Intense — full of life — big
by Kristen Kuriga
When friends have asked me about my time in Colombia, my initial response is intense — full of life — big. In the span of ten days I witnessed and experienced the context of the conflict in Colombia, its effect on youth, and the creative ways that ACOOC and the Red Juvenil have developed an alternative path for youth built on the principles of nonviolence, conscientious objection, and art. And I met people who inspired me and filled me with a sense of possibility and resilience. In the midst of armed conflict and daily violence, poverty, and the repression of dissident voices, the youth that I encountered emanated love, life, joy, and celebration. What was at the core of this? I saw community, self-created family, vision, play, and most of all creativity!
I have been sitting with the question — why art? Why is it so powerful? In a skit performed in an art and education breakout group, each person expressed why art is their chosen form of resistance and transformation. They shouted out words such as seductive — persuasive — expressive — fun. In a workshop with the Red Juvenil in Medellin, one member spoke about how all of the young people in his community were picking up guns, and he chose to pick up a musical instrument. That his work is to create the possibility for young people to pick up a paint brush, an instrument, or to dance, instead of picking up a gun.
These words shattered something open in me. Violence is an expression, and art is an expression. Art can be the expression of an alternative to violence. Another member of the Red Juvenil shared that making art allows youth to “imagine an alternative.” I wonder, without our creativity, is it possible to believe that there is another way — the way of nonviolence in a militarized society.
Does the love of making art urge youth to choose an alternative to violence? Over and over again, I heard youth from both ACOOC and the Red Juvenil say that the reason they are a conscientious objector is because they want to create art, to dance, to play, not to kill. They want to create, not destroy. And although there are many intellectual and political reasons to support nonviolence, I wonder if the love of art is what keeps youth true to their conscience in the face of the consequences of choosing a life of nonviolence. In Colombia, the are many consequences for conscientious objection. For men over the age of 18 there is mandatory military service. If they choose not to serve, they will not get their military ID, and without it they cannot be employed or graduate from the university. In addition, youth face community round-ups, curfews, threats, and recruitment from paramilitary groups and armed guerillas. Under all of these conditions, there are people who are choosing another path, and I can’t help but contemplate the role that art, creativity, and the imagination plays in developing this movement of nonviolence.
