Graffiti Spiritualities, University of Manchester 2014

Religions and Theology Departmental Seminar Paper University of Manchester, April 2014 ‘I believe in God but He doesn’t live round here – Social Exclusion and Graffiti Spiritualities’ Chris Shannahan Introduction ‘There’s no such as ‘broken Britain we’re just bloody broke in Britain. What needs fixing is the system, not shop windows down in Brixton.’ - So rapped the London based Plan B on the 2012 track „ill manors‟. This paper arises from my 2 year ethnographic research project [2010-2012] working alongside unemployed young men on a multiply deprived housing estate in Birmingham – the kind of context about which Plan B raps. The project sought to explore the impact that multifaceted social exclusion had on the discourses of meaning employed by unemployed young men to think and talk about identity, meaning, truth and spirituality. The picture that emerged raises a number of provocative questions about the nature of spirituality and theology in an urbanised 21st century. This afternoon we will think about five of these themes 1. The multifaceted nature of social exclusion and „N.E.E.T‟ experience. 2. The relationship between youth social exclusion and narratives of „belief‟ 3. Public space as a parable of social relations 4. Graffiti art as a new urban iconography – the Bromford dreams project 5. The contours of a „Graffiti Spirituality‟ Methodology and Standpoint A challenging but often unasked question faces all researchers engaging in fieldwork: What is the purpose of our research and who is it for? My project was rooted in grounded theory and shaped by an action research methodology. I did not begin my work on the estate therefore as a neutral. I wanted to develop a project that would 1 bring about some measurable progressive social change in Bromford rather than simply gathering data to turn into a book. This perspective echoes Cornel West‟s (1999, 551) thinking about the role of the intellectual – “To be an intellectual means speaking a truth that allows suffering to speak…[to]…create a vision of the world that puts into the limelight the social misery that is usually concealed by the dominant viewpoints of a society.” It was with this in mind that I began my fieldwork on the estate as an engaged participant observer working alongside youth workers in their detached work, a wide range of youth centre based activities and informal focus groups. Siting and Sensing Bromford Before moving on it is important to get a sense of the community in which the young men I worked alongside live since spirituality is inherently contextual. I think the first word should go to one of the young men I got to know on the Bromford. Tyrone [who goes by the tag „Tek9‟] is a gifted rap musician. His tracks „Thoughts‟, „Story of my Life‟ and „Brainwashed‟ express the intense realities of life for young men in Bromford far better than I can so as you get a sense of the estate from some of my own photographs listen to Tyrone…. Placing and Picturing Bromford The 1960s built Bromford estate is 4 miles east of Birmingham city centre. Only 1 road onto the estate and just 1 bus [last one from city centre is 6pm]. Doctor‟s surgery, small children‟s play area, 2 pubs, 2 small general food stores, 2 bookies, 3 chip shops, a kebab shop and an Indian restaurant on the estate. ½ mile from The Fort shopping centre but 3 barriers make access impossible: a railway line, a canal and the M6. 1 religious building (evangelical church whose congregation commute to worship). 45% of 16-24 year olds are unemployed. People in Bromford die 5 years earlier than the city‟s average - illnesses related to substance abuse/poverty (liver disease, coronary heart disease and lung cancer). 2 Step 1 – Social Exclusion and ‘N.E.E.T’ Discourse The term „social exclusion‟ originates in the social policy of French Socialist governments during the 1980s. In a UK context use of the term was initially confined to the „Social Exclusion Unit‟ established in 1997 by the „new‟ Labour government led by Tony Blair. The „SEU‟ defined social exclusion as, „a short-hand term for what can happen when people or areas suffer from a combination of linked problems such as unemployment, poor skills, low incomes, poor housing, high crime, bad health and family breakdown.‟ Ruth Levitas (2007 and 2005) suggests that social exclusion has three dimensions. I have added a fourth („existential‟)…. 1. Economic: levels of poverty that make participation in society almost impossible. 2. Political: lack of integration into the world of work, education or training and disengagement from the formal political process. 