Abitur NRW Englisch 2021 · LK · Haupttermin

Klausurteil A

Osayande Igbinedion

AFRICA

Osayande Igbinedion is a male poet from Nigeria.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa my motherland,

Africa the land of the black race,

Torn in a conflict

5 Africa of high and low lands,

Africa of thick forest and shrubs,

Africa in which abound many rivers,

And natural wealth

Bountiful and splendid

10 Africa, my Africa,

A race struggling within

For a place in the sky;

Wither do you go now?

When the white race

15 Had lunged upon you

A cloud overshadowed you,

In a wave of cultures

Like the mighty roars of the Atlantic

Across the beaches of Lagos.

20 You were torn apart,

Body and soul,

In bits of disgusting rags...

When believers and ministers of imported religions

Go back to their African roots

25 You are an edifice of tattered cloths

When teachers and students of white knowledge

Go up and down in the mystery of the same

You are an effigy of the past.

When the series of the western trials

30 Have failed us as we have failed them.

You are in chaos.

When orthodox medicine swallowed tradomedics

Struggling to re-emerge.

You strangulate between them.

35 When laws are turned upside down

And jungle justice and witchcraft reign.

You too are turned to rags

Metaphysical science still

Has a place in our wars.

40 When tradition goes on

In the presence of a foreign marriage.

You are in a great confusion.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa, my fatherland,

45 Africa of past proud warriors,

Africa then and now,

Africa of the black race,

Torn in conflict

Knowing not how to mend the rags.

50 And now, arise, Africa!

Wake up from your slumber, Africa!

You either be up or down the ladder

The present midway takes your breath.

Annotation:

32 tradomedics – traditional medicine

1. Outline how the speaker sees Africa. (Comprehension) (12 Punkte)

Klausurteil A

Osayande Igbinedion

AFRICA

Osayande Igbinedion is a male poet from Nigeria.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa my motherland,

Africa the land of the black race,

Torn in a conflict

5 Africa of high and low lands,

Africa of thick forest and shrubs,

Africa in which abound many rivers,

And natural wealth

Bountiful and splendid

10 Africa, my Africa,

A race struggling within

For a place in the sky;

Wither do you go now?

When the white race

15 Had lunged upon you

A cloud overshadowed you,

In a wave of cultures

Like the mighty roars of the Atlantic

Across the beaches of Lagos.

20 You were torn apart,

Body and soul,

In bits of disgusting rags...

When believers and ministers of imported religions

Go back to their African roots

25 You are an edifice of tattered cloths

When teachers and students of white knowledge

Go up and down in the mystery of the same

You are an effigy of the past.

When the series of the western trials

30 Have failed us as we have failed them.

You are in chaos.

When orthodox medicine swallowed tradomedics

Struggling to re-emerge.

You strangulate between them.

35 When laws are turned upside down

And jungle justice and witchcraft reign.

You too are turned to rags

Metaphysical science still

Has a place in our wars.

40 When tradition goes on

In the presence of a foreign marriage.

You are in a great confusion.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa, my fatherland,

45 Africa of past proud warriors,

Africa then and now,

Africa of the black race,

Torn in conflict

Knowing not how to mend the rags.

50 And now, arise, Africa!

Wake up from your slumber, Africa!

You either be up or down the ladder

The present midway takes your breath.

Annotation:

32 tradomedics – traditional medicine

2. Analyse the ways in which the speaker's views are conveyed, paying attention to structure, language and poetic devices. (Analysis) (16 Punkte)

Klausurteil A

Osayande Igbinedion

AFRICA

Osayande Igbinedion is a male poet from Nigeria.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa my motherland,

Africa the land of the black race,

Torn in a conflict

5 Africa of high and low lands,

Africa of thick forest and shrubs,

Africa in which abound many rivers,

And natural wealth

Bountiful and splendid

10 Africa, my Africa,

A race struggling within

For a place in the sky;

Wither do you go now?

When the white race

15 Had lunged upon you

A cloud overshadowed you,

In a wave of cultures

Like the mighty roars of the Atlantic

Across the beaches of Lagos.

20 You were torn apart,

Body and soul,

In bits of disgusting rags...

When believers and ministers of imported religions

Go back to their African roots

25 You are an edifice of tattered cloths

When teachers and students of white knowledge

Go up and down in the mystery of the same

You are an effigy of the past.

When the series of the western trials

30 Have failed us as we have failed them.

You are in chaos.

When orthodox medicine swallowed tradomedics

Struggling to re-emerge.

You strangulate between them.

35 When laws are turned upside down

And jungle justice and witchcraft reign.

You too are turned to rags

Metaphysical science still

Has a place in our wars.

40 When tradition goes on

In the presence of a foreign marriage.

You are in a great confusion.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa, my fatherland,

45 Africa of past proud warriors,

Africa then and now,

Africa of the black race,

Torn in conflict

Knowing not how to mend the rags.

50 And now, arise, Africa!

Wake up from your slumber, Africa!

You either be up or down the ladder

The present midway takes your breath.

Annotation:

32 tradomedics – traditional medicine

3.1 Assess to what extent Igbinedion's poem can be regarded as a comment on the social and political situation in Nigeria at present. (Evaluation: comment) (14 Punkte)

Klausurteil A

Osayande Igbinedion

AFRICA

Osayande Igbinedion is a male poet from Nigeria.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa my motherland,

Africa the land of the black race,

Torn in a conflict

5 Africa of high and low lands,

Africa of thick forest and shrubs,

Africa in which abound many rivers,

And natural wealth

Bountiful and splendid

10 Africa, my Africa,

A race struggling within

For a place in the sky;

Wither do you go now?

When the white race

15 Had lunged upon you

A cloud overshadowed you,

In a wave of cultures

Like the mighty roars of the Atlantic

Across the beaches of Lagos.

20 You were torn apart,

Body and soul,

In bits of disgusting rags...

When believers and ministers of imported religions

Go back to their African roots

25 You are an edifice of tattered cloths

When teachers and students of white knowledge

Go up and down in the mystery of the same

You are an effigy of the past.

When the series of the western trials

30 Have failed us as we have failed them.

You are in chaos.

When orthodox medicine swallowed tradomedics

Struggling to re-emerge.

You strangulate between them.

35 When laws are turned upside down

And jungle justice and witchcraft reign.

You too are turned to rags

Metaphysical science still

Has a place in our wars.

40 When tradition goes on

In the presence of a foreign marriage.

You are in a great confusion.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa, my fatherland,

45 Africa of past proud warriors,

Africa then and now,

Africa of the black race,

Torn in conflict

Knowing not how to mend the rags.

50 And now, arise, Africa!

Wake up from your slumber, Africa!

You either be up or down the ladder

The present midway takes your breath.

Annotation:

32 tradomedics – traditional medicine

3.2

As part of the project course “Africa rising – Africa’s role in a globalised world”, you are asked to write an article for the course website. You have chosen a statement by the African Kumi Naidoo, former Secretary General of Amnesty International and Executive Director of Greenpeace International, as your starting point: “Economic growth is not sustainable without social and environmental justice.” 1 Write the article and consider economic, ecological and political aspects of globalisation.

(Evaluation: re-creation of text) [14 Punkte]

1 https://www.un.org/africarenewal/web-features/%E2%80%98we-need-sustainable-path-our-future%E2%80%99 [11.06.2020]

Klausurteil A

Osayande Igbinedion

AFRICA

Osayande Igbinedion is a male poet from Nigeria.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa my motherland,

Africa the land of the black race,

Torn in a conflict

5 Africa of high and low lands,

Africa of thick forest and shrubs,

Africa in which abound many rivers,

And natural wealth

Bountiful and splendid

10 Africa, my Africa,

A race struggling within

For a place in the sky;

Wither do you go now?

When the white race

15 Had lunged upon you

A cloud overshadowed you,

In a wave of cultures

Like the mighty roars of the Atlantic

Across the beaches of Lagos.

20 You were torn apart,

Body and soul,

In bits of disgusting rags...

When believers and ministers of imported religions

Go back to their African roots

25 You are an edifice of tattered cloths

When teachers and students of white knowledge

Go up and down in the mystery of the same

You are an effigy of the past.

When the series of the western trials

30 Have failed us as we have failed them.

You are in chaos.

When orthodox medicine swallowed tradomedics

Struggling to re-emerge.

You strangulate between them.

35 When laws are turned upside down

And jungle justice and witchcraft reign.

You too are turned to rags

Metaphysical science still

Has a place in our wars.

40 When tradition goes on

In the presence of a foreign marriage.

You are in a great confusion.

Africa, my Africa,

Africa, my fatherland,

45 Africa of past proud warriors,

Africa then and now,

Africa of the black race,

Torn in conflict

Knowing not how to mend the rags.

50 And now, arise, Africa!

Wake up from your slumber, Africa!

You either be up or down the ladder

The present midway takes your breath.

Annotation:

32 tradomedics – traditional medicine

Klausurteil B: Sprachmittlung isoliert

4. A friend of yours from the UK is working on a school project about the role of poetry in the 21st century. She/he would like to learn about current trends and how they are viewed in Germany.

Write an email to your friend in which you outline the various views on instapoetry that are put forward in Eileen Breuer's article. (Mediation) (18 Punkte)

Klausurteil B

Eileen Breuer

Wie der junge Goethe: Warum gerade ausgerechnet auf Instagram Gedichte ganz groß sind

Poeten haben Instagram für sich entdeckt und teilen ihre Werke mit tausenden Followern. Unter dem Hashtag Instapoetry finden sich dort fast drei Millionen Beiträge, tippt man die deutsche Entsprechung Instalyrik ins Suchfeld ein, werden einem mehr als 6000 Treffer angezeigt. [...] [D]och warum sind die Gedichte auf Instagram so erfolgreich?

