Good news, TED Translators: We’re now accepting applications for TED Translator passes to TEDSummit 2019! As you may already know, TEDSummit is an event that brings together TED’s various communities under a common theme. The theme for 2019? “A community beyond borders”. Attendees will include TED Translators like yourselves, TEDx organizers, TED Fellows, over 150 previous TED Speakers, and others. What’s more, TEDSummit 2019 is set to feature a fusion of workshops, community brainstorming sessions, discussions, performances, outdoor activities and an eclectic program of mainstage talks—all in beautiful Edinburgh, Scotland.
So, what does a TED Translator pass get you? It covers the conference fee, as well as travel and accommodation expenses. In order to be eligible for a pass, you must be a TED Translator with at least five published subtitles. TEDSummit 2019 will take place July 21-25, 2019, but all accepted translators are required to attend pre-conference activities that begin on July 19.
You can find the application here. Please note that the submission deadline is November 1, 2018. Late submissions will not be reviewed.
Dr. Essam Daod is a Palestinian psychiatrist, psychotherapist and medical doctor who currently resides in Haifa, Israel. This year, he became the first-ever Palestinian citizen of Israel inducted into the TED Fellows program. Also a longtime human rights activist, Essam and his wife, Maria Jammal, traveled to the Greek island of Lesvos in late 2015 to join other aid workers there in providing humanitarian relief to Syrian refugees arriving by sea after fleeing their country’s brutal civil war. What he and Maria encountered on this trip drastically changed the trajectory of their lives and work: death, suffering, despair, dehumanization—every terrible consequence that war—which is “the total failure of the human spirit,” as veteran Middle East and war correspondent Robert Fisk has put it—inevitably produces. (One of Essam’s first interactions with refugees on Lesvos found him trying in vain to resuscitate a woman who had drowned while trapped facedown in an overcrowded, flooded dinghy.)
Yet, amid rafts and ships frequently capsizing and corpses of all ages washing up on the beach, Essam relentlessly spent several weeks rescuing refugees at sea, administering medical aid on the shore and treating, when he could, the psychological traumas sustained by the newly arrived. Maria, meanwhile, tirelessly devoted herself to rehabilitating refugees in the island’s hospitals and camps.
Back in Haifa after their initial trip to Lesvos, Essam and Maria realized what was (and still is) severely lacking in humanitarian relief for refugees: comprehensive mental health treatment. The couple says that despite the fact that psychological trauma is inherent to becoming and living as a refugee, mental health treatment remains marginalized, even stigmatized, in humanitarian work in crisis zones. That crucial realization catalyzed Essam and Maria’s decision to start Humanity Crew, an international aid organization that, as its website states, “deploy[s] mental health and psychosocial support to displaced populations in order to improve their mental health and wellbeing, to restore order in their lives, and to prevent further psychological escalation.” For almost three years now, Humanity Crew—which consists of nearly a dozen trained professionals, including Essam and Maria, as well as hundreds of qualified volunteers—has been carrying out its mission on the various frontlines of the refugee plight in Europe, from rescue boats and shorelines to hospitals and camps. And the organization has achieved considerable results by any measure: According to its website, Humanity Crew has provided “over 26,000 hours of mental health support to an estimate of over 10,000 refugees.”
Earlier this year, at TED2018, Essam delivered a powerful, poignant, undeniably urgent talk— “How we can bring mental health support to refugees”—that not only highlights Humanity Crew and its work, but also gives us a sobering glimpse into the magnitude of the refugee crisis in Europe and how extremely vital mental health treatment is to mitigating the psychic toll this catastrophe takes on its victims. Certainly, Essam and Humanity Crew’s extraordinary efforts are reason enough for us to want to talk in depth with him about how he and his colleagues are tackling psychological trauma among refugees; but there’s also an element of translation intrinsic in their work that might not immediately reveal itself to us, but which we’d all be the better for discerning and understanding: the translation of trauma into empowerment. Essam was generous enough to discuss all of this and more with us over email. Check out our conversation below.
