Mental illness touches everyone. For artist Ahmed Elfatih, intimate memories of his own life created the foundations for his art. From Sept. 7 to 16, Elfatih’s art pieces took over the walls of the Hamilton Audio Visual Node (HAVN) on 26 Barton Street East for “Mixed Matter”. This unique exhibit displayed Elfatih’s struggles leading up to his immigration from Omdurman, Sudan to Hamilton, Ontario. With a focus on his personal experiences with mental illness, each of his paintings tell a different memory from his life.
“These paintings are actual events; actual things that happened to me,” said Elfatih.
Elfatih’s mother was one of the main reasons why Elfatih was able to come to Canada. For five years, she worked to bring her family to this new country. Suitingly, all of Elfatih’s paintings are dedicated to his mother.
Elfatih started making art as early as six years old when his sister began teaching him how to draw characters such as Mickey Mouse. With the support of his dad, Elfatih eventually picked up art as a way to cope with his mood swings.
“When I’m happy, I paint. When I’m sad, I paint. It’s actually a healing method for me,” said Elfatih.
“Mixed Matter” is an art show that highlights all the struggles Elfatih faced in the process of coming to Hamilton. Elfatih noted that most of his difficulties in Omdurman revolved around managing mental illness. He continues to paint because he hopes to start a cause or campaign to use art and music to heal. Art is how he kept his happiness and energy.
Elfatih’s compositions contain unique figures and scenery that may not make sense to the mind at first. But that’s a lot like what feelings look like - sometimes when you try to depict them, they just don’t make sense. They are beautiful, chaotic and tragic in their own ways.
Feelings are exactly what Elfatih wants people to get from his exhibit. He wants his art to touch the human mind and heart; to see if others can relate to his work.
“I feel comfort when I find out that other people also go through those issues. What I’m trying to get is feelings. I want people to [leave the exhibit] with experience … That was what I was aiming for,” Elfatih remarked.
Elfatih notes that “Bell’s Curse” is one of his favourite pieces he’s done. “Bell’s Curse” depicts Elfatih in front of a patterned royal purple background. On the right side of his face, his features seem normal; if not a bit down-turned. On the left, his features blossom in different directions; almost as if they are sprouting out of his face and growing in their own way.
What could be the story behind this painting? Recently, Elfatih was diagnosed with Bell’s palsy, a temporary weakness or paralysis of the facial muscles. As a child, this was something he had experienced temporarily.. Four months ago; however, it stayed. Elfatih says that the painting represents him. What he takes from this painting is that flaws are beautiful and that you should be proud of them.
“God hand picks you to have [flaws] … especially if it’s visual, it’s like hey, I’m gonna put this little gift on you; this pearl on you,” he said.
As you go through the exhibit, you can see both the hurt and the healing that Elfatih has gone through. This is evident in each individual brushstroke, caption and story that his paintings retell.
Mental and physical illnesses are difficult. His paintings depict that clearly. But sometimes, some good can come from the pain and struggle.
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By: Maryanne Oketch
One of the reasons I chose to enrol at McMaster University was for the diversity that the school claimed to offer. Coming from a predominantly white secondary school, I was excited to attend a new school. I was hopeful that I would make connections within my program and maybe gain a support system consisting of people that could relate to the experience of being Black in academia.
When I entered the integrated science program in 2016, I was disheartened to realize that in my year of entry, I was the only student in my program that was Black, alongside two other individuals with mixed backgrounds. Within the week, this dropped to two, as one person switched out. Within the month, it then became clear that the two of us were not just the only Black students in our year, but in the whole four-year program.
This lack of Black peers created a feeling that I had to be the best of the best, and when I couldn’t reach that goal, I would withdraw rather than reaching out. This caused damage to my grades, reputation and relationships with my peers.
It is a well-known fact that there is a disparity between the Black population and our representation in higher education. This gap can be seen more in supplementary-based programs that McMaster offers, and my experience unfortunately is not an isolated one.
Multiple students from different programs stated that the lack of Black students in their programs made them feel like there were few people who could relate to the struggles that come with being Black.
