Being a Founding Global Citizen Year Fellow has enabled me to see the world with a global perspective. Realizing both how small the world is and how much I don’t yet know, I feel like a man of the 21^st century—because I view the 21^st century as an era of global unification (for better or for worse) and my time in Senegal gave me a taste of just what that unity means.

Living in a completely different culture and way of life allowed me to look at my upbringing with new eyes, and see how far I’ve come.  Anyone who does a Global Citizen Year gains new insight on growing up in United States of America, whether they grew up “at-risk” like me or not.  Ever since my return in May I have noticed one common thread in my conversations that wasn’t there before: I view things from a completely different perspective than those around me.  I notice that once this new perspective seeps into a conversation, one of two things results: either it deflates discourse by poking holes in our elaborate American constructs or it adds life and fervor to the dialogue. No matter who you are or where you come from, having an experience like GCY will give you an awareness that takes your curiosity far beyond where you thought it could be, and sets you apart from those who haven’t had the same opportunity.  You just have to be open to it.

Beyond giving me perspective on my own life, Senegal was important to me culturally. To be a young black male and have a life-changing experience on the West African coast—from where I know I descend—was a paramount to my growth.  It was not only a cultural immersion, but also an intellectual investigation of pre-colonial history and the other side of the slave trade, thanks to the rigorous academic research elements of GCY and the sharp intellect of the Senegalese.  It was also the first time I ever saw myself as a member of the African diaspora as opposed to just another kid trying make it out of the hood.  I saw that I am bigger than just black.

I’m someone who likes to do a lot of thinking on a regular basis, but my apprenticeship was an intellectual workout every day. I remember watering tomatoes early in the morning before the sun came up with thoughts of underdevelopment and neo-colonial policies running through my head from the graduate level research articles I had read the night before, courtesy of our program manager. I feel so much more prepared for not only the demands of academia but also to be an active agent in pursuing the things I care about.  This is one of the main reasons I didn’t go straight to college after GCY. I took another internship in Albany, New York teaching at a private alternative school where I develop my own curriculum and pedagogy and teach critical thinking to middle schoolers. I probably wouldn’t have taken that opportunity to further cultivate my passion for teaching if I hadn’t done GCY.  It gave me the confidence to take charge of my education and helped me realize that I can control what I want it to look like. Now, when I enter college in the fall, I won’t be another passive learner but rather a passionate practitioner who can contribute something of substance to the conversation.

My friends say I came back from Senegal more focused than I have ever been. Being away for so long opened and stretched my mind out so much that I could inspect exactly where I needed to focus my energies. GCY didn’t change my aspirations, but it helped me polish and refine my skills. And being in Senegal gave me a maturity to pursue my passions from more than just one angle. Thinking about issues and problems on such a sweeping scale, with so many layers and complexities, planning for my own future now seems a whole lot easier than ever before.

Every year, Global Citizen Year chooses a group of young Americans to spend nine months working as apprentices in rural communities all over the world. Mat Davis, a 2009-2010 fellow, talks about his experience working on a farm in Senegal.

Agriculture is a love of mine. I have been gardening on plots of land in inner city Indianapolis for five years.

It’s this love that led to me become a founding fellow for Global Citizen Year . The program helps young Americans gain a global perspective and develop skills to help address the global issues we’ll face in the future. Each fellow has an apprenticeship. Mine was agriculture.

I worked on a small scale farm for Pate Diop in Gorom, Senegal. I saw just how hard it is to grow enough food for one’s family and for the global market. And I saw just how hard these farmers have to work, overcoming technological disadvantages to do their work.

With Pate and his four sons, I watered 500 tomato plants, 300 pepper plants and whatever other plants he needed to make ends meet. The watering cans we used were made from a plastic gas container that was cut in half. A branch was nailed to either side. They weren’t pretty gardening cans from Sears, but they worked. We worked from 7 AM to 10 AM and then took a donkey-drawn cart back to Pate’s house to escape the hot sun. When we pulled up into the front yard, the women in Pate’s family would be waiting to carry the produce off the markets in huge baskets on the top of their heads. One small box would be kept for the family.

But I often felt frustrated at the markets. There were tables lined up and down the street with women selling vegetables and fish, but all the tables and all the food looked exactly the same. Working hard every day to see the people in my community left with only a small box of food and a market where they couldn’t compete was difficult for me. These were things I had heard and read about, but to gain the different perspectives and to actually live the story was powerful.