Before founding Humanity Crew, you and your wife, Maria, traveled to Lesvos, a Greek island in the Aegean Sea, in order to provide aid (medical aid, in your case) to Syrian refugees arriving there after desperate, treacherous journeys from Turkey. Although words cannot fully convey the horror you witnessed and tried to ameliorate on the island’s shore, can you recount—for those of us who haven’t experienced the refugee crisis first-hand—some of your initial encounters with refugees on Lesvos?
Many stories come to mind whenever I’m asked about that early trip to Lesvos, but this is the first time—and I don’t know why—that the question has elicited my memory of an exchange I witnessed between an elderly Syrian man who had just been rescued from a refugee boat and a young European man who was working at a clothes-distribution station on the shore. The Syrian man was about 70 years old, shivering and practically begging the European man, who was about 20, for a different dry jacket because the one he’d been given was a woman’s jacket—which humiliated the elderly man. The young man refused the request, saying, “This is no time for choosing what you like; just take the jacket and say ‘thank you.’” The Syrian man returned the dry jacket and took back the soaked one he’d traveled in. He put it on and told the young man in Arabic, “I may have lost my house, but I haven’t lost my dignity.”
I think this interaction sticks with me because it shows how both refugees and those who help them are traumatized by what they experience. I could tell that the young man had a big heart and was doing the best he could with what little training he might have had, but he was also exhausted and shocked by everything happening around him and unprepared to negotiate the cultural gap between the Syrian man and himself; in other words, the young man was too traumatized to empathize with the elderly man. But perhaps more poignant for me was the Syrian man’s ability to maintain his amour propre during this exchange—especially after all he’d endured to reach Lesvos.
How did this direct engagement with refugees’ extreme traumas affect you (or translate for you)?
Overall, the engagement was, and remains, more so with the refugees themselves rather than their traumas. Of course Humanity Crew focuses on mitigating each person’s respective traumas, but we regard the refugees first and foremost as people, not tragedies. That said, I think my interactions with refugees, whether at sea or on the beach or in a camp, are the kind that rarely occur in everyday life: meetings between two human beings without any shields or concerns about identity; encounters based on pure empathy. These are not easy engagements, to be sure, but I think each one has made me a better person.
In an interview with Haaretz, you said that as vital as the medical aid you were providing on the shoreline was, Maria’s work at the time “was far more significant.” Can you describe what she was doing, as well as how she and her tireless efforts helped to catalyze the creation of Humanity Crew?
About a week after we returned home to Haifa from our first mission on Lesvos, Maria and I were sharing stories about our time in Greece with a few friends. At some point, I showed them a widely published newspaper picture of a child whom I had resuscitated after a large shipwreck on October 28, 2015. Maria looked at the photo and said, “This is Ahmed.” That was the first time I could put a name to any of the refugees I’d helped. Maria went on to tell us how Ahmed had arrived at the hospital in a catatonic state due to trauma: He barely reacted when an IV was inserted into his hand; doctors had to close his eyes at night to prevent them from getting too dry and so hopefully he could sleep. Maria slept beside Ahmed for three days, hugging and gently talking to him in Arabic. After he finally started moving again, he took Maria’s hand, led her to the glass door of the hospital room, put his hand against the pane and said in Arabic, “I want to go home.” I started crying once I heard this, because I realized right then that, despite my efforts to rescue refugees, I had neglected their psyches, their souls; yes, I’d provided lifesaving CPR, but I hadn’t done anything to address the refugees’ psychological traumas. So, both Maria’s story and her work on Lesvos woke me up to the fact that refugees need mental health treatment as urgently as they need medical aid; I was also reminded that I’m not only a medical doctor, but a psychiatrist too. This epiphany, if you will, happened on November 7, 2015; on November 28, Humanity Crew sent its first delegation of therapists to Greece. This is why I say that Humanity Crew is the spirit of Maria.
