six or seven years old when my parents took me to see "Los Flagelantes" in Santo Tomas, a small town in Colombia. I remember images and sounds. I also remember the smell of the aguardiente, a traditional alcoholic beverage that someone else spits on the wounds to increase the pain of the flagellants. I remembered wondering about the reason for the voluntary torture. My mom explained that they asked God for a favor or a miracle, and they needed to do it to pay him back. I could not understand God's thirst for blood.

I kept asking questions and getting more confused until one image left me speechless. A child my age was carrying a giant cross. He was in shock. I asked my mom: "Why is that kid carrying that cross?" She explained that when the miracle is enormous, the flagellants will promise God that they will pain with suffering and pain and that their kids and their kids will do the same. A generational promise that two or three generations must keep.

I was furious.

Today, I feel this is an excellent example of the power of Oppression: Violence, Powerless, Cultural Imperialism, Exploration, and Marginalization. (González-Scott, C. 2022)

Reference:

González-Scott, C. (2022). Tools for social change: The five faces of oppression. Leadership for Educational Equity. Retrieved May 28, 2022, from https://educationalequity.org/blog/tools-social-change-five-faces-oppression

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A las 9 de la mañana de un Viernes Santo, Jorge Emilio Ariza le pide a su nieta más pequeña que le haga un 'mandado'. Obediente, la niña de abrigo rosado le entrega varias cuchillas con las que su abuelo pagará por un 'milagro'. Así lo cree él, que lleva más de 28 años dándose látigo. Así entiende ella a sus 7 años, aunque minutos más tarde no tenga valentía suficiente para ver a su moreno y canoso viejo ensangrentado.

"Lo hago por ella y para cumplirles a los ángeles. Hace un mes y medio mi nieta sufría de cólicos y ningún médico decía que era. Yo prometí que si Dios la curaba, me picaba", dice convencido Ariza, un tomasino de 59 años.

En su bolso tejido a mano, el hombre de bigote largo lleva una falda blanca con cruces negras pegadas, que es el pollerín usado por los flagelantes. Un gorro en forma de cono para ocultar identidades, conocido como capilote, y una botella de aguardiente o ron, para "soportar el dolor".

Colgado a su carro de venta de mangos, Ariza carga la disciplina, una cuerda gruesa que lleva siete bolas de parafina. En Santo Tomás ese es el número de la procesión de sus penitentes, una tradición rechazada por iglesia y que tiene sus inicios en la Edad Media.

Son siete pasos hacia adelante, tres atrás. Siete las cruces que deben visitar. Siete cortadas en la piel. Siete viernes santos. Siete las frases que Jesús pronunció antes de su suplicio en la cruz.

Este año fueron cerca de 30 penitentes que intentaron simular el viacrucis que vivió Jesucristo antes de ser crucificado. El 'calvario' comienza en el caño de Las Palomas, una trocha caliente tapizado en arena que quemó los pies de quienes se atrevieron a caminarlo descalzos. Finaliza después de dos kilómetros de paso lento y llanto, en el sector de la 'Vieja cruz', barrio Buena Esperanza .

La comitiva de 'fieles' despierta el morbo y la curiosidad en Santo Tomás. Cada año se toma la vía principal, La Amargura, adoquinada hace dos años. Mientras desfilan los de rostros cubiertos con sacos, los que cargan una cruz con corona de espinas y los que llevan en alto una copa de vino, cientos de espectadores se acomodan en las orillas de la vía para no perderse de la procesión con tinte de espectáculo.

Lo hacen por su madre, padre, amigos, familiares cercanos. Por la salud o superación de cualquier problema.

"Cada loco con su tema", se escucha desde el bordillo. "Es respetable, pero da dolor verlos", dicen otros. En cada cuadra hay críticas o respaldo. También hay sillas listas para ser alquiladas, venta de sopa de mondongo, bebidas y baratijas.

Incluso, la procesión es objetivo de turistas. Al municipio ubicado en la zona oriental del Atlántico, a la ribera del río Magdalena, arriban extranjeros para entender la tradición iniciada hace 155 años. Cruzada de piernas y brazos, una estadounidense pregunta a un tomasino por qué los penitentes deciden maltratarse.

