Vision Statement
We imagine a world in which children are valued and where their care, protection and overall well being is a social, economic and political priority. A world where children are respected as people in their own right and accorded the full range of human rights
We work to change the course of the future by advocating for children. We believe that putting children first gives them the physical, emotional and intellectual tools they will need throughout their lifetime to create a life-affirming world where people live sustainable lives, sharing resources and enjoying the fruits of peaceful coexistence.
We imagine a world where actions on behalf of children and youth match the lofty rhetoric of policy makers. We challenge those in power to take the needs of children and youth into serious consideration, to respect and listen to their views and opinions, and to include them in conversations on matters both big and small that involve and affect them.
We envision a world where individuals, institutions and policy makers actively support the full range of children's rights guaranteed in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. We challenge community, national and international leaders and organizations to reorder their priorities, committing their political and financial resources to create a world fit for children. This world, as envisioned in 1990 when the CRC was ratified, will lower poverty rates, provide universal access to child and maternal health care, nutrition, and education, and guarantee protection for children during armed conflict and other difficult circumstances.
Contents:
The Beginning of the Art Exchange, 2001
The Art Exchange Project in Context: 2001
Return to Baghdad, December, 2003-January, 2004
Jordan, September, 2006
April/May 2007
August 2007
Looking Forward
The Beginning of the Art Exchange, 2001
Waverly, Deerfield, MA, 2001
In the fall of 2000, two women from The Northampton Committee to Lift the Sanctions on Iraq - Kathleen Winkworth and I - signed onto a humanitarian delegation taking medical supplies to Iraq. We developed our own project inviting children in our community to draw and paint pictures for us to take to children in Iraq. We raised money for art supplies and traveled to Baghdad in January, 2001, taking more than 400 pictures and about $400.00 worth of art supplies - crayons, markers, paint and paper with us. People in Baghdad called us "the women with the colors."
The bulk of the supplies and pictures were left for children at an elementary school; the rest we took to children on the cancer ward at Al-Mansour Pediatric Hospital in Baghdad.
Ali Jassim, Al-Mansour Pediatric
Hosp., Baghdad, 2001
There, with the help of Drs. Ali Abbas and Salma Haddad, we went from bed to bed meeting the children, distributing the supplies and giving each child a picture from a child in the U.S.A. The Iraqi children used the supplies we gave them to make a picture for us to bring back to the USA.
When we returned to the states, we gave each child who had donated a picture, a picture in return. This is how the child-to-child exchange began; the project is documented from the beginning with photographs I took of children both here and in Iraq.
The Art Exchange creates a human connection and context - giving children a glimpse of the culture and lives of the children on the other side of the exchange. There are similarities: I like to play soccer, too; and obvious differences, one being the level of suffering of children in Iraq. The art project enables children in the USA to begin to grapple, in their own way, with the unsettling notion that innocent people - even children - suffer in times of conflict and war.
Children are the future; we have to include them in our struggle to create a better, more peaceful and just world. Engaging them in this kind of child-to-child diplomacy is a good first step.
The Art Exchange Project in Context: 2001
Iraq and Al-Mansour Pediatric Hospital
From Northampton, MA 2001 "It's raining medicine! Joy!"
Iraq was, for the most part, "closed down" in 2001 as a result of the UN Sanctions; trade, travel and even the exchange of information and ideas with the outside world was extremely limited. Medicines and medical equipment, books, even medical text books, were sanctioned along with all the art supplies we carried to the country.
Dr. Salma, the doctor with whom I worked on both visits to Iraq, arrived at Al-Mansour Children's Hospital in 1990, shortly before the first Gulf War; since then she and her staff had treated and cared for an ever-increasing number of young leukemia and cancer patients with ever-dwindling medical supplies and equipment.
By the time I arrived, in January 2001, I could see that the hospital was barely a shell of what it had been. And outside the hospital, in the city of Baghdad and in towns and villages across Iraq, a humanitarian crisis had developed.
