Jenny B. White

Reaching Out in the Fight against Violence

By Alejandra Hernandez

IMG_0613It felt incredibly strange making my way to Kruezburg this morning.  As we approach the end of our third and final week in Berlin, I finally feel comfortable navigating the city without needing my GPS every five minutes. The thought of leaving Berlin soon is baffling to me.

As the U-Bahn left the station, we made our way down from the Kotbusser Tor platform and headed to ReachOut. As the class trickled up the stairwell, Biblap Basu opened the front doors of ReachOut to greet us. We gathered around a table where he started with an introduction of his work with civil rights. Basu is from India and has lived in Germany since 1979. As a university student both in India and Germany, he has always been involved in civil rights work. In 1984, Basu began to examine how racism manifests in Germany. In the 1990s, there was a great increase in the number of attacks against communities of color. By the end of the 1990s, the government decided to start a program in response to the growing attacks; thus was the inception of ReachOut in 2000.

ReachOutIMG_0643 is an organization that offers counseling to victims of right-wing extremist, anti-Semitic, or racist violence in Berlin. Additionally, because it is funded by the state, these counseling services offered by ReachOut are free. As one of its founding members, Basu explained how ReachOut was the first program that focused its work on victims of violence rather than perpetrators. Basu works as a counselor at ReachOut. To give us an idea of what ReachOut does for the community, Basu delved into what counseling work entails for him. Counseling connects you with people. “It becomes intimate,” exclaimed Basu. You build relationships with communities and form networks. First and foremost, he emphasized the importance of listening to victims’ stories. Furthermore, Basu talked about listening to the stories of these victims without judgment. “Give victims the feeling and confidence of ‘I believe you!’” Working with vulnerable populations, such as victims of violence, requires a tremendous amount of physical and emotional work.

As I watched Basu light up as he spoke about the work he does, it is evident how people within counseling need to be compassionate and authentic with their clients. For example, ReachOut makes great strides to ensure that victims of violence who come in to seek help are not pushed along from one organization’s door to another. As a counselor, Basu makes it clear that he is working with victims. He expressed, “Let people understand that they are not beggars. They have the right to this service.” This phrase stuck with me the most. He wants them to know that they are in control of their own lives. They took the first steps by seeking counseling, and will continue to decide for themselves what they would like to do not only throughout this process but throughout their lives. In this way, ReachOut seeks to empower victims and restore agency.

IMG_0642Over the course of the next few years, Basu took note of the discrepancies between the legal actions taken for victims of police violence in comparison to that of other groups of victims who have experienced violence. As he pointed out, “Victims of police violence are not believed.” Further, victims of police violence receive little aid and often get treated as perpetrators. For instance, in 2002, a victim of police brutality came into ReachOut seeking counseling. As Basu recounted this man’s story, everyone in the room could see the many stark parallels between police brutality in the United States and Germany. ReachOut continued to work on this case but soon realized just how poorly funded their organization was. As a result, ReachOut began a legal aid fund in efforts to raise money to hire advocates and aid in the court processes. However, as in most social justice work, raising money alone was not sufficient. It was evident to Basu that these people were clearly victims of racial violence. Even with the work they were pursuing, moving forward proved to be a challenge with the lack of acknowledgement of racial violence throughout the society. As Audre Lorde points out in the foreword to Showing Our Colors: Afro-German Women Speak Out, “To successfully battle the many faces of institutionalized racial oppression, we must share the strengths of each other’s visions as well as the weaponries born of particular experience. First, we must recognize each other” (ix). Along these lines, the words of Dr. Maisha Eggers rang through my head, “If you’re dealing with oppression…there is no way you are going to do that in a place of isolation.” Working as a collective creates a space in which dialogues can be started. In such spaces, collectively allows for reflection and the formation of language of one’s experiences. ReachOut came to the realization that the public needed to be informed about the injustices that victims of institutional violence face.

In 2004, the term “racial profiling” was introduced into German public discourse. A speaker from the Institute of Race Relations came to Germany to speak to the public about what racial profiling is. However, Basu recounted how at the end of the talk, no one in the audience had any questions, which, as he reflected upon it today, came as no surprise. How could people begin to understand racial profiling with such a lack of awareness and recognition of racial violence as a problem? Along these lines, even in 2012, a young Black German boy was traveling on a train when he was approached by police officers who asked to see his ID. As in many instances across both Germany and the United States, when the young boy asked for the reasoning behind the senseless request, he was met with hostility from the police officers. Despite the evident racial profiling that was committed by the police officers, the courts dismissed his complaints and ruled that skin color was reasonable grounds on which to carry out ID checks. Hearing about this case brought to mind the term “person with a migration background.” Basu explained how many people of color are often asked to show their IDs by police officers because they are profiled as migrants. As Sharon Dodua Otoo points out in Winter Shorts,

“[The term ‘person with a migration background’] is rarely used to describe certain white non-Germans- I think white US Americans for example do not feel addressed by it. On the other hand, people who were born and raised in Germany, and who do not look white, are often labeled as having a ‘migration background’ (15-16).

