Protect people, not borders

Education

We interviewed Barbara Galmuzzi from Comitato 3 ottobre about the project funded by the Italian Buddhist Institute Soka Gakkai’s 8x1000 funds, “Protect People, Not Borders,” aimed at involving the school community and European institutions to provide opportunities for reflection and deepening on themes such as welcoming, memory, migration, and cultural integration.

How did your organization come into being? Could you share some key moments in its foundation and mission?

On October 3, 2013, 368 migrants lost their lives in a shipwreck off the coast of Lampedusa. Our current president, Tareke Brhane, who is now an Italian citizen but was born in Eritrea, was in Lampedusa as a cultural mediator at the time. He had made the journey between Libya and Lampedusa twice himself. Tareke witnessed the deaths of 368 people, all Eritrean nationals, and assisted both the survivors and the families who arrived in Lampedusa in the days that followed. It was one of the Mediterranean’s biggest tragedies, and the island was soon flooded with journalists asking why these shipwrecks continued to happen, often in near-total silence from institutions and the media. One evening, right there in Lampedusa, the October 3rd Committee Association was born, consisting of cultural and linguistic mediators on one side, and journalists on the other. The association’s goal was to open up dialogue with institutions and journalists, and to preserve the memory of what happens in the Mediterranean, sharing these stories with the younger generations in schools. Only through knowledge, memory preservation, and dialogue can the situation surrounding migration improve.

In commemoration of the tenth anniversary of October 3, 2013, you were invited in March 2023 to the European Parliament to discuss migrants’ rights and the thousands of still-unidentified victims who have lost their lives in the Mediterranean.

The success of that event was bringing 350 students from Italy and other European countries into the Parliament. Many students visit the Parliament, but this was the first time that so many were present in the main hall (you can only enter with proper credentials). Some students even led a roundtable discussion. From an educational perspective, it was important to show them that decisions made in that place have a direct impact on the lives of people who migrate. It’s not about convincing anyone to become an activist for the October 3rd Committee, but about understanding the importance of personal action. Even at 16, you are an Italian and European citizen who carries a great responsibility. In a questionnaire we distributed in Brussels, 80% of the students responded that, beyond the knowledge they gained, the experience had shown them the importance of being able to do something. They will have time to learn the technicalities of international humanitarian law, but for us, the key message was that the 30,000 people who have died in the Mediterranean were 30,000 people with stories and identities. By listening to witnesses, students can put a name, face, and story to these individuals, helping them overcome the “depersonalization” of large numbers, which often leads to indifference.

What is the project funded by Soka Gakkai’s 8×1000 funds about, and what results have you achieved so far? How are students involved?

The students are involved during the Day of Memory and Welcome in Lampedusa. For them, it’s an immersive experience, with mornings dedicated to educational workshops. This year’s edition will feature 28 workshops. For example, one with Emergency, where they’ll hear about sea rescue operations; another with Doctors Without Borders, focusing on the challenges of crossing borders; the Red Cross, to give them a sense of what it’s like to lose contact with family members during migration, and many more. In the afternoons, roundtables are organized, and in the evenings, there are recreational activities where students can get to know each other and share stories. It’s heartwarming to see how students from different schools across Europe form friendships. But it doesn’t end there—after this event, what we call “Lampedusa Seeds” begins. Metaphorically, we plant a seed in Lampedusa, and then we nurture it throughout the year. How do we do this? Through our trainers, who organize educational workshops and peer-to-peer activities, or by taking the students to training events across Europe—in Rotterdam, Paris, Brussels, Cologne, Frankfurt, and more. We’ve managed to involve over 7,000 students and 280 teachers through these educational workshops. Without the 8×1000 funds from the Italian Buddhist Institute Soka Gakkai, we would have achieved almost nothing because we are a small organization. If we managed to organize Lampedusa and the “Lampedusa Seeds” last year, it was thanks to Soka Gakkai—not just financially, but also in terms of shared values and collaboration.

Your work puts you in constant contact with society. What is your perception of Italian society regarding immigration, and what changes would you like to see?

I would like to see a change in how the migration phenomenon is portrayed. Today, the stories of those who die in the Mediterranean all seem the same, practically incomprehensible. Sadly, no one bothers to explain why these people leave or where they come from anymore. The dehumanization on social media and the oversimplifications… As a Committee, we would like to give a voice to these people and stop using the word “migrant” as a rigid, all-encompassing category. We need to change the language and words we use about immigration, which convey the idea that there are second-class human beings. If we want to create societal change in this regard, we believe it needs to start with young people. We would like to, and we already do to some extent, bring the witnesses of these journeys into schools because it’s important to hear from those who have crossed the borders—people who can describe what these borders are like, the cities they’ve seen, the rivers, walls, the guards, the prisons, the keepers, the angels who saved them, those who welcomed them, the bandits who stole everything from them, the hideouts they were kept in, and above all, their traveling companions—the ones you eventually call “comrade.” Because even though they went through hell with you, they’re the ones who gave you the strength to keep going. We would love for schools to not only explain the Geneva Convention but also give a voice to those who have made the journey.

What other actions can we take to spread a more respectful and welcoming view of life?

I think it’s essential to be informed. Once you know, you can become a kind of diffuser of motivation. There are those who perform heroic acts, saving lives at sea, which requires specific skills. But there’s also the possibility that as ordinary citizens, we can make a difference by using our voices and talents to promote awareness. I can volunteer, I can go to Lampedusa. I believe it starts with small actions, and often these are the ones that make the biggest difference. Of course, we need to change the securitarian migration policy and the media’s narrative, but we are convinced that it starts from the grassroots through word-of-mouth, knowledge, and giving voice… in some way, by taking action to create a more welcoming and compassionate world.

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