The bombing campaigns of the Gulf War had caused significant and widespread damage to the infrastructure of the country, destroying roads, factories and office buildings, medical clinics, houses and schools. The electric grid and telecommunication systems were seriously damaged, as were the multi-purpose dams that generated power and controlled irrigation, water treatment and purification. A March 20 report from the UN mission sent to assess the post-war damage read, in part: "...Iraq has, for some time to come, been relegated to a preindustrial age, but with all the disabilities of post-industrial dependency on an intensive use of energy and technology."
Miran Jameel, Al-Mansour Pediatric Hospital,
Baghdad, 2001
The UN Sanctions remained in place for nearly thirteen years after the war. The political wrangling of the parties involved and the vast bureaucracy set up to monitor and enforce the sanctions made recovery from the devastation nearly impossible, and hindered the efforts of Iraqis and international agencies to repair or improve the situation.
Unable to sustain itself economically, Iraq saw its per-capita GNP fall from over $3,000 to under $500 in nine years, and as widespread poverty set in, the humanitarian crisis grew. By the mid-nineties, UNICEF and other reputable agencies on the ground were reporting a great deal of suffering, disease and death among the most vulnerable elements of the society: women, children and the elderly. According to a report issued by UNICEF in 2001, and based on the Under Five Mortality Rate (U5MR), the overall well being of children in Iraq declined more than that of children in any other country in the world in the decade 1990-2000. The figure was -160%. The next highest negative figure, -74%, was for children in Botswana.
The once highly rated Iraqi hospitals were unable to meet the needs of this increasingly vulnerable population. In 1998 the WHO found a "near-breakdown of the health care system" saying it was "reeling under the pressure of being deprived of medicine, other basic supplies and spare parts."
Return to Baghdad, December, 2003 - January, 2004
Rasmiya, Al-Mansour Pediatric Hospital,
Baghdad, 2004
Al-Mansour Pediatric Hospital, 2004
I returned to Baghdad in mid-December, 2003, spending three weeks living in a rented house just outside the Green Zone with Kathy Kelly and two other members of Voices in the Wilderness, a Chicago-based group. Although the war in Iraq had technically "ended", chaos and violence continued; life was extremely precarious and full of challenges for Iraqis. Electricity was in short supply, sometimes we would have only four hours a day, and those not consecutive. There was a serious gas shortage, cars and people waited in lines for eight to ten hours outside stations--clogging up the roads and taking time away from jobs. If you couldn't wait, you could spend two or three times the price, and buy gas from informal venders that were all over Baghdad.
The long months of war and occupation in Iraq made tracking children, or any civilians, more difficult. No one was talking about the 5-7000 children who'd been dying every month under sanctions. Indeed, one got the impression that things were actually improving in Iraq. I knew it would be impossible for one woman, on her own to find the answer to any question ...but for my own information I wanted to go back to the hospital I had worked with in 2001. I wanted to ask the same doctor, or any doctor or anybody: about the children... those thousands of children who were sick and dying. Who's tracking the children.
And so, I went back to Al-Mansour Pediatric Hospital with new art materials, and I was extremely fortunate to reconnected with Dr. Salma and Rasmiya, the head nurse on the children's cancer ward. Once again, I went from bed-to-bed giving out supplies and asking children to draw pictures for me to take back to America.
There was a long, pregnant pause when I asked Dr. Salma my question about the thousands of children who were no longer mentioned in the media--the missing victims of sanctions, war and occupation. Things are going very slowly she told me, and even in January, there was no new ministry of health. There was no way to track children with cancer and leukemia, systems had broken down, records were destroyed and missing. There was no organization to put these things back in place. At one point, she attended an international conference where everyone agreed that the first step should be a country-wide assessment. But, she said, no one agreed to come to Iraq because of security reasons; no one came. And this is the tragic rub, I would say, for me and other activists or humanitarian agencies. Because in order to draw attention to the innocent civilians and children who are dying in Iraq we need reliable and credible information. If nobody is monitoring them, if nobody is counting and reporting on the number of children who are sick and dying, Then the children--and everyone else--is essentially lost, they're invisible, they're disappeared as if they never existed And when I said this to Dr. Salma, she said it wasn't just the children, but that everyone was lost in Iraq.
