003. This Seat is Yours
I
remember when I first heard the news that I was going to Africa. After a lengthy interview process, I sat anxiously in my English class. It was January 2009, and the day all the applicants would find out if they were selected.
I was staring at my teacher while he lectured us on our required reading and recent assignments. It was a moment of hearing but not listening. My mind was elsewhere. We're not supposed to have phones in class, but I made an executive decision for that day.
My phone buzzed, and it was a call from my mom. My heart was racing. I asked to use the bathroom and ran down the halls bursting through the doors without a care of who was coming out on the other end.
They told our parents ahead of time, so I couldn't wait to hear from my mom. I screamed in excitement as she shared with me the good news from the bathroom stall.
This was one of my best moments in high school, along with my Verve Girl Magazine feature
Verve Girl, 2007
Danica and three other girls were featured on the front page of VerveGirl Magazine's Makeover Issue in October of 2007.
. I was heading back to my class, grinning from ear to ear. If the saddest person in the world crossed paths with me, my infectious smile would surely touch them.
Back in my English class, sitting in my seat glowing. I definitely wasn't paying attention now. I was daydreaming about heading to the motherland. Everything my parents taught me about East, West, South, and North of Africa ran rampant through my brain. I thought about how I would feel being around my people for the first time. I had no idea of my direct lineage, but with the various history lessons in my home centred around black people, I was confident, I wasn't going to Africa, I was returning.
Shortly after my bathroom celebrations, my guidance counsellor pulled me out of class to let me know the good news. I shared my excitement with her and the two other girls selected to go from my school.
For background, In 2009 UNICEF fired up a program called Girl!mpact
Girl !mpact
Girl Impact was conceived as a mentorship program to help 12 Canadian girls under the age of seventeen to fundraise $50,000 to send 12 girls in Kenya to a good school.
. 12 high-school girls from TDSB
TDSB
Toronto District School Board
’s Scarborough region were selected to go to Kenya and Tanzania. The trip to Kenya focused on sponsoring students from the Limuru Girls School to attend post-secondary education. In Tanzania, the same 12 girls from scarborough would climb Mount Kilimanjaro. I was one of them.
Satec W.A Porter’s Girl Impact candidates featured in The Scarborough Mirror
The process to get chosen was quite nerve-racking for our age. We had to apply through our guidance counsellor, write a lot about ourselves and then go through two interviews - one individually and another with a parent. Not to toot my own horn, but I excelled in school. I had high grades; always read the announcements in the morning; was the host for assemblies, was a constant sports captain and a reigning MVP. Anything I put my mind to, I did. To be that fearless young self again is something that I always aspire to be.
At my school, SATEC @ WA Porter
SATEC @ W.A Porter
SATEC @ W.A Porter is the Scarborough Academy for Technological, Environmental and Computer Education. There are specialized programs and the admission process for students include a certain GPA.
three girls were finalized and selected. Myself, Monica and Hannah. I'm using fake names here because some aspects of this story are a part of our younger selves. So I want to respect that.
At the time, Monica and I were fresh out of a nine-year Best Friend break up. But, that is a novel for another day. On the other hand, I didn't really know Hannah that well, I saw her in the halls, shared 1 or 2 classes with her, and heard about her group of friends through high school gossip. Nothing rather important to me at all, but, I knew the rest of my months up until our climb, we would probably become closer than expected. So, I was open to getting to know her a bit better.
Hannah was thick, 5" 5 with dirty blonde hair and streak highlights. Her brown eyes became intense in every conversation as she took much of her human interactions seriously. I heard through several grapevines that Hannah cared deeply about her friends, and came to their defence against anyone who had something negative to say. I would say that many people probably still want a friend like Hannah to this very day.
She was also one of the few teenagers in my high school who didn't hide the fact that she smoked and drank. Nestled in the corner of brick walls, at the back of the school grounds, you usually find students like her - daredevils or experimenters. The odd English or Social Science teacher would exit from those doors to the parking lot, but, they often didn't care about what students were up to, especially if it was past 3:15 pm.
There was an edgy side to Hannah and her friends that would sometimes break the rules if they wanted. Let's just say; they explored different aspects of life ahead of others.
Because of this, students judged her.