There was also another complexity that I did not consider — the fact that there are more Black women in academia than Black men. One health sciences student, upon realizing that they were the only Black man in their whole year, experienced feelings of isolation.
In addition, a justice, political philosophy and law student was the only Black man in their program, and though he is friends with Black women, he notes that it is not fully the same.
Regrettably, the issues that stem from the lack of diversity do not just have interpersonal effects, but also affect the learning experience. A student in the arts and science program said that there were times when a professor or student would ask a question that pertained to race, and the question would seem pointed at them, the only Black student in their year.
This student can also recall a moment when a professor made a comment about how some students may be used to hearing racist jokes, and then locked eyes with them, creating an uncomfortable situation.
Another former arts and science student had a class where a classmate attempted to defend slavery, and a professor who taught a class about oppression but refused to use the term “racism”. The student states that they never felt challenged by the program, and felt that they had to do the challenging rather than their instructors. This was due, they say, to the structure and instruction of the program being catered to their affluent white peers and not to them.
The catering of programs does not seem limited to just arts and science but can also be seen in McMaster Engineering Society programs. A student within the program switched out after one semester due to the lack of actual inquiry in the program, but a focus on the marks received.
When a peer in their program stated that "the disadvantaged [in Hamilton] aren't doing enough for the more privileged to help them," the professor did not immediately shut down this false and insensitive statement, but instead was complacent. In addition, the structure of the program encouraged students to repeat the same statistics because that is what is needed for a good grade, and not because the students wished to learn more about societal issues.
If multiple Black students in different years and different programs are saying the same thing, there needs to be some sort of change to support these students when they are in the program. I am not suggesting these programs change their selection process, because this lack of diversity is a systemic issue, and I do not have the knowledge to provide suitable solutions to help mitigate the effects.
Regardless, if McMaster strives for diversity and does not have the necessary structure to support the diverse students that they already have, then their efforts are just a baseless claim to obtain more money from a diverse group of students.
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Edward Lovo / Silhouette Staff
Resistance resides in the critique; action propels it forward. The critical activist exists in the space between actuality and possibility. In the consummation of what may be, there runs the risk that the latter in an effort to have it lose its critical function; to pacify all momentum of resistance that traces the movement, absorbs the possibility to which actuality is opposed.
The success of the absorption of possibility into actuality removes the activist from a critical space to a miasma that suffocates the cries of opposition.
Critical activists speak in the language of critique; the language of critique is forged in the fires of the struggle for equity.
In a move to quench the fire, those in power assimilate the language of critique into an extension of the language of power: the watermark of absorption. At once, to develop a new language of critique becomes imperative for the critical activist in order to not hand over the strings to those in power to puppeteer the understanding of equity. Failure to do so buttresses those in power with a masquerade of equity, pantomiming a show of justice while muting the oppressed as obstructive and divisive in their own chase for justice.
Divisiveness characterizes the struggle for equity; the struggle for equity is the raison d’être of divisiveness. A struggle that does not challenge the existence of those in power is not a struggle, but a cooperative effort that ultimately serves their interests.
To challenge the existence of those in power is also to challenge the mechanisms by which the disenfranchised are disenfranchised, or produced perpetually by the same mechanisms that accord power to some.
Threads of history and culture are laced through our person, so from the beginning we are not entirely our own—there is so much unbecoming just so that a person might chance becoming. Critical activists unravel our existences - a painful process which is the reason for divisiveness. Without an examination of existence, the element of resistance constitutive of the struggle for equity is lost to oblivion.
Activists who caricature the dynamic of struggle between their critical counterparts and those in power as a lamentable antagonism begin to speak in the language of power.
Unwittingly, these activists hold a basin of tears collected from the oppressed to wash the hands of those in power from responsibility.
Neither divisiveness nor discomfort is an omen but evidence of the dismantling of the structures of power, which are the conditions of the existence of the dynamic between oppressor and oppressed.
Critical activists refuse to crack their soul by the mallet of compromise, to shatter to the pieces that give their core of self the semblance of crystal—we are not so fragile.
The lightning of resistance surges through our words and movements “working with” those in power; those in power will never know of complicity in the struggle for equity.