My experience on Pate’s farm helped me realize that even with a lot of hard work, farmers often fall short—they’re not able to grow enough food or it’s not at the right price to compete. So in the end, food security is really about giving farmers like Pate the capacity to cultivate more from his land and more for the community.

- Mat Davis, Global Citizen Year fellow

I have been using urban gardening for young people in my community in the same way for the last four years, so when he said that it really resonated with me. Pate always talks about his hopes and dreams and goals and sometimes I forget he is 57. Not everyday do you meet people that age talk about their hope and dream. Let alone someone who is 57 and working in the developing world. That is one thing that I really admire about Pate.

That’s why I have no problem waking up every Wednesday and Thursday morning (sometimes everyday of the week) at 7am while even the sun is still asleep to go watering 500 tomatoes 200 peppers, onions, mint, and bissap (indigenous fruit) all by hand. The equipment we use to water are constructed from: the tops and bottom of plastic gasoline containers to hold water and a stick in the middle nailed to the container to carry it. Each one filled with water weight about under 7 kilos which is around 15 pounds. After two weeks my shoulders got huge! I work with pate’s family and we’ve all become close. Daouda, Moussa, Manjaay: without this them I wouldn’t have perfected my plant watering skills. A lot of things run through my head while I lug around 30 pounds water over and over. I think a lot about development. I think about how much more we could grow if pate had the an irrigation system instead of gas containers. And how agriculture is the base for development in not only Senegal but most of Africa.

Senegal is 70% rural, which means 70% are farmers but in Senegal’s Sahelian climate there is no water and only 2% of cultivators here can offered a pump. Pate has saved up large sums of his money in order to buy two and still he doesn’t get desired result! I have learned that most African governments promise subsidies for agriculture which in turn promises development only to vote win votes. This has continued a perpetual cycle of self-interest started  by the French during colonization and carried through independence and into today via African bureaucracy. Agricultural development in Africa has had a very stark history and it will take an end of self-interest and a long-term vision along with political action to develop it.

Pate is one of the first people to talk to me about the politics and realities of agriculture in Africa. Pate says, “ I have the vision and ambition to develop my farm but I don’t have the materials and finding markets are hard.” Another thing I admire about him is that he works hard and he is humble. He favorite saying is “petit par petit,” or little by little.

Recently, to explore the questions I’ve encountered working with Pate, I set up a meeting with USAID in Dakar and they said that anything I want to know I can ask and they want me to work with them to so it’s a win-win for everyone. I sent in my questions to them so it will be interesting to see what comes up that.

I try to visit my friends everyday, and one time I was watching T.V. at someone’s house and I saw a basketball clip. I was so excited because I remembered that there is a basketball court in gorom. So the same day I went over and started playing. Then the next day I played again but with my friend Bour, and we kept playing; before I knew it there were people coming from other villages wanting to playing. It felt good to be in control of something in a place where I’m so far out of my comfort zone.

Gorom loves the fact that I am African American. Before I got here I was curious about how people would perceive me. I didn’t know if they were going to view my as American and not even acknowledge the fact that I look like them or be just as curious as I was about them. Turns out that I been adopted by Senegal. Everywhere I have gone here I have been welcomed with open arms, hearts and ears.

Senegal has always been a peaceful country (amongst ethnic groups), contrary to some other countries in Africa. The way that they have maintained this peace is through a joking kinship. This is when ethnic groups create jokes about each other in order to diffuse the tension between them. I think that is a big reason why Senegalese people love to joke and have fun. During the era of slavery, the African heritage was taken away from slaves so I don’t know what ethnic group I am. But people doesn’t stop people in my village from making jokes about my origins. For example I live with a Lebou family but everyone says that I look Pulaar. I work on a farm, so they call me Wolof.  I love thakiry (Senegalese couscous) so everyone says I come from the Sereer people because they eat it everyday. Every time I do something that is “West African” they come up with another ethnic group! I think I know all the ethnic groups now!

I really like living here in Senegal. One thing I wanted to experience here is solidarity because a lot of times I don’t feel that in the states, and I couldn’t have picked a better community to find it in then Gorom 2.

