Ìwàléwà Philosophy
Ìwàléwà literally means ‘character is beauty” in the Yorùbá language of West Africa. It correlates to the concept of “inner beauty”. Ìwàléwà is the law of creative self culture. As such, it governs the conscience. Character is a three-fold complex that consists of thought, feeling and action. Consequently, the appropriateness of every thought, feeling and action can be measured by the ìwàléwà principle.
Ìwàléwà is equally a state of being, through which a person experiences inner beauty and manifests it consistently, deliberately and habitually. It is neither random, nor senseless. Ìwàléwà is the archetype of aesthetic beauty. As an archetype, the ìwàléwà principle manifests itself through functions of the imagination; dreams, sitting meditation, the visual arts, performing arts and athletics can all serve as gateways to the primordial goodness within.
The ìwàléwà principle is a dynamic process, through which thought, feeling and action become one with the Greatest Good; that ever present power which is the source of all Creation and the everlasting fountain of all forms of creativity. In this way, ìwàléwà is the conscience of humanity, and the universe as well. Because of the ìwàléwà principle, Mother Nature, who provides for all of our earthly needs, is as forgiving as she is beautiful. That is, evolution, adaptation, and change are not accidental. They represent aspects of healing, which is, by and large, a natural process and a demonstration of Creation’s conscience. Stated differently, the character of Creation is benevolent. The universe tends towards regeneration.
The original people in every corner of the World organized their societies in alignment with the universal law of ìwàléwà. That is, as members of the universal family (i.e., Creation), humanity has always been deeply concerned with self preservation. Mating, reproduction, child-rearing, agriculture, trade, folkways, mores and laws originally worked together for the Greatest Good, not only of humanity but of the surrounding environs as well. More specifically, the original societies were powered by fully renewable resources, and they created no waste. Certainly, society has never been “perfect”, as such. But when we examine the social and ecological costs of contemporary society, it becomes clear that contemporary civilization, as it is, is not sustainable.
Violence, poverty, loneliness, depression and immorality, all in the face of unpresidented material wealth, all reflect a large scale imbalance in contemporary civilization. Humanity has lost sight of the ìwàléwà principle and, in effect, gained the world and lost its soul. Nowhere is the imbalance more acute than the inner city communities of North America. African American children, in particular, suffer disproportionately. Every ailment from infant mortality to AIDS, from alcoholism to high blood pressure, from miseducation to incarceration, affects inner city African Americans at least three times more severely than their White counterparts, Nationwide. We are experiencing a colossal disaster. Taken individually, these problems quickly become overwhelming. However, when we understand each of these problems as symptoms, and trace them back to their origins, the potential for solutions grows dramatically. We begin to see that:
The many symptoms of breakdown stem from the same root cause: a massive and centralized system of production and distribution — one that transforms unique individuals into mass consumers, homogenises diverse cultural traditions, and destroys wilderness and biodiversity, all in the name of growth and efficiency. In the process it is dividing us from each other and from the natural world on which we ultimately depend.
The South has supported the growth of this system for the past 500 years, at great expense to indigenous people, their cultures and their lands. In fact, the Western industrial system that now dominates the world could not have arisen without access to the South's raw materials, labour, and markets. This draining process continues today — with 'development', 'structural adjustment', and free trade treaties taking the place of conquest and outright colonialism. In its present phase — economic globalisation — the industrial system is reaching into the farthest corners of the planet in an attempt to absorb every local, regional and national economy into a single centrally managed world system.
As the industrial model colonises more and more areas of life, it is becoming increasingly clear that this process really benefits no one, not even the populations of the North. Economic globalisation is often portrayed as the natural result of economic 'efficiency' or as an inevitable evolutionary trend. But globalisation is far from a natural process: it is occurring because governments are actively promoting it and subsidising the framework necessary to support it. Of course, trade between peoples and nations is nothing new — it is a phenomenon which has existed for millennia. But in the past trade was always a secondary concern, while the primary economic goal was how best to meet people's needs and wants using the resources available within relatively short distances. Only once essential needs had been met locally, did questions of trading surplus production with outsiders arise.
“Shifting Directions From Global Dependence to Local Interdependence”
Helena Norberg-Hodge
Back to Basics
"The greatness of a nation begins in its homes, thrives in its neighborhoods and blossoms in its communities"
Holistic Learning Communities
In the sections that follow, we will examine Camp Ìwàléwà's use of the agbolé as a framework for creating Holistic Learning Communities. This approach is rooted in the understanding that learning represents the natural frontier of a community's evolution. That is, there is a natural relationship between learning and improving the community’s quality of life. Furthermore, education is most effective when it is filtered through direct, personal experience. Naturally then, one would not expect an Eskimo's educational experience to mirror that of a Masaai herdsman. Similarly, one would not educate a seven year-old child in the exact same way that one would educate a twenty four year old youth. In either case, because of the differences in their life experiences and the demands of their immediate environments, what is highly appropriate for one is all but irrelevant to the other. At the same time, however there are certain innate, developmentally specific, mechanisms of human transformation at work in all human beings (e.g., the patterns of birth, crawling, walking, speech, growth rates, puberty, etc.).