5 Eine der bekanntesten deutschsprachigen Poetinnen auf Instagram ist Clara Louise, 26 Jahre alt. Ihr folgen dort mehr als 166.000 Menschen.

Sie hat mit etwa 13 Jahren begonnen, Gedichte zu verfassen: „Ich habe einfach alles niedergeschrieben, was mich belastet hat oder was in meinem Kopf vorgegangen ist“, erzählt sie bento. Die Poetin schreibt meistens über Liebe – die zu anderen und die zu sich selbst.

10 „Die Gedichte haben mir dabei geholfen, mich selbst zu verstehen.“

Clara wollte die Gedanken nicht mehr nur für ihre heimische Schublade aufschreiben, also fing sie an, Ausschnitte auf Instagram zu veröffentlichen. Manchmal in Retrooptik auf der Schreibmaschine getippt, manchmal in verschnörkelter Handschrift. Es sollte ein Testlauf für einen Gedichtband sein. Die Likes und steigenden Followerzahlen gaben ihr recht: Als

15 Clara anfing, lag sie bei gut tausend Followern, heute zählt sie 160-mal so viele.

Obwohl sie ihre Ideen lieber ins Handy tippt als zum Notizblock zu greifen und Verse in den sozialen Medien postet, will Clara nicht als Insta-Poetin bezeichnet werden.

„Ich verstehe nicht, was es für einen Unterschied macht, ob man etwas auf Instagram veröffentlicht oder nicht. Es ist nur ein Medium, wo man sich und das, was man macht, präsentieren

20 kann. Es ist aber keine andere Form von Lyrik“, sagt Clara Louise.

Literaturwissenschaftler Niels Penke ist anderer Meinung. Er arbeitet am Germanistischen Seminar der Universität Siegen und setzt sich unter anderem mit Popkultur auseinander. Seiner Ansicht nach zeichnen sich die Gedichte auf Instagram durch andere Charakteristika aus als konventionelle Lyrik. Während Gedichte der zeitgenössischen Lyrik oft irritieren

25 und Fragen aufwerfen, könne dies auf Instagram nicht funktionieren, sagt Penke: „Hier geht es darum, nicht zu irritieren, sondern ohne große Voraussetzungen verständlich zu sein. Nicht formal komplex, sondern formal einfach.“

Die Art des Mediums habe Auswirkungen darauf, was dort veröffentlicht wird, so der Wissenschaftler: „Der Erfolg der Instapoetry liegt vor allem darin, dass die Affordanzen des Mediums

30 befolgt werden.“ Affordanzen sind Spielregeln und Funktionsweisen, die ein Medium mit sich bringt.

„Das Formbewusstsein, ob man nun ein Sonett oder eine Ballade schreibt, spielt hier gar keine Rolle. Auf Instagram gilt es, sich möglichst kurz zu halten – es muss auf dem kleinen Bildschirm gut lesbar sein – und den Effekt zu provozieren, geliked, geteilt und kommentiert

35 zu werden.“

Außerdem prägen sentenzenhafte Verse die Instalyrik, sagt Penke. Damit werden kurze und prägnante Zeilen beschrieben, die sich dem Leser ins Gedächtnis einbrennen. „Die Lyriker veröffentlichen auf Instagram Sätze, die man sich auch als Kalenderspruch vorstellen, auf ein T-Shirt drucken oder auf den Unterarm tätowieren lassen kann“, sagt Penke.

40 Tatsächlich hat Clara schon oft Bilder von Tattoos ihrer Gedichte zugeschickt bekommen.

Sie denkt, dass die Menschen sich aus einem Grund wieder mehr nach Poesie sehnen: „Dieses Bewusstsein dafür, dass Dinge sich verändern, dass wir an einem Maximum angekommen sind und es irgendwann nicht mehr weiter nach oben geht, ist vielleicht ein Grund dafür, warum die Leute sich wieder mehr mit sich selbst befassen anstatt mit allem, was um sie

45 herum passiert.“

Niels Penke sieht dabei eine Ähnlichkeit zum jungen Goethe des Sturm und Drang. Dessen Erlebnislyrik handele ebenfalls von Erlebnissen und Empfindungen, die authentisch und glaubwürdig wirken sollten. „Von besonderen Erfahrungen authentisch zu schreiben, das hat immer schon in bestimmten lyrischen Traditionen eine Rolle gespielt“, sagt Penke.

50 Die jungen Lyriker heute würden in ihren Gedichten oft Stimmungslagen ihrer Generation aufgreifen – damit könnten sich die Nutzer identifizieren.

Anmerkungen: Die Sprachrichtigkeit betreffende Fehler im Originaltext wurden berichtigt.

bento – Magazin des Spiegel für junge Menschen von 18 bis 30

Farhad Manjoo

Let's Quit Fetishizing the Single-Family Home

When my family emigrated from our native South Africa to Southern California in the 1980s,

my parents, my sister and I fell hard for this state's endless suburban sprawl. To the four of

us, the acres of subdivisions that had been mushrooming up across California since World

War II were the embodiment of everything we'd been promised about America. A bigger-

5 than-enough house, a two-car garage and a backyard of brilliant green lawn – this was the

California Dream we'd seen on TV.

By the time I got to middle school, my immigrant family was able to afford a house with a

yard of our own – back then, California really was the land of milk and honey – and I spent

my youth in the sun-drenched suburbs. It was a fine place to grow up; in the mass-produced

10 "little boxes made of ticky-tacky" that stretch across California and much of America, I found

comfort, safety and a crucial sense of belonging in the American landscape.

And yet, wistful though I may remain for my suburban-sprawl childhood, these days I find

myself continually amazed and befuddled by my state's insane fetishization of an anachronistic

model of urban development. Why – when the case for some better way of living has become

15 so painfully obvious – can't California quit propping up its endless rows of single-family

houses? Why can't so much of America? And what level of extreme unlivability is it going

to take to finally convince us that there isn't enough space for all of us to live as if space is

infinite?

Last week, California lawmakers rejected an effort to override restrictive zoning regulations

20 across the state for the third year in a row. Most of the land available for residential development

in California is zoned for single-family homes, according to researchers at U.C. Berkeley's

Turner Center for Housing Innovation; the typical California city allows multifamily

developments like apartments, townhouses and duplexes on less than a quarter of its land.

Senate Bill 50, devised by Scott Wiener, a Democrat from San Francisco, would have

25 allowed higher-density housing near public transportation lines and job centers, fostering

affordability and sustainability in a state that desperately needs both.

In previous attempts, Wiener's idea was criticized for exacerbating gentrification and handing

over development plans from local officials to state bureaucrats. This year, Wiener

significantly amended the bill to address the critics' concerns. The latest version offered

30 greater control to local officials and delayed the legislation's impact in low-income areas

sensitive to gentrification.

But again, the bill couldn't make it through. S.B. 50 attracted fierce opposition from lawmakers

representing some of the state's ritziest suburbs and its largest cities. Even some of the bill's

putative supporters, like Gov. Gavin Newsom, who is falling well short of his campaign

35 promise to spur the development of 3.5 million new housing units by 2025, offered only

tepid endorsements.

I suspect that the reluctance stems from a reality that many politicians would prefer to avoid

accepting: The reign of the single-family home is over. Whatever its habitable charms and

nostalgic appeal, the single-family home is out of step with the future.

40 In an era constrained by sustainability and affordability, a big house with a backyard should

be a rarity. Much of California is straining under its own success: We have too many people

and too few places for them to live, offered at too-high prices, in too many areas touched-

by-climate-change-related menaces, like wildfires, all too far from where people work. And

the solution is so painfully obvious it feels almost reductive to point it out: Make it legal to

45 build more housing that houses more people.

Increasing density by replacing single-family homes with multifamily ones would be a boon

to our efforts to address climate change, and it would help with affordability. But if that is

too practical a selling point, let me offer a couple more politically salient ones.

First, there is nothing especially admirable about the development of single-family zoning

50 in America. Though the policy is now defended as a way to maintain the ineffable "local

character" of neighborhoods, single-family zoning has a history in segregation. As the

historian Richard Rothstein has documented, single-family zoning was one of the many

ways white homeowners and politicians kept African-Americans out of suburbs.

And second: We can move on from single-family housing to something better for everyone.

55 A few years ago, shut out of the skyrocketing market for single-family homes in our Northern

California suburb, my wife and I bought a townhouse. At first we thought of it as a starter

home – we'd just had our second child, and it felt like we could slum it in a townhouse for

a bit before we could move into the dream of a place with a backyard.

That dream now looks prohibitive: Houses with backyards in my neck of the woods require

60 tech-I.P.O. levels of insane wealth. But you know what? I don't feel so bad. Our attached

townhouse, on a piece of land a small fraction of the size of a single-family home, is less of

a burden on the environment, and it is just the right size for the four of us. It's also just as

loving and pleasant a place for my kids to grow up in as my own suburban manse was for me.

At some point, recently, I realized that I no longer fantasized about ever having a backyard –

65 my dream home is now a townhouse, and if it's good enough for me, perhaps it could be

good enough for others in my state, too.

Annotations

10

"little boxes made of ticky-tacky" – line taken from a popular song, referring to suburban houses made of inferior or cheap material

19

zoning regulations – laws concerning land use that fall under the powers of state and local governments

24

Senate Bill – proposed legislation originated in the California State Senate

27

gentrification – process of changing the character of an urban district through wealthier residents and businesses

32

S. B. (Senate Bill)

59

neck of the woods – area someone comes from

60

tech-I.P.O. (Initial Public Offering) – here: very high

1. Outline Farhad Manjoo's views on his personal housing situation in the past and present. (Comprehension) [12 Punkte]

Farhad Manjoo

Let's Quit Fetishizing the Single-Family Home

When my family emigrated from our native South Africa to Southern California in the 1980s,

my parents, my sister and I fell hard for this state's endless suburban sprawl. To the four of

us, the acres of subdivisions that had been mushrooming up across California since World

War II were the embodiment of everything we'd been promised about America. A bigger-

5 than-enough house, a two-car garage and a backyard of brilliant green lawn – this was the

California Dream we'd seen on TV.