While we were talking and laughing the women were gathering around some turn tables under a tent made from an old promotional banner for Cadillac. When I was about to leave the States I would spend countless hours watching Sabar drumming and dancing online and be blown away by the artistry. But I knew sabar online couldn’t do sabar justice. Soon the music started and the women one by one started dancing. Sabar has a rich tradition in Senegal with women in particular. It is a means by which they express their sexuality. And I was told that men who can dance sabar, dance sabar but those who can’t don’t.

Different types of music spawn from Senegal: one is sabar, which is only drumming and another is mbalax, which has the same drums but is accompanied by other instruments. Mbalax is similar to Afro Beat from Nigeria. Youssou N’dour is the most famous mbalax artist in Senegal and probably the most famous artist in West Africa. I have been to two of his concerts and had the time of my life, but it was different then the music here.

I say that because the village is the root of the sound so the music and even the dances have a different swagger to them. As apart of my internship I will study with a Griot to learn the oral tradition and drumming of Senegal so I’m excited to start.

While we were talking and laughing the women were gathering around some turn tables under a tent made from an old promotional banner for Cadillac. When I was about to leave the States I would spend countless hours watching Sabar drumming and dancing online and be blown away by the artistry. But I knew sabar online couldn’t do sabar justice. Soon the music started and the women one by one started dancing. Sabar has a rich tradition in Senegal with women in particular. It is a means by which they express their sexuality. And I was told that men who can dance sabar, dance sabar but those who can’t don’t.

Different types of music spawn from Senegal: one is sabar, which is only drumming and another is mbalax, which has the same drums but is accompanied by other instruments. Mbalax is similar to Afro Beat from Nigeria. Youssou N’dour is the most famous mbalax artist in Senegal and probably the most famous artist in West Africa. I have been to two of his concerts and had the time of my life, but it was different then the music here.

I say that because the village is the root of the sound so the music and even the dances have a different swagger to them. As apart of my internship I will study with a Griot to learn the oral tradition and drumming of Senegal so I’m excited to start.

Having Aliou as a mentor has eased the transition from the city to the village. I had my own preconceived notions about the differences between city to rural life but they didn’t apply here. Not only because its Senegal but also the village lifestyle still existence in Dakar despite the urbanization. In the States it’s not that because the city life is deeply ingrained in to the American culture.  Aliou has been a huge initial help because he explains things to me but doesn’t baby me. He would first let me make a mistake then explain the realities of why that can’t be done in the village. For example, when I first moved to Gorom 2, I was eager to meet everyone in the village. I moved to little too fast and ate at a few too many houses and stayed out just a little too late.  No one in the village had a problem with it. Then I talked Aliou about the reasons why doing too much here could have a negative impact for me. I think my favorite Aliou quote is “I know the village, you don’t know the village”. When he said that I know he wasn’t talking down to me he was just being real with me and I appreciated it. That helped put things in perspective for me. I can see me and Aliou being homies for a long time.

Having Aliou as a mentor has eased the transition from the city to the village. I had my own preconceived notions about the differences between city to rural life but they didn’t apply here. Not only because its Senegal but also the village lifestyle still existence in Dakar despite the urbanization. In the States it’s not that because the city life is deeply ingrained in to the American culture.  Aliou has been a huge initial help because he explains things to me but doesn’t baby me. He would first let me make a mistake then explain the realities of why that can’t be done in the village. For example, when I first moved to Gorom 2, I was eager to meet everyone in the village. I moved to little too fast and ate at a few too many houses and stayed out just a little too late.  No one in the village had a problem with it. Then I talked Aliou about the reasons why doing too much here could have a negative impact for me. I think my favorite Aliou quote is “I know the village, you don’t know the village”. When he said that I know he wasn’t talking down to me he was just being real with me and I appreciated it. That helped put things in perspective for me. I can see me and Aliou being homies for a long time.

This year I helped killed the sheep with my family. The sheep was delicious but while I was eating it I kept thinking about the abracadabra mentality that we have in the states towards food in the states. For example most meat eaters in the US have never killed an animal in their lives but we probably consume the most meat in the world! A lot of people have no idea where their food comes from. My friend Abdoulaye has a message for America about the importance of Tabaski and eating eat.