3. Moral: Levitas (2005, 21) refers to, „the breakdown of the moral ties which bind the individual to society.‟ 4. Existential: the effect of endemic economic and political exclusion can give rise to a deeper psycho-spiritual alienation – What Kenneth Leech (1997, 90) terms „emptiness and loss meaning‟ Economic Cultural/Political Social Moral/Existential Unemployment No political participation Low skills/education Family breakdown Poverty No civic engagement Live in high crime area Teenage pregnancy Inequality Racism/Religious prejudice Isolation Anti-social behaviour Not in training Perception of youth as problem Poor health Role models/Parenting Poor housing Gendered prejudice Drugs/Alcohol Existential alienation Most of the young men alongside whom I worked are „N.E.E.T‟ (16-24 year olds who are not in employment, education or training).The term „NEET‟ is the inheritor of 3 previous emotionally loaded descriptors such as „underclass‟ and „Status Zer0‟ that were used during the 1990s. The Audit Commission notes that NEETs are four times more likely to remain unemployed for long periods, five times more likely to have a criminal record, three times more likely to have depression and six times less likely to have formal educational qualifications than other young adults (2010, 16). In pragmatic terms the young men I got to know are NEET, like just over 1,000,000 other young adults in the UK at the end of 2013 (17% in West Midlands and 16% in the North West).1 However, like its predecessors, the term „NEET‟ has increasingly resembled an ontological judgement rather than a factual description of current experience. How might this impact on patterns of „belief‟? Step 2 – Bromford ‘Believers’? Young men in Bromford have little time for organised religion. One 18 year old summarised in stark terms – „Religion is for old people and rich people – not us.‟ Therefore before focusing on the discourse of meaning that young men from Bromford articulate through their graffiti art it is important to consider three of the ways in which „belief‟ has been theorised within contemporary sociological and anthropological discourse in order to ascertain whether the term continues to have traction in the lives of unemployed young men. First, the word „belief‟ has been aligned with Grace Davie‟s (1994) observation that people increasingly „believe without belonging‟. Davie (1994, 79) points to the ongoing significance of, „...heterodox ideas (about)….the paranormal, fate and destiny, life after death, ghosts…prayer and meditation and good luck and superstition…‟ (1994, 83). The „common religion‟ to which she points is clearly evident in Bromford as conversations relating to the knocking down of two tower blocks on the estate in spring 2011 reveal. As I stood with two young men watching the wrecking ball eat into the blocks we spoke about what was happening: Youth A: „I‟m glad they‟re gone; can‟t you see the devil faces in the windows? There was something bad in the blocks. 4 Youth B: Yeah, my mum and dad have just moved to another house and want the Vicar to bless our new place. Me: Why‟s that? Youth B: To wash the badness away.‟ The blocks had a semiotic significance in the lives of these young men. Life in poor quality housing was woven together with drug dealing and prostitution in the blocks leading not only to physical isolation but also a despair that led people to commit suicide by jumping off the blocks. The physical space had become the container of an unspecified but negative spiritual „presence‟, a sense that lingers even though the blocks have now been demolished. Second, as Robbins (2007, 14ff) notes, „belief‟ can signify relational believing: „believing in‟ instead of „believing that‟. Robbins (2007, 16) suggests that „believing in‟ statements are „...essence statements...‟ which pinpoint the values on which people base their lives. My fieldwork raises questions about Robbins‟ suggestion that „essence statements‟ necessarily imply an overarching „believing in‟ framework which is used as a basis for living. Young men in Bromford articulate discourses of „essential‟ meaning which hint at the contours of an unsystematised spirituality but these cannot credibly be viewed as foundational „believing in‟ statements upon which they base their lives. Third, Day (2010, 17ff) suggests that „belief‟ is a way of framing social relationships and belonging rather than the articulation of individual faith. However she suggests that Smith and Denton‟s assertion (2005) that, „...young people‟s midinarratives are insufficient because true happiness requires a meta-narrative...