Trauma Informed education: My personal journey navigating inter-generational trauma
Benvinuta! I feel a burdensome privilege in sharing this story while those in Corsica fight for their rights while under french colonial rule. Cantu cun voi! Far from the island, far from the mainland, born in the free country you deserve.
As a student almost complete with my degree and considering another, I find myself in positions of both leadership and integrity. Leadership among fellow students in a position of office and leadership in integrity of being. It is imperative that we be able to stand up for ourselves so we can stand up for others. To be transparent with oneself, this is where ideas can be harnessed and mountains can be moved. With a humble pebble, one ripple cascades a series of events that cannot be reset to its original state but transformed into a tide of change that brings with it the full force of its weighted fervor.
BIOGRAPHY:
I am a second generation Corsican American. Words I have been for one reason or another scared of sharing but never ashamed of saying. My parents divorced when I was young with my remaining parent not quite understanding of how being Corsican was different from being French. I briefly learned what this difference meant when my American parent enrolled me in immersion school as a child, where I didn’t stay long, separated from the other kids for additional lessons and not understanding that Corsica had its own language until I was older, yet still knowing it was different. By the time I reached high school, I remember thinking, why should I learn French? Perhaps this is the American attitude in me that encourages this but nevertheless, I feel how I feel.
I visited Corsica when I turned 18. The locals I stayed with were kind and welcoming, albeit inquisitive. Far from the stereotypes I had been fed. Many years later I travelled to France to meet my other parent who, with Corsican polyphony playing in the background, absolutely denied my request to learn the language and culture. While there, I sat confused and honestly angry about why they would refuse this. It was later I would understand why, although I vehemently disagree with the reasoning. Theirs was the last generation to learn Corsican while it was illegal. Learning some of the history of Corsica and what people have gone through has led me to a compelling thought: Why do I feel undeserving of learning about a culture I have a right to know about?
There is an entire generation and maybe even two that, for a myriad of reasons, have decided to not pass on the culture to their children. As the current movement of youth fight for their rights, assaulted by french state riot police with LBD bullets aimed at the head (seriously injuring children) and the usage of water cannons and grenade-like weapons, I am moved to share that while our parents or grandparents may not share with us, the passion to progress with this newfound self-discovery has grown and not just within myself, but more than one of the younger generations. From an American perspective I feel robbed of any legitimacy to call myself Corsican. Slowly I'll find ways to learn the language and have the ability to travel there again. Maybe someday I will feel like I can have that legitimacy.
Freedom almost feels taken for granted as it’s so natural to us yet central to our being, and only upon reflection of what would be to not have it can one appreciate its existence.
It is in this capstone experience where I accidentally stumbled upon inter-generational trauma and what it means to me.
“Struggle is a never ending process. Freedom is never really won, you earn it and win it in every generation”. -Coretta Scott King
THE IDEA
THE STUDY