Why did you and Maria choose to name your organization Humanity Crew?
We wanted a name that did not identify in any way with race, religion or politics—a welcoming name that would not make refugees or volunteers feel uncomfortable or exploited.
Humanity Crew’s website states that the organization’s mission is “to translate trauma and suffering to healing and resilience.” What kinds of mental health treatments does Humanity Crew utilize to accomplish this translation?
The success of this translation doesn’t depend so much on the types of treatments we provide as it does on how, where and when we provide them. The traumas that refugees endure are most responsive to treatment when they’re addressed as soon as possible, whether on rescue boats, on the shore or early in the camps. In these small, crucial timeframes, we can both prevent post-traumatic stress disorder and transform traumas into empowering experiences. The longer mental health treatment is delayed, however, the more embedded traumas become and the more at risk refugees are of developing PTSD and other mental health issues.
In your talk at TED2018, you tell the story of Omar, a 5-year-old Syrian boy, and the emergency intervention you administered to him. What are some of the important, or even necessary, differences between how you approach child refugees and how you approach adult refugees?
Children’s brains are still developing, which gives them much more plasticity than adults’ brains. This allows for not just the prevention or reduction of trauma in kids, but also the opportunity to transform their traumas into empowering experiences. But, as with Omar, it’s vital to treat child refugees as soon as possible, before trauma can permanently and immutably take root in their psyches.
Adults are a different story. Their brains are fully developed and absorb the traumas of their journeys wholesale. As with child refugees, time is of the essence when treating adult refugees, but interventions with the latter focus more so on assisting these women and men process their traumas in ways that attenuate the inevitable psychological damage that refugees sustain.
In the end, whether I’m treating a child or an adult, the goal is to maximize the individual’s capacity to cope with the trauma they’ve experienced.
I believe the term “mother tongue” speaks for itself: What else in the world can comfort us in times of intense crisis as much as our mothers’ words, the language or languages we’ve heard since birth? In addition, research has demonstrated that psychosocial intervention in the mother tongue of the patient is four times more effective than an intervention administered in a foreign language or through a translator.
Many people don’t realize that traveling across seas on dilapidated, overcrowded rafts and boats is only one part of the trauma inflicted upon refugees in their migrations. Why are the periods before and after the sea journey often their own nightmares?
More often than not, refugees are fleeing countries destroyed by war; they’ve witnessed and endured onslaughts of some of the worst acts human beings can commit against each other: indiscriminate bombing and shelling, executions, torture, rape, slavery. Compounding the nearly indescribable psychological distress refugees suffer as a result of the carnage in their countries is the loss of their homes, families, friends, work, finances, education—all of the “normal” things that anchor us and provide us a solid sense of self—in essence, their lives as they know them. And refugees are risking their lives to leave their countries not because they want to, but because they’ve lost everything and fleeing to Greece or other European nations is their only chance to possibly rebuild their lives.
Then, of course, comes the nightmare of arranging and making the sea journey. This involves negotiating exorbitant costs with shady smugglers who typically lie about the ease of the trip and provide refugees with fake, non-buoyant life vests. Then come the rubber dinghies so flimsy and overcrowded that water starts entering the rafts right after they’re seaborne, forcing some refugees to toss their luggage into the sea to reduce weight, while others will actually get into the water and hang on to the sides of the rafts to lighten the load. Sometimes, the dinghies are so crammed that passengers can barely move an inch and people in the middle of the rafts end up trapped face-down in the accumulated water and drown. Or the rafts, as with the overcrowded, unseaworthy boats and ships refugees travel on too, capsize and sink because these vessels simply cannot handle sailing when over capacity. This is usually when we witness refugees drowning by the hundreds.
