A portrait of the Turkish Artist as a Young Man
A 22 year-old man from Turkey volunteering in Denmark reminded me of the character from a book I read years ago. His generosity and commitment and kindess made me feel more optimistic about the future of the European project.
"When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets."
I was sixteen years old, in 2010, when I first read these lines in a book by James Joyce. There was this extremely sensitive and unappreciated young artist, Stephen Dedalus, who wished to fly by the nets that were holding him in Ireland. He wished to escape from stagnation and bigotry and find a place where he could fully express his identity and fulfil his needs.
Five years later, in late 2015, I happened to meet a young man who reminded me of my old friend Stephen. His name is Karcan and he is twenty-two. He comes from Ankara, Turkey. He is an artist. Everywhere he goes, he proudly shows his drawings and sketches to everyone he meets. There is one little difference between him and Stephen, though: he seems to love everybody. If you talk to him of changing the world – such a common topic among youth – he will answer saying that the most important thing is producing small visible changes around you. If you talk to him of religion, he will answer talking about human kindness.
I met him in a small town in Denmark: we were in a seminar together. For the two of us – and probably for other young artists I did not have the chance and the honour to talk more thoroughly with – Denmark was our Trieste, our Paris. He was – and he still is, at the time I am writing this text – volunteering in a Danish school with the European Voluntary Service programme. He is responsible for organising arts workshops and exhibitions and other things he has surely not told me about.
They were lecturing us about Danish culture and about the programme. Once we were in a classroom – the seminar took place in a school – and we were invited to share, one by one, our thoughts on our role as volunteers in a foreign country. Karcan at some point took the floor. He was trying to better articulate his theory of small visible changes, when he said: “… even we in Denmark have a lot of problems, but if we work hard, if we do our very best, we can make things a little better.” It was early afternoon. I am not sure everyone was paying attention to every single word that was being said. But as soon as I heard those words, I instantly drew back. “Hang on” I said to myself, “what did he just say?”, and I kept thinking about the odd though sweet sound of the words “we in Denmark” pronounced by a Turkish.
Those difficult and slippery concepts such as “European identity”, “multi-national identity”, “global citizenship”, that I had long studied and analysed and written about, had now a strong and solid shape before my eyes. A sensitive and talented young man who experienced first-hand tensions and struggles in his home country – EU or not EU, Christianity or Islam, religion or secularism – who decided to leave and explore the world, flying by those nets. His stance is not explicit; yet it is clear: openness over intolerance, kindness over arrogance, love over hate.
I looked at him as he spoke slowly in the early afternoon dim light. All I saw was generosity and strength, and ultimately, power. Amazingly grateful for having met such a kind soul – a European Stephen Dedalus – I felt inspired. And optimistic. And happy.