By the time I got to middle school, my immigrant family was able to afford a house with a

yard of our own – back then, California really was the land of milk and honey – and I spent

my youth in the sun-drenched suburbs. It was a fine place to grow up; in the mass-produced

10 "little boxes made of ticky-tacky" that stretch across California and much of America, I found

comfort, safety and a crucial sense of belonging in the American landscape.

And yet, wistful though I may remain for my suburban-sprawl childhood, these days I find

myself continually amazed and befuddled by my state's insane fetishization of an anachronistic

model of urban development. Why – when the case for some better way of living has become

15 so painfully obvious – can't California quit propping up its endless rows of single-family

houses? Why can't so much of America? And what level of extreme unlivability is it going

to take to finally convince us that there isn't enough space for all of us to live as if space is

infinite?

Last week, California lawmakers rejected an effort to override restrictive zoning regulations

20 across the state for the third year in a row. Most of the land available for residential development

in California is zoned for single-family homes, according to researchers at U.C. Berkeley's

Turner Center for Housing Innovation; the typical California city allows multifamily

developments like apartments, townhouses and duplexes on less than a quarter of its land.

Senate Bill 50, devised by Scott Wiener, a Democrat from San Francisco, would have

25 allowed higher-density housing near public transportation lines and job centers, fostering

affordability and sustainability in a state that desperately needs both.

In previous attempts, Wiener's idea was criticized for exacerbating gentrification and handing

over development plans from local officials to state bureaucrats. This year, Wiener

significantly amended the bill to address the critics' concerns. The latest version offered

30 greater control to local officials and delayed the legislation's impact in low-income areas

sensitive to gentrification.

But again, the bill couldn't make it through. S.B. 50 attracted fierce opposition from lawmakers

representing some of the state's ritziest suburbs and its largest cities. Even some of the bill's

putative supporters, like Gov. Gavin Newsom, who is falling well short of his campaign

35 promise to spur the development of 3.5 million new housing units by 2025, offered only

tepid endorsements.

I suspect that the reluctance stems from a reality that many politicians would prefer to avoid

accepting: The reign of the single-family home is over. Whatever its habitable charms and

nostalgic appeal, the single-family home is out of step with the future.

40 In an era constrained by sustainability and affordability, a big house with a backyard should

be a rarity. Much of California is straining under its own success: We have too many people

and too few places for them to live, offered at too-high prices, in too many areas touched-

by-climate-change-related menaces, like wildfires, all too far from where people work. And

the solution is so painfully obvious it feels almost reductive to point it out: Make it legal to

45 build more housing that houses more people.

Increasing density by replacing single-family homes with multifamily ones would be a boon

to our efforts to address climate change, and it would help with affordability. But if that is

too practical a selling point, let me offer a couple more politically salient ones.

First, there is nothing especially admirable about the development of single-family zoning

50 in America. Though the policy is now defended as a way to maintain the ineffable "local

character" of neighborhoods, single-family zoning has a history in segregation. As the

historian Richard Rothstein has documented, single-family zoning was one of the many

ways white homeowners and politicians kept African-Americans out of suburbs.

And second: We can move on from single-family housing to something better for everyone.

55 A few years ago, shut out of the skyrocketing market for single-family homes in our Northern

California suburb, my wife and I bought a townhouse. At first we thought of it as a starter

home – we'd just had our second child, and it felt like we could slum it in a townhouse for

a bit before we could move into the dream of a place with a backyard.

That dream now looks prohibitive: Houses with backyards in my neck of the woods require

60 tech-I.P.O. levels of insane wealth. But you know what? I don't feel so bad. Our attached

townhouse, on a piece of land a small fraction of the size of a single-family home, is less of

a burden on the environment, and it is just the right size for the four of us. It's also just as

loving and pleasant a place for my kids to grow up in as my own suburban manse was for me.

At some point, recently, I realized that I no longer fantasized about ever having a backyard –

65 my dream home is now a townhouse, and if it's good enough for me, perhaps it could be

good enough for others in my state, too.

Annotations

10

"little boxes made of ticky-tacky" – line taken from a popular song, referring to suburban houses made of inferior or cheap material

19

zoning regulations – laws concerning land use that fall under the powers of state and local governments

24

Senate Bill – proposed legislation originated in the California State Senate

27

gentrification – process of changing the character of an urban district through wealthier residents and businesses

32

S. B. (Senate Bill)

59

neck of the woods – area someone comes from

60

tech-I.P.O. (Initial Public Offering) – here: very high

2. Analyse the way in which the author conveys his view of California's present housing policy. Concentrate on communicative strategies and the use of language. (Analysis) [16 Punkte]

Farhad Manjoo

Let's Quit Fetishizing the Single-Family Home

When my family emigrated from our native South Africa to Southern California in the 1980s,

my parents, my sister and I fell hard for this state's endless suburban sprawl. To the four of

us, the acres of subdivisions that had been mushrooming up across California since World

War II were the embodiment of everything we'd been promised about America. A bigger-

5 than-enough house, a two-car garage and a backyard of brilliant green lawn – this was the

California Dream we'd seen on TV.

By the time I got to middle school, my immigrant family was able to afford a house with a

yard of our own – back then, California really was the land of milk and honey – and I spent

my youth in the sun-drenched suburbs. It was a fine place to grow up; in the mass-produced

10 "little boxes made of ticky-tacky" that stretch across California and much of America, I found

comfort, safety and a crucial sense of belonging in the American landscape.

And yet, wistful though I may remain for my suburban-sprawl childhood, these days I find

myself continually amazed and befuddled by my state's insane fetishization of an anachronistic

model of urban development. Why – when the case for some better way of living has become

15 so painfully obvious – can't California quit propping up its endless rows of single-family

houses? Why can't so much of America? And what level of extreme unlivability is it going

to take to finally convince us that there isn't enough space for all of us to live as if space is

infinite?

Last week, California lawmakers rejected an effort to override restrictive zoning regulations

20 across the state for the third year in a row. Most of the land available for residential development

in California is zoned for single-family homes, according to researchers at U.C. Berkeley's

Turner Center for Housing Innovation; the typical California city allows multifamily

developments like apartments, townhouses and duplexes on less than a quarter of its land.

Senate Bill 50, devised by Scott Wiener, a Democrat from San Francisco, would have

25 allowed higher-density housing near public transportation lines and job centers, fostering

affordability and sustainability in a state that desperately needs both.

In previous attempts, Wiener's idea was criticized for exacerbating gentrification and handing

over development plans from local officials to state bureaucrats. This year, Wiener

significantly amended the bill to address the critics' concerns. The latest version offered

30 greater control to local officials and delayed the legislation's impact in low-income areas

sensitive to gentrification.

But again, the bill couldn't make it through. S.B. 50 attracted fierce opposition from lawmakers

representing some of the state's ritziest suburbs and its largest cities. Even some of the bill's

putative supporters, like Gov. Gavin Newsom, who is falling well short of his campaign

35 promise to spur the development of 3.5 million new housing units by 2025, offered only

tepid endorsements.

I suspect that the reluctance stems from a reality that many politicians would prefer to avoid

accepting: The reign of the single-family home is over. Whatever its habitable charms and

nostalgic appeal, the single-family home is out of step with the future.

40 In an era constrained by sustainability and affordability, a big house with a backyard should

be a rarity. Much of California is straining under its own success: We have too many people

and too few places for them to live, offered at too-high prices, in too many areas touched-

by-climate-change-related menaces, like wildfires, all too far from where people work. And

the solution is so painfully obvious it feels almost reductive to point it out: Make it legal to

45 build more housing that houses more people.

Increasing density by replacing single-family homes with multifamily ones would be a boon

to our efforts to address climate change, and it would help with affordability. But if that is

too practical a selling point, let me offer a couple more politically salient ones.

First, there is nothing especially admirable about the development of single-family zoning

50 in America. Though the policy is now defended as a way to maintain the ineffable "local

character" of neighborhoods, single-family zoning has a history in segregation. As the

historian Richard Rothstein has documented, single-family zoning was one of the many

ways white homeowners and politicians kept African-Americans out of suburbs.

And second: We can move on from single-family housing to something better for everyone.

55 A few years ago, shut out of the skyrocketing market for single-family homes in our Northern

California suburb, my wife and I bought a townhouse. At first we thought of it as a starter

home – we'd just had our second child, and it felt like we could slum it in a townhouse for

a bit before we could move into the dream of a place with a backyard.

That dream now looks prohibitive: Houses with backyards in my neck of the woods require

60 tech-I.P.O. levels of insane wealth. But you know what? I don't feel so bad. Our attached

townhouse, on a piece of land a small fraction of the size of a single-family home, is less of

a burden on the environment, and it is just the right size for the four of us. It's also just as

loving and pleasant a place for my kids to grow up in as my own suburban manse was for me.

At some point, recently, I realized that I no longer fantasized about ever having a backyard –

65 my dream home is now a townhouse, and if it's good enough for me, perhaps it could be

good enough for others in my state, too.

Annotations

10

"little boxes made of ticky-tacky" – line taken from a popular song, referring to suburban houses made of inferior or cheap material

19

zoning regulations – laws concerning land use that fall under the powers of state and local governments

24

Senate Bill – proposed legislation originated in the California State Senate

27

gentrification – process of changing the character of an urban district through wealthier residents and businesses

32

S. B. (Senate Bill)

59

neck of the woods – area someone comes from

60

tech-I.P.O. (Initial Public Offering) – here: very high

3.1 Farhad Manjoo came to the United States in the 1980s and "found comfort, safety and a crucial sense of belonging in the American landscape" (ll. 10 – 11).