Those refugees who are lucky enough to reach shore and survive then must confront segregation and isolation in ramshackle camps where their lives are stripped of identity and dignity: Obtaining citizenship and employment, for example, is almost impossible for refugees who land in Europe. These grave circumstances tend to feed on and fuel themselves, leading to massive poverty, and hatred, extremism and violence directed against or by refugees. Our mission at Humanity Crew is to prevent, as much as we can, refugees from falling into such socioeconomic and -political black holes.
Many people are also unaware that a considerable number of refugees trying to get to Europe belonged to the middle and upper-middle classes in their home countries. You’ve rescued and treated a lot of such individuals. What have you learned from them about their circumstances? What are some of their stories?
I’ve learnt that war does not distinguish between rich and poor. Moreover, the fact that somebody belongs to the middle- or upper-class doesn’t afford them any more of a right to pursue survival and protect their family than someone who belongs to the lower class. The stories told to me by refugees I’ve treated are very similar, regardless of their previous class affiliations. And they could just as well be my stories or yours—stories, really, of people who want only to live in peace, comfort and security.
Why have Humanity Crew’s operations in both Lesvos and Thessaloniki, Greece, been on pause since last year?
Sadly, finding funding to support our kind of humanitarian work is extremely difficult; even in the realm of philanthropy, mental health is largely marginalized. Because of a lack of funding, we had to make the difficult decision to close down our operations in Lesvos and Thessaloniki late last year.
On a positive note, our Athens operation has remained open and has expanded to include seven different locations throughout the city. We’ve also launched our online clinic and our training program, both of which extend Humanity Crew’s work beyond our Athens sites.
You and Humanity Crew are proof that ordinary people, people outside of governmental geopolitics, can do something about the refugee crisis—and something positive at that. From your perspective, then, how can people the world over gain a better understanding of the crisis, and what can they do to alleviate it?
Close your eyes and imagine you and all the people you love fleeing bombs, snipers, summary executions, torture, rape, slavery—all the horrors of war I mentioned earlier. Imagine then having to make a quite potentially fatal sea crossing like those I described above—only to reach shore safely and come face to face with hostile people, people who fear you’re a terrorist or a criminal or an economic threat, people who would rather push you back to your death. Now, contrast this response to that of Humanity Crew: We’re a small but dedicated group who will greet you with hugs, comfort, support, and a commitment to helping you regain your dignity and humanity. So, decide who you want to be in this crisis: the one who turns desperate people back to their deaths, or the one who embraces and shelters them?
Greetings, TED Translators and readers alike! We’re thrilled to share with you our new TED Translators video short, which we produced to help spread the word about the TED Translators program even farther and wider around the world. We’re always seeking new volunteers to join us in translating TED Talks into over 100 languages, and we hope the video above—which features several of our most prolific TED Translators from countries like Brazil, Italy, Tanzania and more—will inspire you to start translating your own favorite talks with us. Enjoy!
(Editor’s note: To produce this video, we posted a call on Facebook for TED Translators to submit clips of themselves in their home countries highlighting the program and their work with us. We were not able to include all of the submissions in the final cut, but we’ve posted a compilation of those that do not appear in the main video below.)
At TED2018, TED Fellow and journalist Olga Yurkova delivered a talk that unflinchingly addressed the media scourge of fake news and how it’s spreading misinformation in Ukraine. She also discussed how we can combat this critical problem, pointing to StopFake.org, the independent fact-checking organization she cofounded, as one powerful antidote available to us. Here at TED Translators, we thought it would be interesting to speak with the Ukrainian translators who subtitled and reviewed Olga’s talk. Read on to meet Marta Demkiv and Mila Arseniuk, and get their perspectives on the translation process, fake news in Ukraine, the Ukrainian translation community, and more.
Why did you decide to translate this particular talk?