The Agbolé
Like human development, which follows a steady course of progression from childhood to eldership, community building is also a natural process. In the growth of civilization, families naturally settled the land first, communities came next, and only much later those institutions set up by the community to serve it. Social development is, therefore, governed by five basic principles, namely land, labor, family, community and commerce. Because it represents the primary social unit, the family functions as the catalyst for collective, social development, or lack thereof. This is especially true of Yorùbá society. Both in Africa and abroad, the Yorùbá family is the source of our social universe. Hence we say, “the greatness of a nation begins in its homes.”
Yorùbá men and women of consequence are, therefore, universally characterized by their attentiveness to family affairs. Attentiveness to family makes one’s character more consistent. Consistency builds assurance. Assurance inspires trust and confidence. Confidence is the foundation of leadership. Through family management, Yorùbá parents condition their children to assume leadership responsibilities both at home and in the community. As little as two generations ago, the typical agbolé functioned as an educational & economic center, where community members were directly involved with every stage of production.
"A noticeable Yorùbá economic organization is that of specialization by compounds. A boy may [however] adopt a trade other than his father's. He makes a small payment of cash as well as in kind to the appropriate organization... Whether male or female, the Yorùbá child serves a long apprenticeship... Children of both sexes begin work at the age of six. The farmer's boy starts at that age, being able to do very little besides carrying light burdens to and from the farm, tending the fire in the hut for cooking food, scaring birds away from crops, and taking a hand in weeding. At about ten, he is given hoeing work to do and at fourteen he may be said to have become a journeyman. While still working for his father, he is allotted by the latter a small patch of land to cultivate for his own account in his spare time. The blacksmith's boy begins work between six and seven years of age by helping carry things to the forge for his father, blowing the bellows, and generally watching his father at work. At about ten, he is allowed to make pins and small knives; while at fifteen he is able to wield the big mallet - weighing probably about nine pounds - and he can then make an implement like the hoe. A boy's working life during the days of his dependence may therefore be divided into the early apprenticeship stage, late apprenticeship stage, and the journeyman stage."
Furthermore, whether it was soap production, food preparation, or some other vocation, the entire industrial process was community-based; from the production of raw materials on the farm, until the finished article was actually distributed and put to use. Camp Ìwàléwà draws heavily from the agbole to inspire Oakland children and families to live the medicine of sustainable culture.
Obafemi Origunwa | 510.485.2336 | www.ObafemiO.com
Ìwàléwà is equally a state of being, through which a person experiences inner beauty and manifests it consistently, deliberately and habitually. It is neither random, nor senseless. Ìwàléwà is the archetype of aesthetic beauty. As an archetype, the ìwàléwà principle manifests itself through functions of the imagination; dreams, sitting meditation, the visual arts, performing arts and athletics can all serve as gateways to the primordial goodness within.
The ìwàléwà principle is a dynamic process, through which thought, feeling and action become one with the Greatest Good; that ever present power which is the source of all Creation and the everlasting fountain of all forms of creativity. In this way, ìwàléwà is the conscience of humanity, and the universe as well. Because of the ìwàléwà principle, Mother Nature, who provides for all of our earthly needs, is as forgiving as she is beautiful. That is, evolution, adaptation, and change are not accidental. They represent aspects of healing, which is, by and large, a natural process and a demonstration of Creation’s conscience. Stated differently, the character of Creation is benevolent. The universe tends towards regeneration.
The original people in every corner of the World organized their societies in alignment with the universal law of ìwàléwà. That is, as members of the universal family (i.e., Creation), humanity has always been deeply concerned with self preservation. Mating, reproduction, child-rearing, agriculture, trade, folkways, mores and laws originally worked together for the Greatest Good, not only of humanity but of the surrounding environs as well. More specifically, the original societies were powered by fully renewable resources, and they created no waste. Certainly, society has never been “perfect”, as such. But when we examine the social and ecological costs of contemporary society, it becomes clear that contemporary civilization, as it is, is not sustainable.
Violence, poverty, loneliness, depression and immorality, all in the face of unpresidented material wealth, all reflect a large scale imbalance in contemporary civilization. Humanity has lost sight of the ìwàléwà principle and, in effect, gained the world and lost its soul. Nowhere is the imbalance more acute than the inner city communities of North America. African American children, in particular, suffer disproportionately. Every ailment from infant mortality to AIDS, from alcoholism to high blood pressure, from miseducation to incarceration, affects inner city African Americans at least three times more severely than their White counterparts, Nationwide. We are experiencing a colossal disaster. Taken individually, these problems quickly become overwhelming. However, when we understand each of these problems as symptoms, and trace them back to their origins, the potential for solutions grows dramatically. We begin to see that:
The many symptoms of breakdown stem from the same root cause: a massive and centralized system of production and distribution — one that transforms unique individuals into mass consumers, homogenises diverse cultural traditions, and destroys wilderness and biodiversity, all in the name of growth and efficiency. In the process it is dividing us from each other and from the natural world on which we ultimately depend.