Discuss to what extent people in the USA today may have a similar experience. Draw on what you know about the American Dream and on present-day social and political developments. (Evaluation: comment) [14 Punkte]

Farhad Manjoo

Let's Quit Fetishizing the Single-Family Home

When my family emigrated from our native South Africa to Southern California in the 1980s,

my parents, my sister and I fell hard for this state's endless suburban sprawl. To the four of

us, the acres of subdivisions that had been mushrooming up across California since World

War II were the embodiment of everything we'd been promised about America. A bigger-

5 than-enough house, a two-car garage and a backyard of brilliant green lawn – this was the

California Dream we'd seen on TV.

By the time I got to middle school, my immigrant family was able to afford a house with a

yard of our own – back then, California really was the land of milk and honey – and I spent

my youth in the sun-drenched suburbs. It was a fine place to grow up; in the mass-produced

10 "little boxes made of ticky-tacky" that stretch across California and much of America, I found

comfort, safety and a crucial sense of belonging in the American landscape.

And yet, wistful though I may remain for my suburban-sprawl childhood, these days I find

myself continually amazed and befuddled by my state's insane fetishization of an anachronistic

model of urban development. Why – when the case for some better way of living has become

15 so painfully obvious – can't California quit propping up its endless rows of single-family

houses? Why can't so much of America? And what level of extreme unlivability is it going

to take to finally convince us that there isn't enough space for all of us to live as if space is

infinite?

Last week, California lawmakers rejected an effort to override restrictive zoning regulations

20 across the state for the third year in a row. Most of the land available for residential development

in California is zoned for single-family homes, according to researchers at U.C. Berkeley's

Turner Center for Housing Innovation; the typical California city allows multifamily

developments like apartments, townhouses and duplexes on less than a quarter of its land.

Senate Bill 50, devised by Scott Wiener, a Democrat from San Francisco, would have

25 allowed higher-density housing near public transportation lines and job centers, fostering

affordability and sustainability in a state that desperately needs both.

In previous attempts, Wiener's idea was criticized for exacerbating gentrification and handing

over development plans from local officials to state bureaucrats. This year, Wiener

significantly amended the bill to address the critics' concerns. The latest version offered

30 greater control to local officials and delayed the legislation's impact in low-income areas

sensitive to gentrification.

But again, the bill couldn't make it through. S.B. 50 attracted fierce opposition from lawmakers

representing some of the state's ritziest suburbs and its largest cities. Even some of the bill's

putative supporters, like Gov. Gavin Newsom, who is falling well short of his campaign

35 promise to spur the development of 3.5 million new housing units by 2025, offered only

tepid endorsements.

I suspect that the reluctance stems from a reality that many politicians would prefer to avoid

accepting: The reign of the single-family home is over. Whatever its habitable charms and

nostalgic appeal, the single-family home is out of step with the future.

40 In an era constrained by sustainability and affordability, a big house with a backyard should

be a rarity. Much of California is straining under its own success: We have too many people

and too few places for them to live, offered at too-high prices, in too many areas touched-

by-climate-change-related menaces, like wildfires, all too far from where people work. And

the solution is so painfully obvious it feels almost reductive to point it out: Make it legal to

45 build more housing that houses more people.

Increasing density by replacing single-family homes with multifamily ones would be a boon

to our efforts to address climate change, and it would help with affordability. But if that is

too practical a selling point, let me offer a couple more politically salient ones.

First, there is nothing especially admirable about the development of single-family zoning

50 in America. Though the policy is now defended as a way to maintain the ineffable "local

character" of neighborhoods, single-family zoning has a history in segregation. As the

historian Richard Rothstein has documented, single-family zoning was one of the many

ways white homeowners and politicians kept African-Americans out of suburbs.

And second: We can move on from single-family housing to something better for everyone.

55 A few years ago, shut out of the skyrocketing market for single-family homes in our Northern

California suburb, my wife and I bought a townhouse. At first we thought of it as a starter

home – we'd just had our second child, and it felt like we could slum it in a townhouse for

a bit before we could move into the dream of a place with a backyard.

That dream now looks prohibitive: Houses with backyards in my neck of the woods require

60 tech-I.P.O. levels of insane wealth. But you know what? I don't feel so bad. Our attached

townhouse, on a piece of land a small fraction of the size of a single-family home, is less of

a burden on the environment, and it is just the right size for the four of us. It's also just as

loving and pleasant a place for my kids to grow up in as my own suburban manse was for me.

At some point, recently, I realized that I no longer fantasized about ever having a backyard –

65 my dream home is now a townhouse, and if it's good enough for me, perhaps it could be

good enough for others in my state, too.

Annotations

10

"little boxes made of ticky-tacky" – line taken from a popular song, referring to suburban houses made of inferior or cheap material

19

zoning regulations – laws concerning land use that fall under the powers of state and local governments

24

Senate Bill – proposed legislation originated in the California State Senate

27

gentrification – process of changing the character of an urban district through wealthier residents and businesses

32

S. B. (Senate Bill)

59

neck of the woods – area someone comes from

60

tech-I.P.O. (Initial Public Offering) – here: very high

3.2 You have received an invitation to participate in the international youth forum Towards a Sustainable Life on a Shrinking Planet.

Write a debate statement on the forum's topic. Draw on what you have covered in class about global environmental, social and political challenges. (Evaluation: re-creation of text) [14 Punkte]

Farhad Manjoo

Let's Quit Fetishizing the Single-Family Home

When my family emigrated from our native South Africa to Southern California in the 1980s,

my parents, my sister and I fell hard for this state's endless suburban sprawl. To the four of

us, the acres of subdivisions that had been mushrooming up across California since World

War II were the embodiment of everything we'd been promised about America. A bigger-

5 than-enough house, a two-car garage and a backyard of brilliant green lawn – this was the

California Dream we'd seen on TV.

By the time I got to middle school, my immigrant family was able to afford a house with a

yard of our own – back then, California really was the land of milk and honey – and I spent

my youth in the sun-drenched suburbs. It was a fine place to grow up; in the mass-produced

10 "little boxes made of ticky-tacky" that stretch across California and much of America, I found

comfort, safety and a crucial sense of belonging in the American landscape.

And yet, wistful though I may remain for my suburban-sprawl childhood, these days I find

myself continually amazed and befuddled by my state's insane fetishization of an anachronistic

model of urban development. Why – when the case for some better way of living has become

15 so painfully obvious – can't California quit propping up its endless rows of single-family

houses? Why can't so much of America? And what level of extreme unlivability is it going

to take to finally convince us that there isn't enough space for all of us to live as if space is

infinite?

Last week, California lawmakers rejected an effort to override restrictive zoning regulations

20 across the state for the third year in a row. Most of the land available for residential development

in California is zoned for single-family homes, according to researchers at U.C. Berkeley's

Turner Center for Housing Innovation; the typical California city allows multifamily

developments like apartments, townhouses and duplexes on less than a quarter of its land.

Senate Bill 50, devised by Scott Wiener, a Democrat from San Francisco, would have

25 allowed higher-density housing near public transportation lines and job centers, fostering

affordability and sustainability in a state that desperately needs both.

In previous attempts, Wiener's idea was criticized for exacerbating gentrification and handing

over development plans from local officials to state bureaucrats. This year, Wiener

significantly amended the bill to address the critics' concerns. The latest version offered

30 greater control to local officials and delayed the legislation's impact in low-income areas

sensitive to gentrification.

But again, the bill couldn't make it through. S.B. 50 attracted fierce opposition from lawmakers

representing some of the state's ritziest suburbs and its largest cities. Even some of the bill's

putative supporters, like Gov. Gavin Newsom, who is falling well short of his campaign

35 promise to spur the development of 3.5 million new housing units by 2025, offered only

tepid endorsements.

I suspect that the reluctance stems from a reality that many politicians would prefer to avoid

accepting: The reign of the single-family home is over. Whatever its habitable charms and

nostalgic appeal, the single-family home is out of step with the future.

40 In an era constrained by sustainability and affordability, a big house with a backyard should

be a rarity. Much of California is straining under its own success: We have too many people

and too few places for them to live, offered at too-high prices, in too many areas touched-

by-climate-change-related menaces, like wildfires, all too far from where people work. And

the solution is so painfully obvious it feels almost reductive to point it out: Make it legal to

45 build more housing that houses more people.

Increasing density by replacing single-family homes with multifamily ones would be a boon

to our efforts to address climate change, and it would help with affordability. But if that is

too practical a selling point, let me offer a couple more politically salient ones.

First, there is nothing especially admirable about the development of single-family zoning

50 in America. Though the policy is now defended as a way to maintain the ineffable "local

character" of neighborhoods, single-family zoning has a history in segregation. As the

historian Richard Rothstein has documented, single-family zoning was one of the many

ways white homeowners and politicians kept African-Americans out of suburbs.

And second: We can move on from single-family housing to something better for everyone.

55 A few years ago, shut out of the skyrocketing market for single-family homes in our Northern

California suburb, my wife and I bought a townhouse. At first we thought of it as a starter

home – we'd just had our second child, and it felt like we could slum it in a townhouse for

a bit before we could move into the dream of a place with a backyard.

That dream now looks prohibitive: Houses with backyards in my neck of the woods require

60 tech-I.P.O. levels of insane wealth. But you know what? I don't feel so bad. Our attached

townhouse, on a piece of land a small fraction of the size of a single-family home, is less of

a burden on the environment, and it is just the right size for the four of us. It's also just as

loving and pleasant a place for my kids to grow up in as my own suburban manse was for me.