‟ (Day, 2009, 276) is unsustainable; a perspective that resonates with my own work in Bromford. Day (2009, 276) suggests there is, „...no reason to de-legitimise young people‟s moral beliefs as insignificant simply because they are firmly grounded in the significance of the social and the emotional and not in a grander narrative.‟ Do such theoretical approaches to „believing‟ capture the discourses of meaning articulated by young men from Bromford? I suggest not. Snatches of longer 5 conversations with four young men demonstrate a deep-seated „disenchantment‟ with formalised religion but young men in Bromford cannot credibly be described as „secular‟. Theirs is a „post-religious‟ but unsecularised discourse of meaning. ‘I believe in God but He doesn’t live round here.’ The 19 year old who suggested this to me was brought up within a Roman Catholic family. One evening just before Easter 2011 we were sitting on a wall near a local Catholic church sharing a bag of chips when people began to come out of the Maundy Thursday Mass. As they walked passed he recited the Lord‟s Prayer and part of the Nicene Creed to me. He stopped and said: Youth - „But it‟s got nothing to with Bromford. It‟s for other people. Not me.‟ Me – „Why do you think that?‟ Youth – „Because religion‟s for other people not us.‟ Me – „But you still remember the Creed and the Lord‟s Prayer….‟ Youth – „Yeah I sometimes say the Lord‟s Prayer.‟ Me – „Why‟s that?‟ Youth – „Because I believe in God. He just doesn‟t live round here.‟ In the face of long-term unemployment this young man retains a subconscious „Of course there‟s a God…‟ echoing strands of propositional „belief‟. However there is no sense that this has anything at all to do with the life he leads. He presents Bromford as a „forgotten place‟ signifying the ambivalence towards formalised religious discourse amongst socially excluded young men in comparable „fourth world‟ communities. He does not reject the notion of „God‟ but he expresses a hermeneutics of suspicion towards the relevance of the formal faith that he continues to internalise. Is it possible, however, that his critique of the God of formal religion may pave the way for a contextualised counter-hegemonic discourse of meaning that affirms his experience of social exclusion as the basis for a discourse of empowerment? Only time will tell. 6 ‘Bromford’s shit and God’s a Bastard’ For this 17 year old there is no future. He left school with very few qualifications and believes he has no chance of finding a job. His dad, who recently left the family home, used to beat up his mum every Friday night after getting home drunk from the pub. One afternoon, whilst we were walking back from a 5-a-side football match I spotted some new graffiti on a boarded up pub – „EDL‟ [English Defence League]. „Who did it? I asked. „I did‟, he replied. When I asked him why, he said, „Because Bromford‟s shit and God‟s a Bastard.‟ His assertion reflects both ethnic representation and an assertion of his agency. This young man‟s words graphically signify his own interpretation of the cause of his socio-political and existential alienation: the community he lives in is „shit‟ and the God people talk about doesn‟t care – He‟s a „bastard‟. The uncaring nature of God is juxtaposed with the reality of social exclusion and his EDL graffiti reflects his attempt to explain his suffering by scapegoating the Somalian community on the estate. He heaps blame upon another even more marginalised group in an act of existential atonement. ‘I believe in the Bromford. In my music I’m trying to lay down our story’ It was in one of the ten tower blocks that dominate the Bromford that two dual heritage young men talked to me about their struggle to find a job, the activism of the EDL, the friendship they find on the street and their hopes for the future. And then they played some of their own music. Their sense of place, rootedness and hope is tied to the tower blocks and alleyways of the Bromford and so is their use of „grime‟ as a means of exploring and expressing their story. After my project ended one of the young men messaged me to tell me that he and his mate and got enough money together to rent a small empty shop which they have turned into a recording studio. The discourse of meaning hinted at within this sound-bite bears within it the seeds of what we could call a „hip-hop spirituality‟. An organic discourse emphasises the existential importance of place and rootedness; a hopeful narrative that arises from shared experience. A second discourse exemplifies aspects of what Day (2010, 13ff) 7 refers to as performative belief. These two young men could perhaps be viewed in Gramsci‟s (1971, 10ff and 418) terms as organic intellectuals, weaving a narrative of performed communal meaning through their music: sharing and interpreting the NEET experience on this Birmingham estate. In Gramsci‟s (191, 10) words they participate in the life of the Bromford as „organiser[s], permanent persuader[s] and not just as…simple orator[s].