“Take Care of Your Self turns upside down and inside out the meanings of self-care, illuminating for us decolonial futures through our collective healing. Sundus Abdul Hadi invites us into the most intimate valleys of her own healing journey—taking us gently by the hand to show us the visionary work of artists while rooting us in the fertile soils nurtured by Black, Indigenous, anticolonial, and feminist thinkers—and pointing to the revolutionary potential of transnationalism. Take Care of Your Self left me elated, floating a bit with the buoyancy that hope offers.”—Noura Erakat, author of Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine

INTRODUCTION

“So verily, with the hardship, there is relief, Verily, with the hardship, there is relief” 

-The Holy Qur’an (94:5-6) 

Take Care of Your Self. How many times a week do we hear or say these words in passing? If we all took the time to care for our selves, how much stronger will we be? More importantly, how much stronger will our communities be?

While colonialism, neoliberalism, imperialism, capitalism, corruption, occupation, patriarchy, racism, and various forms of oppression define the center, the people who inhabit the margins have been subtly healing as a result of their struggles against these crooked systems. For those of us who are beacons of light in a dark world, the struggle for self-determination is a consciousness that drives our very existence. No matter how beat down we get, one ultimate goal still defines our struggle: liberation. 

A collective consciousness defined by liberation and self-determination has been consistently growing and reaching critical mass, as we are seeing through revolutions and movements from the past decade in Standing Rock, Ferguson, Tunisia, Egypt, Syria, Chile, Iraq, Lebanon, Algeria, Sudan and more. As diverse as each struggle is from the other - it is impossible to paint each unique movement with the same brush - there is a fascinating phenomenon of collective consciousness that links each community to the other.  The People know they will only reach their goals with radical systemic change. Much of these communities have been impacted by intergenerational trauma as a result of the various “isms” mentioned above. 

As much as these societies are attempting to revolt against their defunct systems, I am now perceiving it as an evolution in collective consciousness. This particular evolution of self is only possible after a period of healing. If we were to liken national psychology under oppression to a person raised under abuse, as Fanon has written about extensively, then I want to flip the perspective. Rather than focus on the symptoms of abuse, I want to focus on the process and symptoms of healing and care as the positive counterparts to struggle. I see so much potential there, both for individual selves and as communities who have endured more than what anyone should have to - from loss, displacement, war, violence and injustice. 

The ability for a human being to express and experience joy after so much suffering is one of the most incredible aspects of the human experience, to the intransigence of their oppressors. Just as individuals work on their wellbeing through self-care work, therapy and various forms of healing, so do communities work on their own well being through care-work and various forms of collective healing. In fact, it becomes absolutely necessary for both individuals and communities to engage in care-work and healing, particularly in societies where trauma is endemic. 

The role of the artist in these instances becomes an important responsibility, and in every movement, artists have always been on the front lines. Khalid Albaih, a Sudanese political cartoonist wrote an article titled  “We Used our art to fight, now we need it to heal  us”, which perfectly captures the moment we now find ourselves:

“Sudan’s artists have a new fight on our hands. As the last waves of protests fade from the news, we need to shift our focus to healing ourselves. Talking about trauma is a relatively new concept in our culture. We were never taught the language to cope with what happens after the fight—we were just taught to stay out of trouble. But so many of us are suffering from trauma and the emotional toll of failed revolutions; from the fatigue of resisting, over and over again; from seeing people killed around us. For many of us, our trauma hasn’t even had time to settle in yet. But when it does, we are going to need relief.”

In the spirit of the brave men and women in the resistance, I hope to share some of the insights that I have gathered along the way, as an artist and curator, in how self-care and community-care can support our efforts in persisting for a more just world.