At some point, recently, I realized that I no longer fantasized about ever having a backyard –

65 my dream home is now a townhouse, and if it's good enough for me, perhaps it could be

good enough for others in my state, too.

Annotations

10

"little boxes made of ticky-tacky" – line taken from a popular song, referring to suburban houses made of inferior or cheap material

19

zoning regulations – laws concerning land use that fall under the powers of state and local governments

24

Senate Bill – proposed legislation originated in the California State Senate

27

gentrification – process of changing the character of an urban district through wealthier residents and businesses

32

S. B. (Senate Bill)

59

neck of the woods – area someone comes from

60

tech-I.P.O. (Initial Public Offering) – here: very high

Klausurteil B: Sprachmittlung isoliert

4. You and your American partner school are carrying out a joint school project on current developments in urbanization. For the project's website, write an article in which you sum up the various interests concerning allotment gardens in Germany. [18 Punkte]

Christa Hasselhorst: „Kleingärten könnten Welterbe sein“

Die Journalistin und Autorin Christa Hasselhorst führt ein Interview mit dem angesehenen Landschaftsarchitekten Klaus Neumann über Kleingärten in deutschen Großstädten.

Neue Wohnungen contra Kleingärten: In vielen deutschen Städten nagen Neubaugebiete an Schrebergärten. Wie ist dieser Konflikt zu lösen?

Der ist beispielhaft ein Zeichen für den deutschland- und weltweiten Konflikt als Folge von Urbanisierung und Städtewachstum. Immer mehr Menschen wollen in die Stadt. Dadurch entsteht eine Flächenkonkurrenz. Zwangsläufig wird diese begrenzte Fläche immer wertvoller und entwickelt sich immer mehr zum Wirtschafts- und Renditefaktor. […]

In vielen deutschen Metropolen haben wir gegenwärtig eine absurde Situation. Die Menschen fordern einerseits bezahlbare Wohnungen, gesundes Lebensumfeld, gutes Klima und hohe Arbeits- und Wohnqualität. Gleichzeitig wird oftmals das, was zu all dem wesentlich beiträgt – das Grün der Stadt, auch die Kleingärten – auf dem Tableau der ökonomischen Verwertungsinteressen aufgegeben und als Bauland deklariert. Beispiel Berlin: In der Stadt stehen auf der Warteliste für einen Kleingarten circa 17 000 Menschen, die Wartezeit beträgt drei bis fünf Jahre. Ähnliches gilt auch für München. Gleichzeitig plant der Senat 3000 der mehr als 73 000 Berliner Kleingärten bis 2020 zu bebauen. Und völlig absurd: Selbst per Gesetz geschützte öffentliche Grünflächen sollen „abgeholzt“ und zu Bauland entwickelt werden.

Aber Wachstum auf Kosten der Natur, eine Reduktion der „Natur-Infrastruktur“, ist ein Fehlwachstum. Allein im letzten Jahr sind beispielsweise in Berlin die Grundstückspreise um 77 Prozent gestiegen. Es fehlt die Erkenntnis, was wirklich Lebensqualität in der Stadt bedeutet. In hochurbanisierten Räumen verändert sich das Verständnis von Landschaft und Natur. Landschaft, Stadtlandschaft ist kein unberührter Naturraum vor den Toren der Städte, sondern ein unabdingbar lebenswichtiger Bestandteil, der zu hoher Lebensqualität und einem besseren Stadtklima führt. Daher sind intelligente Stadtkonzepte, oftmals tituliert als „Smart City Designs“, welche die Potentiale von Natur und Technik vereinbaren, in Zukunft unabdingbar. Deshalb müssen wir die Stadt neu denken.

Und der Kleingarten leistet da seinen Beitrag?

Erst allmählich versteht unsere Gesellschaft, welche grünen Kleinode und Oasen das in unseren Städten sind und welche kulturelle, sozial integrative und innovative Bedeutung damit verbunden ist. Immer mehr Menschen verbringen pro Jahr mehr Zeit im Kleingarten als etwa im Fußballstadion oder in der Oper. Wenn zum Beispiel die rund 70 000 Berliner Kleingartenpächter mit drei bis fünf Personen (Familie, Freunde) einen Kleingarten nutzen, dann kommen wir auf gut 250 000 bis 350 000 Gartennutzer, von denen sich 50 Prozent fast täglich und fast 45 Prozent mehrmals in der Woche in ihrem Garten aufhalten. Rechnen Sie das bei über 900 000 Kleingärten bundesweit hoch, kommen Sie auf fast fünf Millionen Menschen. Da der Ausländeranteil in manchen Kolonien fast 25 Prozent beträgt und dort gemeinsam gepflanzt, gefeiert und zusammengelebt wird, sind Sprachkurse, Kinder- und Altenbetreuung und gegenseitige Hilfe selbstverständlich. Kleingärten leisten daher heute einen wichtigen Beitrag für soziale Integration und damit gesellschaftlichen Frieden in der Stadt.

Und die ökologische Bedeutung?

Kleingärten und Klimawandel sind ein ganz besonderes Thema. Das Insektensterben in den Städten kann überhaupt nur durch Kleingärten verhindert werden, das sind die artenreichsten, ökologisch vielfältigsten Flächen. Denn Gärten bestehen überwiegend aus Vegetation, aus Pflanzen. […]

Schrebergärten sind plötzlich hip bei jungen Paaren, gleichzeitig haftet ihnen immer noch ein Hautgout von Spießigkeit an. Wie kommt das?

Das Kleingartenwesen blickt auf eine über 150 Jahre alte Tradition zurück. Vorläufer der heutigen Kleingärten waren die sogenannten Armengärten des 19. Jahrhunderts. Eine weitere Wurzel der Bewegung geht auf die Ideen des Leipziger Arztes Dr. Schreber zurück. Das negative Image beruht auf dieser Vergangenheit, und viele Kleingärtner leben noch im Vorgestern, auch ein ungeschicktes Outfit der Anlagen verpasst ihnen das Etikett „miefig“ und „piefig“.

Ein Deutschland ohne Kleingärten wäre außerdem nur schwer vorstellbar …

Das Kleingartenwesen mit seinen Strukturen, mit sozialen, ökologischen und kulturellen Aufgaben ist in der Welt einzigartig. Daher sollte man Kleingärten als ein Stück deutscher Gesellschaftsentwicklung, Bau- und Geschichtskultur betrachten. […] Darum könnte man Kleingärten ins Weltkulturerbe aufnehmen!

Anmerkungen: Hautgout – hier: Beigeschmack; piefig – umgangssprachlich: altmodisch, unmodern, spießig

Klausurteil A

David Olusoga

The toppling of Edward Colston’s statue is not an attack on history. It is history

For people who don’t know Bristol, the real shock when they heard that the statue of a

17th-century slave trader had been torn from its plinth and thrown into the harbour was that

21st-century Bristol still had a statue of a slave trader on public display. […]

Edward Colston, the man in question, was a board member and ultimately the deputy

5 governor of the Royal African Company. In those roles he helped to oversee the transportation

into slavery of an estimated 84,000 Africans. Of them, it is believed, around 19,000 died in

the stagnant bellies of the company’s slave ships during the infamous Middle Passage from

the coast of Africa to the plantations of the new world. The bodies of the dead were cast into

the water where they were devoured by the sharks that, over the centuries of the Atlantic

10 slave trade, learned to seek out slave ships and follow the bloody paths of slave routes across

the ocean. This is the man who, for 125 years, has been honoured by Bristol. Put literally on

a pedestal in the very heart of the city. But tonight Edward Colston sleeps with the fishes.

The historical symmetry of this moment is poetic. A bronze effigy of an infamous and prolific

slave trader dragged through the streets of a city built on the wealth of that trade, and then

15 dumped, like the victims of the Middle Passage, into the water. Colston lies at the bottom

of a harbour in which the ships of the triangular slave trade once moored, by the dockside

on to which their cargoes were unloaded. […]

The crowd who saw to it that Colston fell were of all races, but some were the descendants

of the enslaved black and brown Bristolians whose ancestors were chained to the decks of

20 Colston’s ships. Ripped from his pedestal, Colston seemed smaller: diminished in both size

and potency. Lying flat, with his studied pensive pose, he looked suddenly preposterous. It

was when the statue was in this position that one of the protesters made a grim but powerful

gesture. By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston, he reminded us of

the unlikely catalyst for these remarkable events.

25 The fact that a man who died 299 years ago is today on the front pages of most of Britain’s

newspapers suggests that Bristol has not been brilliant at coming to terms with its history.

Despite the valiant and persistent efforts of campaigners, all attempts to have the statue

peacefully removed were thwarted by Colston’s legion of defenders. In 2019, attempts to

fix a plaque to the pedestal collapsed after Bristol’s Society of Merchant Venturers, the high

30 priests of the Colston cult, insisted on watering down the text, adding qualifications that, it

was felt, had the effect of minimising his crimes. Yet what repulsed many about the statue

was not that it valorised Colston but that it was silent about his victims, those whose lives

were destroyed to build the fortune he lavished upon the city.

The long defence of the figure and Colston’s reputation was overt and shameless, but not

35 unique. In other British cities other men who grew rich through the trafficking of human

beings or who defended the “respectable trade” are venerated in bronze and marble. In

Edinburgh’s St Andrew Square, on a pedestal 150 feet high, stands Viscount Melville,

Henry Dundas, another of history’s guilty men. His great contribution to civilisation was to

water down and delay attempts to pass an act abolishing the slave trade. Historians struggle

40 to estimate how many thousands died or were transported into slavery because of his actions.

Already social media is ablaze with calls for Dundas to be thrown into the Forth.

Today is the first full day since 1895 on which the effigy of a mass murderer does not cast

its shadow over Bristol’s city centre. Those who lament the dawning of this day, and who

are appalled by what happened on Sunday, need to ask themselves some difficult questions.