Marta: I should start with the fact that I’m currently obtaining my master’s degree in English-Ukrainian translation, and translating TED Talks was part of my assigned studies. I sought out what I thought were timely talks that fell within my sphere of interests, and Olga’s was one of them: She discusses a very urgent problem in Ukraine (and much of the rest of the world too)—fake news—and I wanted to share her perspective and efforts to curb the dissemination of fake news with as many folks as I could.
Mila: Because of its relevance to our times. Of course, fake news is not a new problem, but it’s proliferated at an alarming rate over the past few years, especially in Ukraine—and there’s little sign of this spread stopping anytime soon. We now live in a world where we’re constantly bombarded with information, much of which distorts or obscures truth and facts, often with detrimental social and political consequences; so it’s vital that we teach ourselves to identify and weed out fake news (as StopFake.org does) in order to stay adequately informed.
Can you describe your translation process for this talk? How did you begin, and what were the steps that followed?
Marta: I began by watching Olga’s talk several times to familiarize myself with her cadence, tone, accent, etc. Then, line by line, I rendered a translation. Every five minutes, I played back the talk to check the subtitles’ accuracy and readability. The final step was revision, after which I sent the subtitled talk to an LC for review.
Mila: As the reviewer of Marta’s subtitles, my work started when I saw that a Ukrainian-language review was needed for Olga’s talk. So, Marta completed the main translation, and I was essentially her editor.
Were there any words or phrases in the talk that were difficult to translate into Ukrainian? How did you go about finding approximate translations for these?
Marta: Actually, for me, the most difficult aspect of translating Olga’s talk was sticking to the 40-character limit for each line. There were certain points where 40 characters were not enough to fully convey what Olga said. In these cases, I had to opt for the shortest and most striking target equivalent.
Mila: I didn’t encounter any translation difficulties during my review. Some English words that might seem tricky, like “fake” or “post-truth,” are actually common in Ukrainian and translate easily. I personally find talks by native English speakers much more challenging to translate.
The subject matter and tone of Olga’s talk are clearly serious and urgent. Did you have to make certain word or phrase choices in Ukrainian to maintain the talk’s tenor?
Marta: Certainly. With subtitles, a translator has only words at her disposal, and those words can’t communicate emotions displayed through gestures and intonation. So in the instances when Olga emphasized the gravity of her talk’s subject with a motion or shift in tone, I had to make sure the words surrounding these non-verbal stresses reflected the expressed emotions as closely as possible.
Mila: I agree: The bane of fake news in Ukraine is clearly serious and urgent. Because most Ukrainians already realize this, though, no special words, phrases or “tricks” were needed to preserve the talk’s tenor.
On a different note, what is the Ukrainian TED Translator community like? What has it been like to work with other volunteers?
Marta: Well, I’m quite new to the TED Translators community, so I’m still familiarizing myself with it. That said, I really enjoy translating TED Talks. The feeling I get when I see my subtitles published on-screen is indescribable. I will definitely translate more talks in the future!
Mila: Ukraine has a large, inspiring community of TED volunteers, and TED Translators is a steadily growing part of it: I see Ukrainian subtitles added to talks on an almost-daily basis; I’ve worked with TEDxKyiv since 2014; and Khrystyna Romashko, a Ukrainian LC, has either translated, reviewed or transcribed 984 talks so far! (She and I live in Lviv and Kyiv, respectively, and I’m looking forward to meeting her in person soon.)
Finally, can you tell us a bit about yourselves? What are your passions outside of translating?
Marta: Outside of translating, I’m a very active person: I enjoy skiing, swimming, cycling, traveling. When I’m home, I can read for hours (which helps hone my English) or I’ll seek out interesting films to watch. Oh, and I watch TED Talks quite often too.
Mila: I work in communications for WWF Ukraine. In this capacity, I help people understand the importance of rare species to Earth’s ecosystems and why conservation of brown bears, lynxes, sturgeons and other endangered species in Ukraine is vital to maintaining an ecological balance. Because of the passion I have for this work, for the environment, I try to translate TED Talks that deal in ecology, sustainable consumption, renewable resources, etc.