This year I helped killed the sheep with my family. The sheep was delicious but while I was eating it I kept thinking about the abracadabra mentality that we have in the states towards food in the states. For example most meat eaters in the US have never killed an animal in their lives but we probably consume the most meat in the world! A lot of people have no idea where their food comes from. My friend Abdoulaye has a message for America about the importance of Tabaski and eating eat.

My father’s side of family has knowledge of our origins in America. A lot was retained orally. I know the slave port where my family comes from. It’s called Paris Island. Paris Island is a tiny port outside the Carolinas. The slaves on Paris Island were annexed to the mainland in the 20’s and it’s now a US Marines base. Paris Island like most slave ports carried over a lot of African culture despite enslavement. The culture and language that comes from Paris Island is called Giche. Almost all of my family down south is Giche and can some of the language. I take pride in being a fifth generation Giche and in knowing the history of not only my family but my people in general. Earlier this year I did some research on Paris Island and found that the slaves from that port originated from Mali, Senegal, Guinea and possibly Benin. Once I heard that GCY was sending me to Senegal I knew that it was going to be much more significant than just another “cross cultural” experience.

When the ferry was approaching the island I kept staring at it as a means for mediation trying to clear my head of all pre-conceived notions and expectations. The ferry docked and I got off and completely stunned by the beauty of the Goree. I found a guide and who was a friend of a friend. His name was Babacar he took me on a tour around the island. I learned many facts about Goree on the island. We had lunch and we talked about the challenges in Senegal and in Africa in general. After lunch we went to the “Maison des Esclaves” (house of slaves). I had read so many books about the conditions and treatment slaves but to actually be at one of the main ports where my ancestors were held was surreal. While I was there I walked through the holding cells and the “Door of No Return”.

That visit was huge for me it was the first time I ever felt African and American at the same time. Usually since I’m Black and live in America, I have to constantly be aware of race and, contrary to popular belief, racism isn’t over. We won’t eradicate racism until we deal with the realities that slavery is not far removed and the practices have taken on different forms in today’s world. Goree for me represents the birthplace of the duality of Black America that’s why the visit was so impactful for me. Every question and every answer was right there.

The rest of the day I walked around the island and talked to the locals (not the tourists) and was taken back by all positive energy on the island. I was humble in many way on Goree. But more than anything I was humbled by our human capacity to come to peace with reality and find ways to heal.

My father’s side of family has knowledge of our origins in America. A lot was retained orally. I know the slave port where my family comes from. It’s called Paris Island. Paris Island is a tiny port outside the Carolinas. The slaves on Paris Island were annexed to the mainland in the 20’s and it’s now a US Marines base. Paris Island like most slave ports carried over a lot of African culture despite enslavement. The culture and language that comes from Paris Island is called Giche. Almost all of my family down south is Giche and can some of the language. I take pride in being a fifth generation Giche and in knowing the history of not only my family but my people in general. Earlier this year I did some research on Paris Island and found that the slaves from that port originated from Mali, Senegal, Guinea and possibly Benin. Once I heard that GCY was sending me to Senegal I knew that it was going to be much more significant than just another “cross cultural” experience.

When the ferry was approaching the island I kept staring at it as a means for mediation trying to clear my head of all pre-conceived notions and expectations. The ferry docked and I got off and completely stunned by the beauty of the Goree. I found a guide and who was a friend of a friend. His name was Babacar he took me on a tour around the island. I learned many facts about Goree on the island. We had lunch and we talked about the challenges in Senegal and in Africa in general. After lunch we went to the “Maison des Esclaves” (house of slaves). I had read so many books about the conditions and treatment slaves but to actually be at one of the main ports where my ancestors were held was surreal. While I was there I walked through the holding cells and the “Door of No Return”.

That visit was huge for me it was the first time I ever felt African and American at the same time. Usually since I’m Black and live in America, I have to constantly be aware of race and, contrary to popular belief, racism isn’t over. We won’t eradicate racism until we deal with the realities that slavery is not far removed and the practices have taken on different forms in today’s world. Goree for me represents the birthplace of the duality of Black America that’s why the visit was so impactful for me. Every question and every answer was right there.

The rest of the day I walked around the island and talked to the locals (not the tourists) and was taken back by all positive energy on the island. I was humble in many way on Goree. But more than anything I was humbled by our human capacity to come to peace with reality and find ways to heal.