45 Do they honestly believe that Bristol was a better place yesterday because the figure of a

slave trader stood at its centre? Are they genuinely unable – even now – to understand why

those descended from Colston’s victims have always regarded his statue as an outrage and

for decades pleaded for its removal?

If they do not confront such questions they risk becoming lost in the same labyrinth of moral

50 bewilderment in which some of Colston’s defenders became entrapped in 2017. That year

Colston Hall, Bristol’s prime concert venue, and one of the many institutions named after

the slave trader, announced that it was to change its name. In response, a number of otherwise

reasonable decent people announced that they would be boycotting the hall. Think about

that for a moment. Rational, educated, 21st-century people earnestly concluded that they

55 were taking a moral stance by refusing to listen to music performed within the walls of a

concert hall unless that venue was named after a man who bought, sold and killed human

beings.

Now is not the time for those who for so long defended the indefensible to contort

themselves into some new, supposedly moral stance, or play the victim. Their strategy of

60 heel-dragging and obfuscation was predicated on one fundamental assumption: that what

happened on Sunday would never happen. They were confident that black people and brown

people who call Bristol their home would forever tolerate living under the shadow of a man

who traded in human flesh, that the power to decide whether Colston stood or fell lay in their

hands. They were wrong on every level. Whatever is said over the next few days, this was

65 not an attack on history. This is history. It is one of those rare historic moments whose arrival

means things can never go back to how they were.

Annotations:

23 By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston… – reference to the killing of the African-American George Floyd, who became the victim of police violence on 25 May 2020

29 Society of Merchant Venturers – society formerly specialised in sea trading from and to Bristol, including slaves from West Africa

41 Forth – Firth of Forth, embayment where several Scottish rivers meet

60 heel-dragging – reluctant to act

Klausurteil A: Leseverstehen und Schreiben integriert

1. Outline the dispute surrounding the Colston statue in Bristol as it is portrayed in the article.

(Comprehension) (12 Punkte)

Klausurteil A

David Olusoga

The toppling of Edward Colston’s statue is not an attack on history. It is history

For people who don’t know Bristol, the real shock when they heard that the statue of a

17th-century slave trader had been torn from its plinth and thrown into the harbour was that

21st-century Bristol still had a statue of a slave trader on public display. […]

Edward Colston, the man in question, was a board member and ultimately the deputy

5 governor of the Royal African Company. In those roles he helped to oversee the transportation

into slavery of an estimated 84,000 Africans. Of them, it is believed, around 19,000 died in

the stagnant bellies of the company’s slave ships during the infamous Middle Passage from

the coast of Africa to the plantations of the new world. The bodies of the dead were cast into

the water where they were devoured by the sharks that, over the centuries of the Atlantic

10 slave trade, learned to seek out slave ships and follow the bloody paths of slave routes across

the ocean. This is the man who, for 125 years, has been honoured by Bristol. Put literally on

a pedestal in the very heart of the city. But tonight Edward Colston sleeps with the fishes.

The historical symmetry of this moment is poetic. A bronze effigy of an infamous and prolific

slave trader dragged through the streets of a city built on the wealth of that trade, and then

15 dumped, like the victims of the Middle Passage, into the water. Colston lies at the bottom

of a harbour in which the ships of the triangular slave trade once moored, by the dockside

on to which their cargoes were unloaded. […]

The crowd who saw to it that Colston fell were of all races, but some were the descendants

of the enslaved black and brown Bristolians whose ancestors were chained to the decks of

20 Colston’s ships. Ripped from his pedestal, Colston seemed smaller: diminished in both size

and potency. Lying flat, with his studied pensive pose, he looked suddenly preposterous. It

was when the statue was in this position that one of the protesters made a grim but powerful

gesture. By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston, he reminded us of

the unlikely catalyst for these remarkable events.

25 The fact that a man who died 299 years ago is today on the front pages of most of Britain’s

newspapers suggests that Bristol has not been brilliant at coming to terms with its history.

Despite the valiant and persistent efforts of campaigners, all attempts to have the statue

peacefully removed were thwarted by Colston’s legion of defenders. In 2019, attempts to

fix a plaque to the pedestal collapsed after Bristol’s Society of Merchant Venturers, the high

30 priests of the Colston cult, insisted on watering down the text, adding qualifications that, it

was felt, had the effect of minimising his crimes. Yet what repulsed many about the statue

was not that it valorised Colston but that it was silent about his victims, those whose lives

were destroyed to build the fortune he lavished upon the city.

The long defence of the figure and Colston’s reputation was overt and shameless, but not

35 unique. In other British cities other men who grew rich through the trafficking of human

beings or who defended the “respectable trade” are venerated in bronze and marble. In

Edinburgh’s St Andrew Square, on a pedestal 150 feet high, stands Viscount Melville,

Henry Dundas, another of history’s guilty men. His great contribution to civilisation was to

water down and delay attempts to pass an act abolishing the slave trade. Historians struggle

40 to estimate how many thousands died or were transported into slavery because of his actions.

Already social media is ablaze with calls for Dundas to be thrown into the Forth.

Today is the first full day since 1895 on which the effigy of a mass murderer does not cast

its shadow over Bristol’s city centre. Those who lament the dawning of this day, and who

are appalled by what happened on Sunday, need to ask themselves some difficult questions.

45 Do they honestly believe that Bristol was a better place yesterday because the figure of a

slave trader stood at its centre? Are they genuinely unable – even now – to understand why

those descended from Colston’s victims have always regarded his statue as an outrage and

for decades pleaded for its removal?

If they do not confront such questions they risk becoming lost in the same labyrinth of moral

50 bewilderment in which some of Colston’s defenders became entrapped in 2017. That year

Colston Hall, Bristol’s prime concert venue, and one of the many institutions named after

the slave trader, announced that it was to change its name. In response, a number of otherwise

reasonable decent people announced that they would be boycotting the hall. Think about

that for a moment. Rational, educated, 21st-century people earnestly concluded that they

55 were taking a moral stance by refusing to listen to music performed within the walls of a

concert hall unless that venue was named after a man who bought, sold and killed human

beings.

Now is not the time for those who for so long defended the indefensible to contort

themselves into some new, supposedly moral stance, or play the victim. Their strategy of

60 heel-dragging and obfuscation was predicated on one fundamental assumption: that what

happened on Sunday would never happen. They were confident that black people and brown

people who call Bristol their home would forever tolerate living under the shadow of a man

who traded in human flesh, that the power to decide whether Colston stood or fell lay in their

hands. They were wrong on every level. Whatever is said over the next few days, this was

65 not an attack on history. This is history. It is one of those rare historic moments whose arrival

means things can never go back to how they were.

Annotations:

23 By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston… – reference to the killing of the African-American George Floyd, who became the victim of police violence on 25 May 2020

29 Society of Merchant Venturers – society formerly specialised in sea trading from and to Bristol, including slaves from West Africa

41 Forth – Firth of Forth, embayment where several Scottish rivers meet

60 heel-dragging – reluctant to act

Klausurteil A: Leseverstehen und Schreiben integriert

2. Analyse the way in which the author conveys his opinions, concentrating on his communicative strategies and his use of language.

(Analysis) (16 Punkte)

Klausurteil A

David Olusoga

The toppling of Edward Colston’s statue is not an attack on history. It is history

For people who don’t know Bristol, the real shock when they heard that the statue of a

17th-century slave trader had been torn from its plinth and thrown into the harbour was that

21st-century Bristol still had a statue of a slave trader on public display. […]

Edward Colston, the man in question, was a board member and ultimately the deputy

5 governor of the Royal African Company. In those roles he helped to oversee the transportation

into slavery of an estimated 84,000 Africans. Of them, it is believed, around 19,000 died in

the stagnant bellies of the company’s slave ships during the infamous Middle Passage from

the coast of Africa to the plantations of the new world. The bodies of the dead were cast into

the water where they were devoured by the sharks that, over the centuries of the Atlantic

10 slave trade, learned to seek out slave ships and follow the bloody paths of slave routes across

the ocean. This is the man who, for 125 years, has been honoured by Bristol. Put literally on

a pedestal in the very heart of the city. But tonight Edward Colston sleeps with the fishes.

The historical symmetry of this moment is poetic. A bronze effigy of an infamous and prolific

slave trader dragged through the streets of a city built on the wealth of that trade, and then

15 dumped, like the victims of the Middle Passage, into the water. Colston lies at the bottom

of a harbour in which the ships of the triangular slave trade once moored, by the dockside

on to which their cargoes were unloaded. […]

The crowd who saw to it that Colston fell were of all races, but some were the descendants

of the enslaved black and brown Bristolians whose ancestors were chained to the decks of

20 Colston’s ships. Ripped from his pedestal, Colston seemed smaller: diminished in both size

and potency. Lying flat, with his studied pensive pose, he looked suddenly preposterous. It

was when the statue was in this position that one of the protesters made a grim but powerful

gesture. By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston, he reminded us of

the unlikely catalyst for these remarkable events.

25 The fact that a man who died 299 years ago is today on the front pages of most of Britain’s

newspapers suggests that Bristol has not been brilliant at coming to terms with its history.

Despite the valiant and persistent efforts of campaigners, all attempts to have the statue

peacefully removed were thwarted by Colston’s legion of defenders. In 2019, attempts to

fix a plaque to the pedestal collapsed after Bristol’s Society of Merchant Venturers, the high

30 priests of the Colston cult, insisted on watering down the text, adding qualifications that, it

was felt, had the effect of minimising his crimes. Yet what repulsed many about the statue

was not that it valorised Colston but that it was silent about his victims, those whose lives

were destroyed to build the fortune he lavished upon the city.