Reflecting on this now, I realized this thing about growing up — for years; everybody is desperately afraid to be different in any way. But then, suddenly, overnight, everyone wants to be different, and that's where people like Hannah win.
Students at school had a particular staple of what the Girl!mpact candidate from SATEC should be, especially the girls who didn't qualify. I did too at one point, but as soon as I made it, I didn't care. Resentment mixed with Hannah's maverick stirred up constant discussions about her not being a good fit.
Eventually, my peers started to ask me what I thought about Hannah's eligibility, followed by snarky commentary like, "how is a smoker going to climb a mountain in Africa?"
Gossip started to accumulate in our grade. I started getting irritated and uncomfortable with the discussion about Hannah. I selfishly started to think about her reputation in comparison to mine.
I'm also not innocent at all. I made it known I wanted one of my best friends to be a part of Girl!mpact instead of Hannah, and I had my reasons.
One day Hannah cornered me on my way to 3rd period. This was odd because, before this confrontation, we only really spoke at Girl!mpact meetings. To be honest, I wasn't really trying to get to know her at all, like I said I would.
She asked if I was one of the people saying she shouldn't be going to Africa.
I became defensive because I didn't say some of the things she was accusing me of, and the things I did say, I didn't want to repeat it to her face. The truth is, I was consumed with the fact that I was going and sad about the friends that weren't.
I remember circumventing, asking her who told her that? What I should have asked her was why she even bothered with my opinion. As if my validation should mean anything to her. It was evident; there were so many seeds of doubt and discouragement floating around about Hannah, fresh into the new school year. Now, looking back, I could only imagine what she was going through.
As weeks went by, I started to notice her comments about being an underdog and resenting whoever didn't think she should be a part of Girl!mpact. Her focus and excitement shifted, and at Girl!mpact functions, her tone was different. She spoke as if she was an outsider. It was evident she was comparing herself.
The spunky, passionate Hannah started to fade a bit. At least, I noticed.
Weeks leading up to our departure, we endured lots of training, meetings and information sessions about our trip. I remember the countless laps around the Birchmount Collegiate field. I would count the white paint in the grass, each round, to pace me in finishing the cardio exercises. Our HIT
HIT
High-intensity training (HIT) is a form of strength training popularized in the 1970s by Arthur Jones, the founder of Nautilus.
courses were set up by Olympic Canadian Rower, Marnie McBean
Marnie McBean
Marnie McBean, is a Canadian rower and three-time Olympics gold medallist.
and Nike Canada, our sponsor. Our thighs and glutes were burning after each work out while sweat beads bathed us. It was a love language to the young athletes in the squad. We weren't new to this. We were true to this.
All 12 girls were not at the same pace; some were athletes, while others were not. And some of the athletes were more advanced than the others. Anyone that went to school in Scarborough will tell you that Birchmount is an athletic school. The students in Girl!mpact that went to Birchmount were basically training for the Olympics already.
Despite all of this, we all completed the training, including Hannah.
She would struggle on a few exercises, but that's normal. She wasn't as involved in athletic activities as the other girls. At the end of the day, we encouraged one another... face to face, that is.
Sadly, a lot of side comments and remarks were made. Over the summer, the girls got familiar with one another, especially the athletes in the group. I started to pick up on the subtle slights about the others who were out of shape. Looking back, I still feel incredibly guilty for indulging in those secret conversations and laughing.
On a car ride back from training one fall evening, I spoke to my dad about all that was happening with Girl!mpact and Hannah. I told him I felt terrible for her and lamented what others were saying behind her back, including me.
My dad lectured me in the car as I ate my Cliff protein chocolate bar. Towards the end, he let me know that I was viewing the whole Hannah situation incorrectly. I shouldn't be pitying her because she was just as qualified as myself and the other ten girls. His perspective changed how I viewed Hannah moving forward. He made me realize that I wasn't viewing her as an equal.
I remember his words telling me,
"Get to know her for who she is, not what she does."
On top of Mount Kilimanjaro hiking towards the last cabin before summit day
A
few weeks later, we took off to Kenya. During the weeks leading up to departure, I practiced what my dad said in my mind. When it came to buddying up in activities or sitting next to someone in transportation, I actively looked forward to sitting with Hannah here and there. I also applied his lesson to all the girls in the group. I learned a lot more about each of them.