Earlier in our conversation, Basu pointed out how up until the mid-1990s racism wasn’t a term used in Germany.  Basu also exclaimed how many people in Germany cannot fathom how racism could exist within institutions such as the police administration. There continues to be a great consensus in Germany believing that racism no longer exist; racism ended alongside with the National Socialism era. Instead, many people argue that there is a great fear of foreigners (xenophobia). For instance, in “Turks in the New Germany,” Jenny B. White writes, “Black means for the whites [:] abroad, foreign, not German. That’s why supposedly in Germany there is no racism, but only hostility to foreigners (Auslander- feindlichkeit)” (760).  This particular case brought an enormous wave of attention to ReachOut because they had been talking about racial profiling long before the case. As a result, film director Riccardo Valsecchi sought a collaboration with ReachOut on a film he wanted to create following the 2012 sentence in Germany. Subsequently, ID-Without Colors was released in 2013. Initially, the film was denied entry into several film festivals, especially in Germany. However, it is now being circulated internationally and continues to receive recognition.

IMG_0644Today, ReachOut continues to counsel victims of violence, as well as, works to develop strategies to study and eradicate police violence. Basu was excited to introduce an Android app in development that will allow for users to record incidents of violence. The app also logs the user’s location using GPS and takes pictures of anyone who incorrectly inputs the phone password. Both the audio and video that is recorded is immediately saved every minute and sent to the user’s Cloud so they are not at risk of losing footage if their phones are confiscated or destroyed. ReachOut is also seeking ways to record every confrontation police officers make, which include confrontations that do not result in charges. In this way, records and statistics can be gathered to help further study cases of institutional violence. While ReachOut has made and continues to make a great impact within marginalized communities, Basu has also acknowledged ways in which ReachOut can improve its services for the community. More specifically, Basu voiced the need for ReachOut to begin to look at incidents of institutional violence through an intersectional lens. Until recently, there has been little focus on how women and trans people are affected in different ways by institutional violence. Still, there is no denying how crucial the work Basu and ReachOut have completed within marginalized German communities. As the conversation began to wrap up, we were able to reflect on how far ReachOut has come but also be conscious of the work within this social justice movement that needs to be done. Basu’s passion for his work radiated throughout the room. Being able to hear from and talk to people and groups in Berlin, such as Basu at ReachOut has been infinitely inspiring. Once again, I am incredibly appreciative of the chance to be able to enter these spaces while in Berlin; it has been a humbling experience.

HernandezAlejandra Hernandez is a rising junior majoring in Feminist and Gender Studies. She is also on the Pre-Medicine track, and is planning to attend medical school. She was born and raised in Denver, Colorado, where she learned to love reading and dancing to Latin music. While in Berlin, she is excited to explore and learn about different cultures and communities.

Little Istanbul: Our Walking Tour through Kreuzberg

By Amy Valencia

IMG_0364Today we made our way to the Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg Museum (FHXB), where we were to begin our walking tour of Kreuzberg. As our tour guide Intissar Nassar introduced herself, we were greeted by a man whom she said was a famous Berlin pop star. I didn’t catch his name, but I did catch his band’s name. We were meeting a member of Mr. Ed Jumps the Gun. Heidi was visibly excited as she talked to him and discussed the meaning of the band’s name. He then waved goodbye and Intissar began to describe our next three hours. In the hours to come, we would learn how Kreuzberg had become the vibrant multicultural neighborhood it is today.

IMG_0363Walking into FHXB’s eldest exhibition, we sat around Intissar as she began to recount the history of Kreuzberg. She began with the 1960s and the rise of the Berlin Wall following the end of WWII. The Berlin Wall was built by the German Democratic Republic (GDR) in 1961. Large concrete barriers completely separated West Berlin and East Berlin for 28 years. While the Berlin Wall divided many families, it also separated approximately 60,000 people from their jobs (Rise and Fall of the Berlin Wall), which caused a severe labor shortage. To remedy the labor shortage, young people from Southern and Southeastern Europe were recruited as “guest workers.” Intissar emphasized that these individuals never intended to remain in Germany indefinitely—their intention was to earn money and return home at the completion of their three-month work permits, as wages in Germany were significantly higher than in their home countries (White 755).

Intissar explained that many countries were initially reluctant to help Germany because of its ugly past and that Turkey was one of the first countries to agree to send “guest workers.” Subsequently, in groups of 10, work permit applicants had to pass three tests. These tests were comprised of a hand examination, a medical exam, and a literacy test. Applicants had to show their hands to examiners in order to make sure their hand size was useful for the jobs needed. The medical test and future medical costs had to be paid by the employer; with that said, the employer made medical exams as cheap as possible by making all 10 applicants see the doctor together. They would stand next to each other in their underwear as the doctor examined each one of them, which was dehumanizing and humiliating. The final test, the reading and writing test, was to assure employers that the workers could integrate into society. Applicants were graded and those deemed intelligent enough were allowed to come to Germany for work.