The long defence of the figure and Colston’s reputation was overt and shameless, but not

35 unique. In other British cities other men who grew rich through the trafficking of human

beings or who defended the “respectable trade” are venerated in bronze and marble. In

Edinburgh’s St Andrew Square, on a pedestal 150 feet high, stands Viscount Melville,

Henry Dundas, another of history’s guilty men. His great contribution to civilisation was to

water down and delay attempts to pass an act abolishing the slave trade. Historians struggle

40 to estimate how many thousands died or were transported into slavery because of his actions.

Already social media is ablaze with calls for Dundas to be thrown into the Forth.

Today is the first full day since 1895 on which the effigy of a mass murderer does not cast

its shadow over Bristol’s city centre. Those who lament the dawning of this day, and who

are appalled by what happened on Sunday, need to ask themselves some difficult questions.

45 Do they honestly believe that Bristol was a better place yesterday because the figure of a

slave trader stood at its centre? Are they genuinely unable – even now – to understand why

those descended from Colston’s victims have always regarded his statue as an outrage and

for decades pleaded for its removal?

If they do not confront such questions they risk becoming lost in the same labyrinth of moral

50 bewilderment in which some of Colston’s defenders became entrapped in 2017. That year

Colston Hall, Bristol’s prime concert venue, and one of the many institutions named after

the slave trader, announced that it was to change its name. In response, a number of otherwise

reasonable decent people announced that they would be boycotting the hall. Think about

that for a moment. Rational, educated, 21st-century people earnestly concluded that they

55 were taking a moral stance by refusing to listen to music performed within the walls of a

concert hall unless that venue was named after a man who bought, sold and killed human

beings.

Now is not the time for those who for so long defended the indefensible to contort

themselves into some new, supposedly moral stance, or play the victim. Their strategy of

60 heel-dragging and obfuscation was predicated on one fundamental assumption: that what

happened on Sunday would never happen. They were confident that black people and brown

people who call Bristol their home would forever tolerate living under the shadow of a man

who traded in human flesh, that the power to decide whether Colston stood or fell lay in their

hands. They were wrong on every level. Whatever is said over the next few days, this was

65 not an attack on history. This is history. It is one of those rare historic moments whose arrival

means things can never go back to how they were.

Annotations:

23 By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston… – reference to the killing of the African-American George Floyd, who became the victim of police violence on 25 May 2020

29 Society of Merchant Venturers – society formerly specialised in sea trading from and to Bristol, including slaves from West Africa

41 Forth – Firth of Forth, embayment where several Scottish rivers meet

60 heel-dragging – reluctant to act

Klausurteil A: Leseverstehen und Schreiben integriert

3.1 According to David Olusoga the toppling of Edward Colston's statue "is one of those rare historic moments whose arrival means things can never go back to how they were" (ll. 65–66). Assess the extent to which this perspective on the events in Bristol accurately reflects recent developments in multicultural Britain.

(Evaluation: comment) (14 Punkte)

Klausurteil A

David Olusoga

The toppling of Edward Colston’s statue is not an attack on history. It is history

For people who don’t know Bristol, the real shock when they heard that the statue of a

17th-century slave trader had been torn from its plinth and thrown into the harbour was that

21st-century Bristol still had a statue of a slave trader on public display. […]

Edward Colston, the man in question, was a board member and ultimately the deputy

5 governor of the Royal African Company. In those roles he helped to oversee the transportation

into slavery of an estimated 84,000 Africans. Of them, it is believed, around 19,000 died in

the stagnant bellies of the company’s slave ships during the infamous Middle Passage from

the coast of Africa to the plantations of the new world. The bodies of the dead were cast into

the water where they were devoured by the sharks that, over the centuries of the Atlantic

10 slave trade, learned to seek out slave ships and follow the bloody paths of slave routes across

the ocean. This is the man who, for 125 years, has been honoured by Bristol. Put literally on

a pedestal in the very heart of the city. But tonight Edward Colston sleeps with the fishes.

The historical symmetry of this moment is poetic. A bronze effigy of an infamous and prolific

slave trader dragged through the streets of a city built on the wealth of that trade, and then

15 dumped, like the victims of the Middle Passage, into the water. Colston lies at the bottom

of a harbour in which the ships of the triangular slave trade once moored, by the dockside

on to which their cargoes were unloaded. […]

The crowd who saw to it that Colston fell were of all races, but some were the descendants

of the enslaved black and brown Bristolians whose ancestors were chained to the decks of

20 Colston’s ships. Ripped from his pedestal, Colston seemed smaller: diminished in both size

and potency. Lying flat, with his studied pensive pose, he looked suddenly preposterous. It

was when the statue was in this position that one of the protesters made a grim but powerful

gesture. By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston, he reminded us of

the unlikely catalyst for these remarkable events.

25 The fact that a man who died 299 years ago is today on the front pages of most of Britain’s

newspapers suggests that Bristol has not been brilliant at coming to terms with its history.

Despite the valiant and persistent efforts of campaigners, all attempts to have the statue

peacefully removed were thwarted by Colston’s legion of defenders. In 2019, attempts to

fix a plaque to the pedestal collapsed after Bristol’s Society of Merchant Venturers, the high

30 priests of the Colston cult, insisted on watering down the text, adding qualifications that, it

was felt, had the effect of minimising his crimes. Yet what repulsed many about the statue

was not that it valorised Colston but that it was silent about his victims, those whose lives

were destroyed to build the fortune he lavished upon the city.

The long defence of the figure and Colston’s reputation was overt and shameless, but not

35 unique. In other British cities other men who grew rich through the trafficking of human

beings or who defended the “respectable trade” are venerated in bronze and marble. In

Edinburgh’s St Andrew Square, on a pedestal 150 feet high, stands Viscount Melville,

Henry Dundas, another of history’s guilty men. His great contribution to civilisation was to

water down and delay attempts to pass an act abolishing the slave trade. Historians struggle

40 to estimate how many thousands died or were transported into slavery because of his actions.

Already social media is ablaze with calls for Dundas to be thrown into the Forth.

Today is the first full day since 1895 on which the effigy of a mass murderer does not cast

its shadow over Bristol’s city centre. Those who lament the dawning of this day, and who

are appalled by what happened on Sunday, need to ask themselves some difficult questions.

45 Do they honestly believe that Bristol was a better place yesterday because the figure of a

slave trader stood at its centre? Are they genuinely unable – even now – to understand why

those descended from Colston’s victims have always regarded his statue as an outrage and

for decades pleaded for its removal?

If they do not confront such questions they risk becoming lost in the same labyrinth of moral

50 bewilderment in which some of Colston’s defenders became entrapped in 2017. That year

Colston Hall, Bristol’s prime concert venue, and one of the many institutions named after

the slave trader, announced that it was to change its name. In response, a number of otherwise

reasonable decent people announced that they would be boycotting the hall. Think about

that for a moment. Rational, educated, 21st-century people earnestly concluded that they

55 were taking a moral stance by refusing to listen to music performed within the walls of a

concert hall unless that venue was named after a man who bought, sold and killed human

beings.

Now is not the time for those who for so long defended the indefensible to contort

themselves into some new, supposedly moral stance, or play the victim. Their strategy of

60 heel-dragging and obfuscation was predicated on one fundamental assumption: that what

happened on Sunday would never happen. They were confident that black people and brown

people who call Bristol their home would forever tolerate living under the shadow of a man

who traded in human flesh, that the power to decide whether Colston stood or fell lay in their

hands. They were wrong on every level. Whatever is said over the next few days, this was

65 not an attack on history. This is history. It is one of those rare historic moments whose arrival

means things can never go back to how they were.

Annotations:

23 By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston… – reference to the killing of the African-American George Floyd, who became the victim of police violence on 25 May 2020

29 Society of Merchant Venturers – society formerly specialised in sea trading from and to Bristol, including slaves from West Africa

41 Forth – Firth of Forth, embayment where several Scottish rivers meet

60 heel-dragging – reluctant to act

3. Select one of the following tasks:

3.2

In the USA, journalists have lost their jobs after criticising, in their articles, the violent toppling of historical statues. Jonathan Turley, Professor of Public Interest Law, reacts with this warning: “We are experiencing one of the greatest threats to free speech in our history and it is coming, not from the government, but from the public.”

Taking this statement as your starting point, write a letter to Turley in which you reflect on how important free speech is in the USA, considering both American myths and realities.

(Evaluation: re-creation of text) [14 Punkte]

Klausurteil A

David Olusoga

The toppling of Edward Colston’s statue is not an attack on history. It is history

For people who don’t know Bristol, the real shock when they heard that the statue of a

17th-century slave trader had been torn from its plinth and thrown into the harbour was that

21st-century Bristol still had a statue of a slave trader on public display. […]

Edward Colston, the man in question, was a board member and ultimately the deputy

5 governor of the Royal African Company. In those roles he helped to oversee the transportation

into slavery of an estimated 84,000 Africans. Of them, it is believed, around 19,000 died in

the stagnant bellies of the company’s slave ships during the infamous Middle Passage from

the coast of Africa to the plantations of the new world. The bodies of the dead were cast into

the water where they were devoured by the sharks that, over the centuries of the Atlantic

10 slave trade, learned to seek out slave ships and follow the bloody paths of slave routes across

the ocean. This is the man who, for 125 years, has been honoured by Bristol. Put literally on

a pedestal in the very heart of the city. But tonight Edward Colston sleeps with the fishes.