Al-Gazolia Refugee Camp, 2004
Sometimes, other doctors and mothers on the ward confronted me: things were so dire, what could this art project possibly accomplish for Iraq and Iraqis? Using postcards created from the art and photographs from my first visit, I showed them how I was using the faces and art of the children to bring attention to the ongoing humanitarian crisis in the country.
On my last day visiting the ward, Rasmiya, the head nurse gave me a ring. It has been described by a jeweler as an "art ring"--having a stone in a unique setting. I resisted the gift; this was a humble woman with very few possessions. She had never married, and lived in a room on the campus of the hospital complex. Everything had been stolen, she said, during the invasion. But, she had this ring, and she wanted me to keep in so that I and others in American wouldn't forget about her and the other Iraqis suffering under the weight of the violence and uncertainty of the occupation.
Al-Gazolia Refugee Camp, 2004
One day, I was invited to join a group of doctors on a visit to Al-Gazolia Refugee Camp in Baghdad; they went weekly to provide medical care and consultation for children living there.
More than two thousand men, women and children made homeless by the war and occupation had moved into the former site of Udday Hussein's chicken farm. As children came to the makeshift clinic with their families to see the doctors, I gave them art materials-- crayons, paints and paper- and invited them to make pictures for me to take back to America. It was a beautiful, sunny and mild winter day in Iraq. Women spread out carpets and blankets on the ground, and soon there were thirty or forty children splayed out in front of me painting and drawing.
Jordan, September, 2006
Everyone agreed it was too dangerous to go to Baghdad in the summer of 2006, dangerous for Americans and dangerous for their Iraqi friends. I traveled to Jordan instead . My original plan was to meet Esraa and a group of Iraqi children in Amman. Esraa works for LIFE for Relief and Development, and coordinates an art project for orphaned children and youth in Baghdad . She had been invited by Queen Rania to bring the children to Amman for an exhibit of their art. The show was postponed indefinitely. But, since I was ready to go, I gathered up the children's art I had collected in preparation for the trip, and set off for Amman.
Iraq and Iraqis are becoming more and more inaccessible to those of us outside the country; even email communication is difficult at this point. The best option for me and for others is to travel to Jordan, the destination of some 100,000 Iraqis every month according to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees. (NY Times, Nov. 22, 2006)
With a few contacts supplied by friends, I began to meet with Iraqis, and with NGO people. I was very interested to see what programs were in place for this exile population. As I met children, I gave them pictures drawn for them by children in the USA; and I gave them art supplies so that they could make pictures for me to bring back. The third round of exchanges was on!
Fr. Nabil Haddad with cleaning crew
Webdah School, Amman, September, 2006
Quite by accident one day, I stumbled into a Melkite Catholic Church, the office of The Jordanian Interfaith Coexistence Research Center and Father Nabil Haddad. He told me he wanted to offer support and assistance to the tens of thousands of Iraqis living in exile in Amman, and was struggling to image how to do that. I told him I was looking for ways to engage children in my art exchange. What serendipity that a woman with a project would meet a man looking for a project. Within an hour of our meeting, he asked me to join him in starting-up a small arts-based school program for out of school children. All children would be welcome, regardless of religion or country of origin.
Within a week, Fr. Nabil had arranged for a team of volunteers to join us in cleaning out three rooms in an old monastery --attached to the church, but behind it. What a beautiful location, for a school, with views of the old city and a patio with large palm trees. We swept and washed and shoveled up thirty years of debris. We hauled in the ancient wooden desks--double, with an attached bench--and opened the program on the Following Sunday. Sander a young 20-something Iraqi artist and Amjad, the father of two small children, agreed to be the teachers. By the end of September more than thirty children were attending; an sometimes as many as fifty children would show up.
