The Liberation of Immigrant Memories Interned
The Travels of A Kenya-born, Ethiopian Canadian and Sundrop YEG-GA
In March 2017, the carving called Sundrop YEG-GA began its journeys with T.M., an enthusiastic Arts student majoring in Political Science and minoring in History. While her family is originally from Ethiopia, T.M. was born in an United Nations refugee camp in Kenya, and soon thereafter her family moved to Canada. T.M. is now a Canadian citizen and has endeavoured to make her mark upon local and national affairs. After the completion of the most recent federal election, she interned for one of Edmonton's Members for the Canadian Parliament, an experience that only buttressed her commitment to international affairs and the rights of women on the Global landscape in particular. While devoting considerable time to family matters and her studies, T.M. volunteered and now interns for the Edmonton chapter for WIIS (Women for International Security, Canada). This latest internship has provided her with the opportunity to expand her interaction with a host of stakeholders within the Edmonton area, most of whom span the socio-economic, political, and ethnic spectrum which illuminates the capital city and its environs.
The stone for this sculpture was found in and around a bank of the North Saskatchewan River, not too away far from the Homeglen School of One in Rossdale, Edmonton. The carving itself is unique and contests the parameters of the YEG-GA series. Meanwhile, the title of the piece is directly derived from the positive and inspirational outlook maintained by T.M. throughout her everday experiences. Sundrop YEG-GA is dedicated to the individual historical agency, accomplishments and contributions of female students of Political Economy and International Relations, especially those of them who embrace their Ethiopian heritage in Canada.
Accounts Received: May 26, 2017
Reminiscing Over a Brief Visit to the “Motherland”
Edmonton, May 26, 2017. 23°/8°C.
After people confirm their pre-conceived and visible facet of my identity – “not from here” – I’m always asked if I’ve ever returned “home”. And it always takes me a second to frame my answer because of my uncertainty. Ethiopia is a home that I have familial and cultural ties to as a person. But, beyond that, my lack of true sentimental attraction to the country means a loose bond retained more out of a sense of familial duty.
Growing up in a Refugee Camp creates an emotional dichotomy within a person where you feel like you are split into two people: one belonging, and the other an outsider. These "unsettled moving images" feature the entrance tickets from the museum I visited while in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and keys from the house we briefly stayed at during our family trip. When I am asked about “home”, these are the first glimpses of my personal memories that come to mind.
Accounts Received: April 9, 2017
Sister Communication
Edmonton, April 9, 2017. .7° /-2° C.
Today, we acknowledged that perhaps there is something wrong with my younger half-sister. Now two years old, she was born in Ethiopia and recently immigrated here with her mother to reunite with my father. Her mother recounts memories from Ethiopia regarding how she would talk and communicate endlessly with her family. Here she is silent. It's almost been a year and she's still silent for the most part.
My sister is unable to grasp any English words and understand simple questions. If you ask her to tell you her name, she'll run to her mother or give you a blank stare. My father thinks she prefers her own solitude, and is just being stubborn at times. My father's wife thinks the move here has been both a cultural and a personal shock to her, one that has affected her ability to adjust to new settings and communicate her thoughts.
Account Received: March 28, 2017
Fun Read, Sad Vacancy
Edmonton, March 28, 2017. 11° /-3° C.
I just picked up Sundrop YEG-GA right in front of HUB BOOKS, an establishment completely empty and closed for business. Even though I've never actually entered this particular bookstore when it was open I found its closure sad. Small bookstores are disappearing throughout the country.
When I was younger, I often read for fun. Now I read for school.