Also, thanks to my dad’s love of the game, I’m a huge fan of ice hockey. In fact, part of my planning for holiday always involves finding out if there will be a game I can attend wherever I might be going. If there isn’t one that fits my schedule, I don’t mind rearranging my plans so I can catch a game while traveling. It’s no surprise, then, that I own lots of hockey-related souvenirs; some of them have even been given to me by friends who picked them up for me during their own holidays.
21 translators (ranging from a father and his two children to a 14-year-old student to a translator with a casted broken foot) traveled from various parts of South Korea (including Jeju Island) to participate. In addition to meeting and getting to know each other, the attendees shared and discussed their respective TED Translators experiences and knowledge, as well as their ongoing efforts to build translation communities where they live. “We all believe in the power of translation to communicate important ideas around the world regardless of the distances and boundaries between people,” JY said, “and so we’re thrilled to contribute as TED Translators to the strengthening of the global translation community—whether through gatherings like this or our individual translations.”
Given such energy and enthusiasm, it’s safe to say we can look forward to the continued growth of TED Translators in South Korea.
Near the end of last month, Tomoyuki Suzuki, one of 15 TED Translators who attended TED2018 in April, organized and put on a translator gathering in his home country of Japan. The one-day event, which went down in Tokyo, included a hands-on translation workshop, an open-discussion session and time for the translators to meet and get to know each other. While most of the attendees were locals, one translator from the north of Japan (1,000 kilometers away) and another who had temporarily returned to the country from the U.S., joined the participants.
The translation workshop was divided into two parts. In the first, Tom briefed the audience on TED2018, highlighting with photos some of the conference’s significant talks and developments. “My goal was to expose the translators in attendance to the remarkable array of activities and inspiration on offer at TED conferences,” Tom says. “I also wanted to convey the intimacy of watching and listening to TED Talks in person, as well as the wonderful opportunity such conferences afford TED Translators from around the world to meet and build translation communities face-to-face.” The workshop then shifted into a study session whose aim was improving translation quality.
Tom’s first-draft translation of the initial four minutes of Steven Pinker’s talk at TED2018, “Is the world getting better or worse? A look at the numbers”, was used for the workshop’s exercise. The participants split into groups of three and created a spreadsheet to collectively track changes, corrections, edits, etc. in their reviews of Tom’s translation. Active discussions abounded among the trios as they worked. Toward the end of the workshop, the groups shared their insights into the review process. Kazunori Akashi, one of the attendees, had this to say: “I was intrigued to learn that each translator has their own preferred method for reviewing. For example, while one may begin the process by simply watching the talk under review, another translator may start by researching and fact-checking the talk’s content. This exchange of reviewing processes and philosophies was one of the many positive and productive results of this event.”
After the workshop wrapped up, everybody headed to a nearby restaurant for dinner and then to a bar for libations and further conversation. Old and new acquaintances alike connected, and the gathering wound down with a palpable inspirational energy in the air. All of the translators agreed that this local event (along with similar ones in Kobe, Kyoto and Osaka throughout the year) was a valuable contribution to the continual building and strengthening of the Japanese translation community.
On Saturday, April 14, the inaugural TEDxDrewUniversity conference went down at Drew University in Madison, NJ, under the banner of Life as We Don’t Know It. Six diverse, insightful, animated speakers and roughly 100 attendees gathered in the university’s concert hall to explore a panoply of contemporary ideas and concepts that often seem black-and-white to us, but upon closer examination reveal themselves to be more so gray areas from which we can potentially extract groundbreaking, progressive concepts and ideas we’ve yet to imagine. TEDxDrewUniversity was organized by a remarkably affable and efficient team of Drew students led by TED Translator Gabriel Lima. Hosting duties were carried out by The Princeton Review’s editor-in-chief, the incomparable Robert Franek, who both delivered a spirited welcome to the audience and provided the speakers with equally lively introductions.