During our second week in Africa, we took a safari road trip from Kenya to Tanzania and prepared for our mountain climb the next day. I was up close and personal with Giraffes, waived to the Masai tribe, and finally became mesmerized by the stripes on a Zebra.
I loved the first few days of our mountain trek. It felt like a hike into various ecozones surrounded with wildlife. Our porters who carried our heavier luggage on their heads showed me a different meaning of strength. I was so amazed and wrapped up in all the nature and beauty of Africa around me. It was bliss. It was pulchritudinous. The guides and porters taught us traditional songs and reminded us when to go polepole and haraka haraka.
PolePole vs Haraka
Swahili is one of the main languages in Tanzania. PolePole means slowly and Haraka means quickly.
In between steps of rocky terrain and wet soil, I was determined to continue following my dad's advice of building relationships with the girls around me. If I wasn't learning Swahili with the porters, I walked beside each of the girls in the group.
The mountain trek reflected a small analogy of what life is like when we refrain from understanding one another. I could've remained in my element, or I could've chose to saturate myself in my surroundings. This includes the people around me who were also enduring a lifetime of experience. Without opening my heart, I probably wouldn't have learned recipes from the locals, sang along to Swahili songs, or shared stories thousands of feet above the ground.
I didn't realize it then, but I was building virtuousness. When you judge people, you take away the time to love them.
On
On our 4th day up the mountain, we walked a dessert-like terrain to our summit day cabin. We were all somnolent from hiking since morning, and the African sun was beating on our sweaty bodies. Hannah popped up beside me.
She started soaking in the fact that she was so many miles away from home on a mountain. In conversation, she joked about her being overweight and suggested it was unbelievable that she was on this trip. I decided to share with her what my father lectured me on. I let her know that she deserves to be on this mountain, just like me.
Summit Day was the hardest day for all the girls. We began our trek in the caliginous of the early morning. The goal was to reach the peak of the mountain during sunrise. As we journeyed up the steepest terrain, the thin air disrupted our breathing, and the energy for most of the girls collapsed.
We became drowsy, frustrated, and the air made us soporific. Some of us could barely take three steps without wanting to stop. Girls began crying and attempting to give up. Some puked and were guided back down to the cabin.
I struggled immensely. Every step felt like an enormous effort of life. I was crying and thinking; I can't give up now, I have to make it to the top.
When I looked ahead, I saw Hannah, gliding her way through. Her steps were effortless, broad and robust. Her pace was balanced. Any outsider looking in would think she was a trained athlete. She stepped on the boulders like they were regular stairs and sipped her water gracefully while pacing herself to the top.
She looked at me from Stella's Point
Mt.Kilimanjaro, Stella's Point
Stella's point is roughly 45 mins away from Uhuru's Peak - the highest point of the mountain. At Stella's Point you can see the craters on the mountain.
and offered faint encouragement as the thin draft clasped her breath. "Come on girl, you can do it, don't give up."
Views from on top of Mount Kilimanjaro
As the sun shined after dusk, we began to trek down the mountain in the early morning heat. I was elated. I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro at the tender age of 17. I imagined my lectures to my future children if they ever complained about anything difficult. Impossible, really is nothing.
The unique thing about Mount Kilimanjaro is that the journey down is like a walk in the park. It took us less than a day to come down what took us five days to get up. Introspectively speaking, isn't life also like that? It's always more challenging to get ahead.
I met up with Hannah along the hike down, and she gave me a huge hug.
"Can you imagine I made it all the way up there like that, I thought I was going to be the last one struggling. I am not even an athlete! Holy Shit!"
As Hannah continued to marinate in her joy, talking about her bragging rights once back in Toronto, I saw exactly what my dad told me manifest in front of me. Hannah may have smoked, drank and dabbled in activities that others judged her for, but at the end of the day, she had the heart and soul of a winner.
Of course, she made it to the top, God had already decided this is where he wanted her to be, and it wasn't anyone else's decision to determine otherwise.
To this day, I think about Hannah's journey with Girl!mpact, especially when I see how we discredit people who are different. The seeds of self-doubt we plant in others make them question their seat at the table.
Maybe we are different, so what. Listening to those voices of discouragement may make us turn our backs from the most significant moments in our lives. Or, we may enter life experiences thinking we're underserving.