IMG_0367Walking around the exhibition, Intissar’s words also were depicted in the pictures on the wall. Guest workers were sent to live in tight living conditions. Residents on multiple floors in one apartment shared one outside bathroom, and showers had to be rented. Needless to say, many residents went without privacy or comfort. Further, guest workers did not know the German language or culture, and for the most part, they were without family. Living in these alienating conditions made it more important to remember their goals and focus on achieving them. At the end of their three-month stay, employers saw no reason to repeat the process of obtaining and screening guest workers. So, in order to save money, they asked workers if they would like to continue to work and extend their work permits. While some chose to go home, many decided to stay and remain in Kreuzberg. Part of this is because in Turkey, people would label the Turks in Germany with a badge of difference. For example, Turks in Germany were called Almancilar, a derogatory term. In a 1994 survey, “83% of Turkish respondents said they were no longer considering a return to Turkey” (White 755). This was, in part, because they were now othered in Turkey.

Through photographs and short captions, the museum exhibition also showed the journey of Kreuzberg. Kreuzberg sat along the Berlin Wall in West Berlin. Because their stay in Germany was now indefinite, “guest workers” looked for other places to live with better living conditions. They were now able to bring their families over, but many were still unable to afford a living space fit for a family. Te government promised to assist in renovations of the buildings, but Intissar explained the lack of immediate intervention by the government; families were paying rent for buildings that should have been condemned. The Berlin Senate Committee for Construction and Housing turned to a plan for restoration with “residents remaining in their buildings and having input to the restoration process” (Bockmeyer 52).  The advisory panel included 50% resident representation; however, it notably did not include “significant representation of Turkish or other immigrant groups” (Bockmeyer 52). The Berlin Senate presented itself as working with the people; however, they failed to include the communities composing the majority of Kreuzberg’s population.

IMG_0368Along these lines, Intissar also spoke with us about a model of Kreuzberg in the museum, because Heidi’s daughter Chase asked her why there were huge gray buildings that seemed to be out of place. Instead of answering her question, Intissar asked us to guess, and we left the museum. We passed through an alley where Intissar asked us to turn around and notice the gray building behind us. The buildings that we had seen in the museum’s model were in fact the “new” (new in the 1980s) apartments for “guest workers” and their families. The apartments had more privacy, bathrooms inside each apartment for example, but still failed to adequately address the families’ needs. To fix one issue, the lack of schools for children, a parking garage that was rarelyused was turned into a kindergarten.

As we continued walking through Kreuzberg, Intissar addressed some of the issues facing this community today. She makes it clear that while there may be an increase in dangerous activity, according to some, she doesn’t believe it is any different than any other big city. She still feels safe at night, but has to be cautious just like she would anywhere else. On the other hand, gentrification has also been an issue for this community. The culture this community has worked hard to develop is now being diminished in lieu of the modernization of buildings and an increase in the cost of living in Kreuzberg. It’s position in the “shadow of the Berlin Wall” allowed for the expression of freedom and creativity. With the fall of the Berlin Wall, this vibrant multi-ethnic and creative community has become a tourist destination. Hence, everything must become “slick and hip” to compete for tourists and investors. The transition into a new era is leaving behind the community that built it.

IMG_0449Our last stop on our tour of Little Istanbul was the Merkez Camii mosque. Entering a room used for prayer, we removed our shoes and sat in a circle as Intissar explained the significance of the mosque for the Muslim residents of Kreuzberg. For example, in order to combat the hostility and tyranny leveled at their community, including gentrification, the multi-ethnic people of Kreuzberg embrace a “feeling of we.” That “feeling of we” resonated with me. In a predominantly white space, people of color build communities to support one another. For me, I see this kind of community building in two parts of my life. The first is with my family. I am the daughter of two immigrant parents. They built their community through family and friends, and have created a network of unconditional love and support. The second place I see this is back at Colorado College. During my first two years at this predominantly white institution, I found my community in SOMOS, the Latinx student union. Without other students of color, I could not have made it to my final year as an undergraduate. For these reasons, and many more, I know it is important to learn about the history of Kreuzberg, where communities come together to make sure their voices are heard, to make sure their culture is not erased, and to make sure that they are seen. A lesson in unity that should be shared not only in history, but presently, as well.

ValenciaAmy Valencia is a senior at Colorado College from Waukegan, Illinois. She is majoring in Political Science with a minor in Feminist and Gender Studies. She focuses her studies on immigration policy and the effects of these policies on Latin American communities. Amy is excited to be studying abroad for the first time and ready to explore Berlin!