Process.

I debated whether or not to make "process" the word of the day. I know that emotionally and mentally processing information is definitely a verb. It takes energy. It is hard. But it doesn't seem to have the same weight as other verbs. There is no way to show tangible evidence of processing, unless you're processing milk to make cheese.

But at the end of the day, there isn't a better verb to describe what I did.

Today was a long and hard day of processing.

I have read a lot about South Africa, and I thought that I understood the history, but there was no way to mentally prepare myself for being a white American in post-apartheid South Africa. I feel the violence in my mindset. I feel that I am an oppressor in my blood, despite my best intentions.

During the morning session at the summit, they discussed power strategies, and I looked at the list of power strategies from positive feedback to name dropping or positioning yourself, and I was sure that I'd used at least 15 of the 25 and was unsure but pretty sure that I'd used 9 of the other 10. The only one I had never used was physical force. I knew that if any of the power strategies were used against me, I would feel upset, and probably appropriately so. It was a sobering thought.

This afternoon, the Teach With Africa fellows confronted one another. What we are trying to do is not easy, and the pain here is so apparent, so real, and we had to just be open with our insecurities, with our baggage, and it's like. I don't know. It's hard. I don't know this country. I don't know these people. But we have to come together. We don't have time not to.

I am struggling with a lot of things, and have to reach out to the people who are here. I know that I do. There is no other choice.

I read Nelson Mandela's book tonight, and it hit me different. I understand it different. I haven't seen very much of this country, but I feel that I have explored it deeper than any other country. Hopefully, this long and tired explanation is evidence of my processing.