The first session of the conference took place in the late morning and featured three speakers: Michael DePalma, an entrepreneur and a health technologist; Dr. Kate Ott, a writer and an associate professor of Christian Social Ethics at Drew University Theological School (also known as the Theo School); and Olivia Blondheim, a marine biologist and an ocean conservationist currently studying biology and Spanish at Drew.
Diving right into one of the most urgent problems almost all of us face today—data privacy—Michael’s talk proposed that we undertake grassroots measures to ensure that each of us exercises complete control over her digital data—control that’s founded on what Michael called “decentralization with order,” which would effectively replace the data-handling middlemen we currently rely on with “smart contracts” and crypto-currencies.
Dr. Ott followed Michael with a talk that addressed present women’s-rights movements (like metoo.), particularly in light of the recent, continuing revelations of sexual assault and harassment allegedly committed against women by a seemingly endless litany of famous, high-profile, influential men. Her call for new forms of women’s empowerment that are rooted in a rebalancing of gender power dynamics in all spheres of life could not come at a more necessary time.
Before the midday lunch break, Olivia Blondheim directed our attention to the health of our oceans’ ecosystems, warning that many of the world’s fisheries could collapse by the year 2050 if we don’t drastically change how we extract and consume our oceans’ resources. She also discussed how we can observe the behaviors of sea creatures like pyrosomes to determine the status of our oceans’ well-being.
After a leisurely catered lunch, everybody reassembled in the concert hall for the conference’s second session. Before the next speaker took the stage, the audience was treated to an excellent a capella choir set by a group of Drew students—a performance that segued nicely into the fourth talk.
“The New-Age African Artist”: That’s what Cynthia Amoah, a spoken-word poet-performer and writer, delineated through an impassioned mix of her own poems and stories that touched on her dual identities (Cynthia has spent much of her life in the U.S., but she’s originally from Ghana, West Africa), her journey to poetry, and the responsibility of artists like herself to engage with subjects such as identity, race, gender and social justice. In this day and age, as we continue to witness governments and elites wage assault after assault on our civil liberties and those of countless individuals worldwide, it’s more vital than ever that we listen to voices like Cynthia’s—voices demanding a holistic humanism to serve as an antidote to the dangerous policies that would rather have us fall in line behind racism, xenophobia, sexism, war-mongering, anti-intellectualism and a bevy of other destructive ideologies.
Educator, consultant and nonprofit leader Ulcca Joshi Hansen hit the stage next to highlight and advocate for “student-centered learning experiences that celebrate and maximize the unique potential of individual children regardless of their background, circumstances, physical or cognitive differences.” She homed in on the need for more schools that focus on imbuing students with a strong sense of belonging and purpose, as well as on the necessity of providing young people with viable ways to connect with their communities.
Finally, to cap off the first annual TEDxDrewUniversity conference, Ross Michaels, a music producer, artist manager and an original founder and the co-president of Park Avenue Artists, gave an animated, witty, unflinching talk about trusting our gut instincts and following them fearlessly to our goals. “Feeling is the human business,” Ross emphasized, as he shared several candid anecdotes about the key experiences in his life that led him to this realization—and eventually to become a cultivator and curator of feeling through music. (One of these stories involved a rough breakup and the restorative power of the raw emotion expressed in Phil Collins’ iconic song “In the Air Tonight”.) “Feel every situation you find yourself in,” Ross said, “and don’t discard what you intuit as your true path, no matter who tries to dissuade you.” Excellent advice, especially now, when so many voices and distractions from every direction make it easier than ever for us to submit to the status quo.
And an excellent note on which to close a conference that was a resounding success. The novel ideas put forth by the speakers brought into clearer resolution many important gray areas in our lives, and the departing audience was undeniably invigorated to reexamine the human experience through more perceptive lenses. Here’s to building on this success at next year’s gathering!