"Es su forma de pagar por lo que Dios ha hecho por ellos", le responde el joven a la rubia de ojos azules.

Ante su mirada, algunos flagelantes caen arrodillados. Karen González, una ama de casa que estudió hasta octavo grado de bachillerato, ofreció una 'manda' de 10 años por su hijo, que hace cinco años sufrió de una malformación vascular ultravenosa.

Para agradecer por el milagro de un hijo sano, la mujer compra cada año una botella pequeña de vino tinto Cabernet Medalla Real y la deposita en una copa de vidrio, que carga con el brazo levantado durante todo acto. Mientras arrastra las piernas, sus familiares la persignan y calman su llanto.

Antes de unirse a la comanda, González explica que "el dolor es tanto que se deja de sentir el brazo". "Cuando te duele de verdad simplemente se deja de sentir", agrega la mujer, vestida de blanco.

Su 'manda' implica caminar hacia atrás. Faltando poco para llegar, al menos tres cruces, la súplica de González era "ya no más". "Me arden los pies, no puedo caminar", gimió la tomasina, quien agarraba a su hijo, de 18 años, por la mano.

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Flagelantes, una 'manda' medieval que se paga con sangre

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A las 9 de la mañana de un Viernes Santo, Jorge Emilio Ariza le pide a su nieta más pequeña que le haga un 'mandado'. Obediente, la niña de abrigo rosado le entrega varias cuchillas con las que su abuelo pagará por un 'milagro'. Así lo cree él, que lleva más de 28 años dándose látigo.

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Hasan Kwame Jeffries describes his experience while visiting James Madison's Home in Montpelier. He tells the story regarding the realization of how slave children built the bricks on the foundation of the beautiful home. He also provides a new perspective on George Santayana's words "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." All of this to frame the avoidance of telling and addressing the hard histories in our curriculums at school.

Reflection:

I decided to use this video as part of my Deep Dive because it was incredibly impactful to me. The reality of the children building the home of Madison was a surprise and showed me how much of the story is hidden to present a limited and biased perspective of History. Nevertheless, I did not realize until today how afraid I am to include the hard History in my class.

After soul searching for a long time, I believe the origin of the fear started with my process of immigration. I moved to the USA in 2003, and since then, I have defended my decision using aspects such as safety and freedom in my new home. In addition, I created a family, and I adopted the ideals of a democratic society or what I thought was a democratic society.

One by one, the experiences of immigration showed me that I am part of a racist community. I have worked hard and successfully in several aspects as an American Citizen, but the inferiority complex continues. I am afraid to expose my opposition to dogma; I am afraid of publicly defending the Critical race theory as a teacher; I am afraid my daughters will be segregated because they are Latinas from an immigrant dad.

I used to judge Latino American parents who do not allow their kids to speak Spanish in the USA. They want their kids to blend in with the "American Culture." Furthermore, I noticed that part of me wants to do the same today. Such complex of inferiority is the same one that praises the character of the oppressor, and it gives them a status of power over me and my History.

Today, I realized that I need to include my hard History to heal and liberate myself. My hard History is part of me, but it is not everything I am. Therefore, I should not deny it, and I should not wear it as a medal of honor. Intersectionality and Critical Race Theory should be included because it is part of our History. We need to know it, learn it, and discuss it to stop the current continuation.

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Confronting hard history | Hasan Kwame Jeffries | TEDxOhioStateUniversity

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“Like artistic and literary movements
are driven by imagination… Every
important social movement
reconfigures the world in the
imagination. What was obscured comes
forward, lies are revealed, memory
shaken, new delineations drawn over
the old maps: it is from this new way of
seeing the present that hope emerges
for the future… Let us begin to imagine
the worlds we would like to inhabit, the
long lives we will share, and the many
futures in our hands.”
- Susan Griffin

Reflection:
The author proposes a very passionate and interesting exploration of Radical Imagination as an option for a crossroads of inclusion and education. The visuals of the book are also very interesting. I believe the de-conceptualization of the terms should be exposed with text, images, sounds, and forms. The crossroads of the Intersectionality are the crucial elements of the Interplay. The author provides several examples of these crossing roads. We are in a relation, in juxtapositions, in parallel lines, and in crossroads. The explorations require a fourth-dimensional perspective, so to speak. Something closer to a cultural quantum physics where each particle represents the identities of each individual.