‟ This is not „believing without belonging‟, nor is it common religion. Perhaps what is hinted at is a post-religious but also post-secular discourse of meaning. ‘If you don’t get killed you get locked away but there’s always a different path to take.’ Tek9 (Tyone) was 16 when his brother was sent to prison. He felt lost and angry but his talent for lyrics gave him a way of expressing his feelings and the life of the Bromford. In the track „What‟s Going On These Days?‟ Tek9 raps about violence, hopelessness, fear, drugs and gang culture. An array of signifiers is deployed alluding to a four pronged discourse of contextualised meaning. First in relation to socioeconomic exclusion: „I‟m from Bromford. They call it the slum…‟ and „working for minimum wage.‟ Second with reference to teenage life on the street and existential youth exclusion: „Every day is a struggle for a teenager trying to raise a kid when you live in the slum‟, „People look at us and treat like slaves…‟ and „…age of eleven they call you a thug, age of twelve you walk in the slum, at thirteen you‟re dead and gone.‟ Third in relation to resistance to a repeating cycle of alienation: „You‟re destroying the city. It‟s about time you showed some pity…It‟s about time you change what you‟re doing. If you got talent then use it. Don‟t sell drugs sell music. You only have one life so don‟t lose it.‟ Finally possible existential emancipation is signified: „So what‟s going on these days if you don‟t get killed you get locked away but there‟s always a different path to take.‟ Like the young men who spoke about telling the Bromford story in their music Tek9 can be viewed as an emergent organic intellectual. However I would argue it is possible to go a step further and suggest that the discourse of meaning which 8 Tek9 expresses bears some of the characteristics which West (1999) relates to political intellectuals. Paul Gilroy (1987 and 1993) and Stuart Hall (2001) comment on the potential for „cultural resistance‟ within popular culture. Through his use of rap Tek9 has begun to fashion a discourse of meaning which adopts an unstated hermeneutics of suspicion towards existing patterns of socio-economic and existential youth social exclusion, enabling him to articulate a discourse of existential resistance and „performative‟ hope that may bear the seeds of a contextual spirituality which bears some of the hallmarks of the liberative spirituality articulated in the speeches, sermons and books of his hero Martin Luther King. Step 3 - Public space as a parable of social relations Henri Lefebvre‟s 1992 book The Production of Space can help us to understand the relationship between social exclusion, life on the estate and the subversive discourses of meaning young men in Bromford forge through their use of graffiti art and rap music. Lefebvre reminds us that public space is not inert but a social construction that is pregnant with meaning. Lefebvre argues that social space arises from the dialectical relationship between „conceived‟ space [the use people with power intend designed space to serve], „perceived‟ space [the ways in which we make sense of conceived space] and „lived‟ space [the site in which we articulate our own relationship with conceived space]. Lived Space Perceived Space Conceived Space Lefebvre argues that it is possible for the „conceived‟ space of the town planner, the architect or the politician to be subverted through the creation of transgressive „spaces of representation‟ within which the control of those who designed or govern „social space‟ is undermined and new emancipatory „representational space‟ is born. Young 9 men in Bromford transform controlled and monitored „conceived‟ space into „spaces of representation‟ through the medium of graffiti art and rap music. Step 4 - Graffiti art as a new urban iconography (Bromford dreams project) Can popular culture resource existential resistance to oppression, emancipation from what Bob Marley calls, „mental slavery‟, or is it nothing more than superficial lift music to get us through the day as Adorno might have argued? I want, like Tricia Rose (1994) to argue that because of its trans-local character hip-hop culture provides socially excluded urban youth from a range of contexts with a shared language. I suggest we can view it as a nitty-gritty urban iconography, opening a window of perception onto a bigger reality. It was with these reflections in mind that I enlisted the help of a graffiti artist friend of mine, Mohammed „aerosol‟ Ali to develop a week long „graffiti spiritualities‟ project in the Spring of 2012. During the week the young men (with Mohammed‟s support) built, designed and then painted the 12 foot x 8 foot Bromford Dreams cube. The cube reflects their hopes, dreams, fears and spirituality. It is emblazoned with graphic designs (these are really talented young men!) and snatches of lyrics from their own rap music - „No struggle, no progress, no limits...