The South has supported the growth of this system for the past 500 years, at great expense to indigenous people, their cultures and their lands. In fact, the Western industrial system that now dominates the world could not have arisen without access to the South's raw materials, labour, and markets. This draining process continues today — with 'development', 'structural adjustment', and free trade treaties taking the place of conquest and outright colonialism. In its present phase — economic globalisation — the industrial system is reaching into the farthest corners of the planet in an attempt to absorb every local, regional and national economy into a single centrally managed world system.
As the industrial model colonises more and more areas of life, it is becoming increasingly clear that this process really benefits no one, not even the populations of the North. Economic globalisation is often portrayed as the natural result of economic 'efficiency' or as an inevitable evolutionary trend. But globalisation is far from a natural process: it is occurring because governments are actively promoting it and subsidising the framework necessary to support it. Of course, trade between peoples and nations is nothing new — it is a phenomenon which has existed for millennia. But in the past trade was always a secondary concern, while the primary economic goal was how best to meet people's needs and wants using the resources available within relatively short distances. Only once essential needs had been met locally, did questions of trading surplus production with outsiders arise.
“Shifting Directions From Global Dependence to Local Interdependence”
Helena Norberg-Hodge
Back to Basics
"The greatness of a nation begins in its homes, thrives in its neighborhoods and blossoms in its communities"
Holistic Learning Communities
In the sections that follow, we will examine Camp Ìwàléwà's use of the agbolé as a framework for creating Holistic Learning Communities. This approach is rooted in the understanding that learning represents the natural frontier of a community's evolution. That is, there is a natural relationship between learning and improving the community’s quality of life. Furthermore, education is most effective when it is filtered through direct, personal experience. Naturally then, one would not expect an Eskimo's educational experience to mirror that of a Masaai herdsman. Similarly, one would not educate a seven year-old child in the exact same way that one would educate a twenty four year old youth. In either case, because of the differences in their life experiences and the demands of their immediate environments, what is highly appropriate for one is all but irrelevant to the other. At the same time, however there are certain innate, developmentally specific, mechanisms of human transformation at work in all human beings (e.g., the patterns of birth, crawling, walking, speech, growth rates, puberty, etc.).
The Agbolé
Like human development, which follows a steady course of progression from childhood to eldership, community building is also a natural process. In the growth of civilization, families naturally settled the land first, communities came next, and only much later those institutions set up by the community to serve it. Social development is, therefore, governed by five basic principles, namely land, labor, family, community and commerce. Because it represents the primary social unit, the family functions as the catalyst for collective, social development, or lack thereof. This is especially true of Yorùbá society. Both in Africa and abroad, the Yorùbá family is the source of our social universe. Hence we say, “the greatness of a nation begins in its homes.”
Yorùbá men and women of consequence are, therefore, universally characterized by their attentiveness to family affairs. Attentiveness to family makes one’s character more consistent. Consistency builds assurance. Assurance inspires trust and confidence. Confidence is the foundation of leadership. Through family management, Yorùbá parents condition their children to assume leadership responsibilities both at home and in the community. As little as two generations ago, the typical agbolé functioned as an educational & economic center, where community members were directly involved with every stage of production.
"A noticeable Yorùbá economic organization is that of specialization by compounds. A boy may [however] adopt a trade other than his father's. He makes a small payment of cash as well as in kind to the appropriate organization... Whether male or female, the Yorùbá child serves a long apprenticeship... Children of both sexes begin work at the age of six. The farmer's boy starts at that age, being able to do very little besides carrying light burdens to and from the farm, tending the fire in the hut for cooking food, scaring birds away from crops, and taking a hand in weeding. At about ten, he is given hoeing work to do and at fourteen he may be said to have become a journeyman. While still working for his father, he is allotted by the latter a small patch of land to cultivate for his own account in his spare time. The blacksmith's boy begins work between six and seven years of age by helping carry things to the forge for his father, blowing the bellows, and generally watching his father at work. At about ten, he is allowed to make pins and small knives; while at fifteen he is able to wield the big mallet - weighing probably about nine pounds - and he can then make an implement like the hoe. A boy's working life during the days of his dependence may therefore be divided into the early apprenticeship stage, late apprenticeship stage, and the journeyman stage."
Furthermore, whether it was soap production, food preparation, or some other vocation, the entire industrial process was community-based; from the production of raw materials on the farm, until the finished article was actually distributed and put to use. Camp Ìwàléwà draws heavily from the agbole to inspire Oakland children and families to live the medicine of sustainable culture.
Obafemi Origunwa | 510.485.2336 | www.ObafemiO.com