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"Art forms and artists from diverse sociocultural groups that are incompatible with the loci of Western art forms are rarely discussed. For example, art as a component of the role of physical or mental healer would generally not be discussed."

Reflection:

In this article, the author proposed a human academic relationship to counter the segregation in education. While working at a Waldorf School, I learned the value of celebrating the different social, religious, and cultural ceremonies worldwide. Understanding these rituals allowed my students and I to create awareness regarding the different ways we, as a society, honor Life, birth, and death. Honestly, I am still trying to understand if it is possible to create a classroom environment that represents social equality under the current conditions of standardized tests and the politicization of the schools. However, the teacher, again, should be the mentor of such human relationships of acceptance, care, and kindness.

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Multicultural Art Education and Social Reconstruction Patricia L. Stuhr

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“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”
― Fernando Pessoa

Reflection
I am part of a Colombian, American, and Brazilian family. We moved from language to language and culture by culture. It gives us the sense of being nomads who don't have one home, place, or origin. Such a state of immigration has increased my desire to understand Identity. The search for Identity led me to realize that we are not one; we are many and contain multitudes. I also learned that Death is not the opposite of Life; it is the opposite of Birth; since then, I have experienced many deaths and many births in one amazing Life, such as Pessoa.

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“When I choose to see the good side of things, I’m not being naive. It is strategic and necessary. It’s how I learned to survive through everything.” — Waymond, ‘Everything Everywhere All at Once’

Reflection:

My main research topic is the INTERSECTIONALITY of every human in this world, specifically the connection between the teacher and the students; this recent movie positively impacted my creative self. The capacity for communion between our different bodies: memories, personal narratives, dreams, emotions, thoughts, and behaviors, for example, is the frame for my study. The subject matter is the body. This movie has created a beautiful narrative of such work and understanding.

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My students and I worked on the relationships between Mothers and Daughters using the language of dance and song. However, I decided to include this video in my investigation because we purposefully broke the technique usually demanded by the Traditional Flamengo.

Reflection:

While rehearsing this piece, my student suffered several episodes of anxiety. I am a theatre teacher, but I am not a Flamenco expert. I was not giving her any notes. All of the judgment was in her mind while dancing. She had developed an imaginary master that was not possible to please. This experience reminded me of the masters in my head. I noticed the "Indoctrination" of the masters. I jokingly explained to my student that I saw I wanted to make dead people happy. We looked at each other and laughed; we decided that we would "disrespect" the masters, and she will dance without thinking of making them happy. To our surprise, it was tough to do. Every single time she cannot break her conditioning. We experience lots of moments of fear. In the end, the hard work paid off: For once, during this video, she was able to stay in the present: just her, without any technique or indoctrination, accessible and unique.

On the other hand, the singer in the video has never sung Flamenco before. So the journey was entirely different for her. She had no conditioning or technique to follow. Instead, she just learned the song and performed it with enthusiasm and care—no struggles in her case.

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0:00 / 2:22•Watch full video

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The Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá (Spanish: Catedral de Sal de Zipaquirá) is an underground Roman Catholic church built within a salt mine 200 meters (660 ft) underground in a halite mountain near the city of Zipaquirá, in Cundinamarca, Colombia. It is a tourist destination and place of pilgrimage in the country. The temple at the bottom has three sections, representing the birth, life, and death of Jesus. The icons, ornaments, and architectural details are hand carved in the halite rock.

Reflection:
While walking in the Cathedral of Salt, the magnificent church seemed to summarize its power in the symbol of the empty tomb. I was walking and debating about the cultural destruction during the colonization of Colombia. When I saw this image, I could not help to relate to it. The empty tomb represented at that moment the absence of past and culture. Who was there? Was it god? Was it a human? Aren't we both divine and mortal?