‟, „Speak the truth (even if it‟s against yourself...)‟, „Life is more than money...‟, „Love is reality‟.1 After it lived on the estate for a couple of months the Cube was taken to the campus at Birmingham University – bringing the edge to the centre. BBC Midlands Today News Report 1 The Bromford Dreams graffiti project - Further information is found at www.birmingham.ac.uk/bromforddreams. 10 Step 5 - The contours of a ‘Graffiti Spirituality’ The discourse of meaning that young men in Bromford articulate is shaped by the streets of the estate, their sense of being „forgotten‟ and the attitudes that they realise other people have towards their neighbourhood. I would argue that it can be viewed as an organic spirituality of resistance and immanence because its validity is judged on the basis of its capacity to capture the contradiction and complexity of life for young 11 men in Bromford, to resist stigmatisation and resource solidarity rather than externally defined „orthodoxy‟. Tek9‟s music and the graffiti art of the Bromford Dreams cube do not, to borrow the words of Paul Heelas and Linda Woodhead „defer to a higher authority‟. Through their art and their music young men in Bromford articulate a spirituality that warns us against assuming that they live „on the surface‟. These are men who are, in part, motivated by the vision of certain iconic people such as Martin Luther King (a particular hero for „Tek9‟), Malcolm X, Jesus and Tupac Shakur. Theirs is a spirituality that plumbs the depths of their experience of exclusion and the possibility of transformative hope. Through their graffiti art these young men have created an aerosol icon that opens a window onto the reality of social exclusion and the possibility of overcoming. The multifaceted discourse of meaning that I have begun to glimpse cannot credibly be seen as a new model of religious discourse. However it is possible to speak of a nascent spirituality that arises directly from their shared experience of social exclusion. The picture is messy but the graffiti spirituality I am discovering revolves around „trusting‟ your mates, a conviction that a future is possible that overcomes abandonment and social exclusion and „believing‟ across ethnic/religious boundaries. It is a spirituality of immanence and subversive hope within which graffiti art becomes the new „icon‟ and „grime‟ rap the new sacred music. Young men in Bromford resist the dismissal of their experience as NEETs as empty and socially damaging. Their narratives of hope and resistance relate directly to the raw realities of urban life but refuse to remain trapped by social exclusion, media labelling or the institutionalised neglect of their community by politicians and faith groups. This fluid spirituality arises from deep-seated social exclusion and: Is place-based: shaped but not determined by context Is un-dogmatic and anti-institutional Sacralises the individual but is communal in character Is messy and contradictory, fluid and unfinished Subverts conceived and perceived social space 12 Is organic and street literate Arises from suffering but is not limited by it Draws heavily on and is expressed through popular culture Is more performed than proposed Is characterised by hope and resistance The emphases within „Graffiti Spiritualities‟ are born out of social exclusion on the one hand and a resistance to marginalisation on the other. It is a spirituality that is individualised, disengaged from religious meta-narratives, „D.I.Y‟ rather than „prepackaged‟ and focused around immanence rather than transcendence. Young men in Bromford articulate a discourse of meaning that is characterised by anger, love, fear and hope. It is reminiscent of the vision of urban life expressed by Plan B - „What needs fixing is the system, not shop windows down in Brixton.‟ In such a context what is the role of the researcher, the anthropologist, the theologian? 1 Jane Mirza-Davies. NEET: Young People Not in Education, Employment or Training, London: House of Commons Library, March 2014. 13