The historical symmetry of this moment is poetic. A bronze effigy of an infamous and prolific

slave trader dragged through the streets of a city built on the wealth of that trade, and then

15 dumped, like the victims of the Middle Passage, into the water. Colston lies at the bottom

of a harbour in which the ships of the triangular slave trade once moored, by the dockside

on to which their cargoes were unloaded. […]

The crowd who saw to it that Colston fell were of all races, but some were the descendants

of the enslaved black and brown Bristolians whose ancestors were chained to the decks of

20 Colston’s ships. Ripped from his pedestal, Colston seemed smaller: diminished in both size

and potency. Lying flat, with his studied pensive pose, he looked suddenly preposterous. It

was when the statue was in this position that one of the protesters made a grim but powerful

gesture. By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston, he reminded us of

the unlikely catalyst for these remarkable events.

25 The fact that a man who died 299 years ago is today on the front pages of most of Britain’s

newspapers suggests that Bristol has not been brilliant at coming to terms with its history.

Despite the valiant and persistent efforts of campaigners, all attempts to have the statue

peacefully removed were thwarted by Colston’s legion of defenders. In 2019, attempts to

fix a plaque to the pedestal collapsed after Bristol’s Society of Merchant Venturers, the high

30 priests of the Colston cult, insisted on watering down the text, adding qualifications that, it

was felt, had the effect of minimising his crimes. Yet what repulsed many about the statue

was not that it valorised Colston but that it was silent about his victims, those whose lives

were destroyed to build the fortune he lavished upon the city.

The long defence of the figure and Colston’s reputation was overt and shameless, but not

35 unique. In other British cities other men who grew rich through the trafficking of human

beings or who defended the “respectable trade” are venerated in bronze and marble. In

Edinburgh’s St Andrew Square, on a pedestal 150 feet high, stands Viscount Melville,

Henry Dundas, another of history’s guilty men. His great contribution to civilisation was to

water down and delay attempts to pass an act abolishing the slave trade. Historians struggle

40 to estimate how many thousands died or were transported into slavery because of his actions.

Already social media is ablaze with calls for Dundas to be thrown into the Forth.

Today is the first full day since 1895 on which the effigy of a mass murderer does not cast

its shadow over Bristol’s city centre. Those who lament the dawning of this day, and who

are appalled by what happened on Sunday, need to ask themselves some difficult questions.

45 Do they honestly believe that Bristol was a better place yesterday because the figure of a

slave trader stood at its centre? Are they genuinely unable – even now – to understand why

those descended from Colston’s victims have always regarded his statue as an outrage and

for decades pleaded for its removal?

If they do not confront such questions they risk becoming lost in the same labyrinth of moral

50 bewilderment in which some of Colston’s defenders became entrapped in 2017. That year

Colston Hall, Bristol’s prime concert venue, and one of the many institutions named after

the slave trader, announced that it was to change its name. In response, a number of otherwise

reasonable decent people announced that they would be boycotting the hall. Think about

that for a moment. Rational, educated, 21st-century people earnestly concluded that they

55 were taking a moral stance by refusing to listen to music performed within the walls of a

concert hall unless that venue was named after a man who bought, sold and killed human

beings.

Now is not the time for those who for so long defended the indefensible to contort

themselves into some new, supposedly moral stance, or play the victim. Their strategy of

60 heel-dragging and obfuscation was predicated on one fundamental assumption: that what

happened on Sunday would never happen. They were confident that black people and brown

people who call Bristol their home would forever tolerate living under the shadow of a man

who traded in human flesh, that the power to decide whether Colston stood or fell lay in their

hands. They were wrong on every level. Whatever is said over the next few days, this was

65 not an attack on history. This is history. It is one of those rare historic moments whose arrival

means things can never go back to how they were.

Annotations:

23 By placing his knee over the bronze throat of Edward Colston… – reference to the killing of the African-American George Floyd, who became the victim of police violence on 25 May 2020

29 Society of Merchant Venturers – society formerly specialised in sea trading from and to Bristol, including slaves from West Africa

41 Forth – Firth of Forth, embayment where several Scottish rivers meet

60 heel-dragging – reluctant to act

Klausurteil B: Sprachmittlung isoliert

4.

Your school is part of the international project Colonial Heritage – Reconciling with History. All participants are asked to write an online article for the project website that presents how people in their own countries deal with their colonial past. While doing your research, you discovered the initiative Tear This Down. Using the interview with Simone Dede Ayivi as your basis, write the article.

(Mediation) [18 Punkte]

Ausgangstext (Interview)

Ohne Verfasserangabe

„Die kolonialen Denkmäler und Straßennamen müssen weg“

Der deutsche Kolonialismus steckt immer noch in vielen Straßennamen. Die Berliner Künstlerin Simone Dede Ayivi hat das Projekt „tearthisdown.com“ mit initiiert und fordert, Geschichte endlich sichtbar zu machen. Der Sender „radioeins“ hat ein Interview mit Ayivi geführt.

Die BVG plant, den U-Bahnhof Mohrenstraße umzubenennen. Den Schritt begründen die Berliner Verkehrsbetriebe auch mit der aktuellen Diskussion um die Black Lives Matter Proteste. Ist das eine PR-Aktion, die den Schwung von Black Lives Matter mitnimmt, oder finden Sie das sinnvoll?

5 Sinnvoll finde ich es allemal. Und es ist ja auch nicht was, was aus dem Nichts kommt, sondern viele schwarze Initiativen oder Expertinnen zum Thema Postkolonialismus und Erinnerungskultur haben schon sehr, sehr lange darauf hingewiesen, dass der U-Bahnhof umbenannt werden muss und natürlich auch die dazugehörige Straße. Und die BVG ist eigentlich mit der Diskussion vertraut. Dass das jetzt passiert, hat natürlich damit zu tun, dass das 10 Thema gerade so groß in den Medien ist und dass da auch viel Druck auf der Straße ist.

Die digitale Karte tearthisdown.com markiert diese Orte zunächst. Was ist das Ziel?

Das ist eine Initiative vom Peng Kollektiv und der Initiative Schwarze Menschen in Deutschland. Und beide arbeiten schon lange zu dem Thema. Interessant daran fanden wir, die Möglichkeit zu schaffen, erst all diese Orte zu sammeln und einen Überblick zu bekommen. Und 15 vor allem die Menschen dazu anzuregen, denn das ist ja ein partizipatives Projekt. Jeder kann Straßennamen oder Denkmäler eintragen, aus der eigenen Nachbarschaft zum Beispiel. Wir wollten die Menschen dazu anhalten, mit offenen Augen durch die Stadt zu gehen und sich zu überlegen: Wie viel Kolonialismus steckt eigentlich in meiner Nachbarschaft?

Wie groß ist denn das Ausmaß des Problems? Jetzt hat man es ja zahlenmäßig in der 20 Karte mal sichtbar. Hat Sie das überrascht?

Nein, ich beschäftige mich jetzt schon eine Weile mit dem Thema. Positiv überrascht und erfreut hat mich, dass es tatsächlich so viele Rückmeldungen gibt, dass es so viel positives Feedback auf die Karte [gibt] und so viele Menschen die [Karte] nutzen. Wir hatten 275 neue Eintragungen innerhalb der ersten 24 Stunden. […]

25 Jetzt ist die Sichtbarmachung wahrscheinlich ja nur der erste Schritt. Was sollte darüber hinaus passieren?

Die Denkmäler und die Straßennamen müssen weg. Und es muss um ein „Um-Erinnern“ gehen, um einen Perspektivwechsel. Sie sollen nicht ersatzlos verschwinden, sondern im Gegenteil: Geschichte soll endlich sichtbar gemacht werden, indem wir zum Beispiel an 30 Stelle eines Kolonialverbrechers jemanden ehren, der in dieser Region antikolonialen Widerstand geleistet hat, oder Menschen, die sich um antirassistische Belange verdient gemacht haben. Das ist die Forderung, und die hat ja zum Beispiel sehr gut geklappt in Berlin-Kreuzberg, am May-Ayim-Ufer. Das hieß ja irgendwann mal Groeben Ufer, da erinnert sich kaum noch wer dran. Und da ist es ja nicht nur so, dass die Straße nach einer afrodeutschen anti- 35 rassistischen Aktivistin und Lyrikerin umbenannt wurde. Es gibt ja auch eine große Stele, auf der erklärt wird, warum umbenannt wurde, was die Geschichte dieses Ufers ist und wie die Zusammenhänge sind. Das heißt vorher, mit dem einfachen Namen von der Groeben, war die Geschichte eigentlich nicht wirklich sichtbar. Was blieb, war die Ehrung eines Kolonialverbrechers. […]

40 Lüderitzstraße, Walderseestraße: Ohne die Karte wüssten die meisten von uns ja gar nicht, dass das Namen mit Bezug auf die deutsche Kolonialgeschichte sind. Ist das nicht das eigentliche Problem, dass man das nicht in der Schule lernt?

Das ist ein Riesenproblem, und das ist auch etwas, was sich dringend verändern muss. Es gab einfach sehr lange keinen Fokus auf der deutschen Kolonialgeschichte. Es gibt diese 45 Erzählung, Deutschland hätte ja nicht so viele Kolonien gehabt, die außerdem nach dem Ersten Weltkrieg ja direkt verloren, es sei also nur eine kurze Zeit gewesen … Dass Deutschland aber tatsächlich ein wichtiger und auch brutaler kolonialer Akteur war, ist irgendwie etwas, was jetzt erst so ins Bewusstsein kommt.

Anmerkungen:

Die Sprachrichtigkeit betreffende Fehler im Originaltext wurden berichtigt.

1 BVG – Berliner Verkehrsbetriebe

1 Mohrenstraße – Mohr: veraltet, heute abwertend für dunkelhäutige Afrikaner

12 Peng Kollektiv – Berliner Gruppe von Aktivistinnen und Aktivisten aus Kunst, Handwerk und Wissenschaft

33 Groeben – Otto Friedrich von der Gröben (1657 – 1728), Offizier und Forschungsreisender im Dienste Brandenburg-Preußens, der auch eine zentrale Rolle im Sklavenhandel spielte