There are certain parts of history that no one can erase. As we walked through the capital square of Dougga, our tour guide, Moaz pointed out that this was not grass during the 2nd Century BC, for all the floor was covered in beautiful mosaics and the walls were plastered with luxurious marble. For a brief, yet still quiet moment, we begin to lower our heads to allow our imaginations to fill the grass with images of the mosaics. As for me, I tried to imagine the mosaics that I had witnessed all over the Bardos National Museum from the day before. These mosaics would be created to depict wars, Greek literature, daily life, important historical figures, wars (both won and defeated), and historical moments. Chaplain Davis pointed out that each our shadows were now the replacement for what had been mosaics. Jack remarked “Wow, I have never seen such beautiful shadows, you all have such beautiful shadows.” Chaplain Davis quickly asked the group to remain still so that our shadows can be captured. I remarked that it was so interesting that Chaplain Davis was inspired to take that shot. Chaplain Davis responded “Well, it such a simple shot, but its not every day you see shadows of eight individuals.”
As we continued to walk the ruins of Thugga, my mind began to focus on the words. In past dinner conversations, Chaplain Davis shared that she has a love for capturing moments with her camera. During my final year at Columbia, I had made a commitment to myself to be dedicated to documentation through multiple platforms such as journaling, videography, photography, and recording conversations. Although erasure may often try to force its way upon historically marginalized groups of people, I find that documentation is a way to validate the presence of past, present, and future group people. With today’s access to technology, I often find that fleeting moments of the present are actually not valued as much. The present is captured through dense portals of social media that only contain 10 second frames (often catering the shortened attention spans of the masses). The video tapes that my dad would record of our family events using a video camera stationed in the corner of our living room on a tripod have become a relic. Increasingly, these 10 second frames produced via social media have become increasing curated and inauthentic depictions of one’s “present state.”
I, for one, have become increasingly conscious of trying to accurately produce documentation of my personal state. Often times, I would post photos on my own social media platforms of different spaces, evoking my own emotions through my photography. I never knew that photography would become quite an interest of mine. I purchased a new iPhone Xs at the beginning of this school year in hopes of capturing the essence of the spaces that I may or may not inhabit (depending on my vantage point). When I went to the Apple store to pick-up my new iPhone, the Apple representative encouraged me to take free photo-walk tours offered in every single borough in New York City. One particular photo-tour that was of interest was entitled “Manipulating Light and Shadows.” Prior to this course, I had not given much thought to manipulating light and shadows. However, over the course of the photo-walk, I began to realize that it takes a very keen eye to be able to witness the light that shines upon an object and the shadows of darkness that masks it.
At the present moment, there are no mosaics, and there are no marble walls. It is just us: the shadows. The beautiful shadows, in the words of Jack. Prior to Chaplain Davis’ capturing this moment, I do not believe that I would have drawn my attention to the shadows. Even with my newly found knowledge of how to manipulate light and shadows in a picture, my eyes were not attuned to witness such a beautiful moment. I gathered from this subtle moment that even documentation is not confined to the realm of one’s imagination, for nature is also participating in the process of documentation.
Even if Chaplain Davis had not remarked that a photo should be taken of our shadows, nature had already taken its photo. I imagine that nature would have taken its photograph, manipulating its light to capture our shadows: 8 individuals, gathered together to witness the historic ruins in Dougga. The truth is, it is not just grass that has filled the empty spaces that once held mosaics, our shadows have left a mark on the space. The historic bodies that once filled the town squares have left their mark on the space. There comes a point in the larger arc of history where nature must tell its story, where nature has to fill in the blanks of each of narratives. Shade the colors of our stories with its choice of color. Where the manipulation of light is in the hands of nature, a reliable source. Nature will have its final say. Nature will provide us a space where even our shadows are important, even when they have not risen to our own attention. I thought about the number of slaves who had to work in crouched positions day in and day out in basements to produce steam for the hot baths of the upper echelons of their respective societies. Where are their stories written? In the shadows. Their stories are no more or less important than those that claim the source of light. Their stories must be dug up like gold and sent for like water within a well. However, nature has made it such that they must be excavated like special treasures and protected secrets, making them all the more important and exciting. My presence in Dougga was documented by nature, herself. For this documentation, I am blessed. My presence in Dougga was documented by Chaplain Davis, herself. For this documentation, I am blessed. As a result, we are the mosaics that can never be erased, stolen, or removed from existence. We are the protectors of each other’s presence and/or seemingly absence in history.