"The children", writes Fr. Nabil, "are so happy."
April/May 2007
Reflecting on the work we have begun in Amman
The ICAE considers the situation of Iraqis in Jordan an emergency, albeit a quiet one in terms of the attention it gets. The estimated one million or so Iraqis in Jordan - half of whom can be expected to be children and youth - have been invisible, some by choice in order to protect themselves and their families. The money and other resources and services that might flow from the international community into a country that has suffered say, a devastating earthquake, has not been forthcoming. There is, in addition, a widespread misconception that the Iraqis living in Jordan are wealthy and can cope on their own.
L-R: Lydia, Carla and Carole
The political complexities in the Middle East make it difficult to respond to the desperate plight of Iraqis displaced by the war and occupation in their country. The UN Convention on the Rights of the Child guarantees children and youth the right to free education, despite the legal status of their parents or guardians. However, Jordan faces enormous economic challenges to providing that education. And there is the question of international political will to make it happen.
Sander and Amjad with the children.
Iraqi children have been losing ground educationally for years, first as a result of UN Sanctions, and now as a result of the war and ongoing occupation. We need a bold international initiative of educators and policy makers - individuals, governments and NGOs - who will not only speak out, but will begin to meet the educational needs of Iraqi children and youth in Jordan, Syria and Lebanon.
August 2007
As I write this in early August, I am struck on some level by how this project is at once so different from what we set out to do, but also exactly what we wanted to do. In the beginning, we recognized the importance of providing displaced and oftentimes distraught Iraqi families with some place to go. Simply cleaning and opening the doors of a safe space where families can talk and socialize, where children will find activities outside of their home would be a good thing. The Webdah School and Family Center is much more than that now. It may yet emerge into a more formal academic school program.
Our thinking has also changed. In the Fall, we will be meeting with Iraqis to hear from them about the needs and concerns about their children's education. Perhaps the Webdah School cans serve as a model for other programs in other neighborhoods of Amman. We are a work in progress.
Looking forward
More than a million Iraqis are refugees in Jordan. Millions more are refugees in Syria, Egypt, Lebanon, Sweden. At least half of these are children. There is no way to know when any Iraqis will be able to voluntarily return to Iraq. In an effort to meet the educational needs and rights of children, the government of Jordan has again announced that Iraqi children are welcomed in the school system, for the 2007-8 school year. The situation is putting a strain on an already stressed system; some schools are scheduling double shifts to accommodate children.
In July, 2007 Inter-agency Emergency Spaces for Children Roundtable was convened by Save the Children in Washington, DC with representatives from Save the Children, CARE, UNICEF, Christian Children's Fund, International Rescue Committee, Norwegian Refugee Council and the CfBT Education Trust. Based upon input from many INEE members, the group came to a consensus on an Emergency Spaces for Children definition: A place developed with communities to protect children during emergencies through structured learning, play, psychosocial support and access to basic service.
The Webdah School and Family Center was developed more than a year before the July meeting and before the mass media, governments and large NGOs recognized the scope of the diaspora. In hindsight, we realize that the school we created was an Emergency Space for Children. It is in this context that our work continues. In the coming year, we will build on our work with Iraqi partners and international organizations to develop and fund other informal schools and family centers to meet the educational/social needs of Iraqis living in Jordan.
Additionally, the ICAE will continue supporting programs that build cultural bridges between Iraqi refugee children, youth and adults in Jordan with the children, youth and adults in the U.S. A. We do this work within the framework of the U.S. "war on terror" and the demonizing of an entire segment of the world's population: Muslims. We believe our work, which enables children to make and exchange art, which documents children on both sides of the exchange and which creates exhibits to raise awareness and give children and youth a voice is critical to building a more just and peaceful world.
