online website help:
 

NMH Magazine : Spring 2003

Christian Davenport '83

Christian Davenport will never forget his visit to a memorial site for Rwandan genocide victims. When the door to one room swung open, a shocking smell–a mixture of lye and death–greeted him. Inside the room were dozens of bodies, the decaying remains of a 100-day slaughter in which 800,000 Rwandans died. Davenport first visited Rwanda in 2000, six years after the genocide. An associate professor of political science at the University of Maryland, he went to conduct research on human rights violations. During several trips to the country between 2000 and 2003, he spoke with genocide survivors and those accused of genocide, visited memorial sites and mass graves, and conducted surveys of the Rwandan population. Following his first visit, Davenport returned home to Maryland and withdrew from civilization, sleeping for three solid days, then emerging to teach a university class on human rights. As he stood in front of his students, he felt the urgency of his mission: to communicate something that would prevent the horror of what he'd seen from ever happening again.

He was not always so passionately committed to a cause. As an undergraduate at Clark University, Davenport planned a comfortable career in international finance. But that was before three political science professors turned his head: they taught him that social movements are the key to human development, and human rights violations are the main reason why these movements fail. Twenty years later, Davenport, a self-proclaimed "freedom nut," attaches this Albert Camus quote to every electronic correspondence he sends: "All I ask is that, in the middle of a murderous world, we agree to reflect on murder and to make a choice."

Where did you grow up?

I was born in New York City. After my birth, my mother, a professional dancer, went to dance in Europe for several years; lacking a choice in the matter I was taken with her. After that we came back to New York, then moved to California, then back to New York, where the theatre district essentially became my home. I stayed there until coming to NMH.

What brought you to NMH?

I was in a hellhole of a high school in lower Manhattan, where books weren't distributed and ritualistically there was a fight in front of the school gates to establish the daily pecking order. I barely attended classes but managed to achieve exceptional grades. It was clear I wasn't being challenged. Enter a man, to whom I'm eternally grateful, named Foster Cunningham. He had a relative who attended NMH. After hearing about this individual's experiences and touring my school one day, my parents decided to get me out of my current situation and into prep school. We toured a number of schools, but the people, the countryside, and the feeling at NMH impressed us most of all.

What were you like while you were here?

Athletic, witty (perhaps annoyingly so), bright but unpolished, scared, challenged, and occasionally charming.

How have you changed since NMH?

In almost all ways, NMH changed me. I came to understand exactly what was "out there" in the world. My first day, I met a girl from South Africa; this was my first real contact with someone from the country. In class we were exposed to the world's religions and amazing prose, in addition to heartfelt and committed instruction. I was also exposed to the reality of how unequal the world is. Through NMH, I came to understand the power of education, communication, and friendship.

Are you married?

I was the ultimate bachelor until 1997, when I married Nejla Yasemin Yatkin. She's a professional modern dancer of Turkish and Egyptian background who now performs and choreographs around the world.

Do you plan to have children?

At some point. I'm not sure I'd like to bring children into the world I've seen thus far.

What does your work as director of the Minorities at Risk Project involve?

Collecting data, overseeing coders, fundraising; also informing advocacy organizations, journalists, students, and other scholars about trends in ethnic persecution and mobilization around the world.

What are your other interests?

I'm working on a novel called BE and the Movements in Statis. I've also invented a board game about the art of urban survival.

What's been the high point of your life so far? What's been the low point?

Conducting research on the Rwandan genocide is the answer to both questions. It's been the most heart-wrenching and uplifting experience of my life. I've come to understand exactly how low human beings can get (engaging in rape, beatings, and mass murder). At the same time, I've seen how high we can rise (saving individuals during a genocide, surviving mass killing, rebuilding essentially everything after one of the most horrific tragedies in history).

Where have your travels taken you?

Amsterdam, Argentina, Brussels, Canada, Costa Rica, France, Germany, Greece, Ireland, Jamaica, Japan, Kenya, Portugal, Rwanda, South Africa, the UK, Vietnam, Zaire/Congo.

How do you feel about turning 40?

I'm sorry, I didn't notice I was aging; everything after 25 has been a blur.

What do you like and dislike about this stage of your life?

I like the sheer diversity of things I'm able to work on and the wonderful human beings I've had the honor to work with. I dislike not being quite where I want to be–although I'm now beginning to realize that this might just be part of my personality. The unsettled aspect keeps me moving.

What advice would you give a graduating senior?

Words from a Steely Dan song: "Any world that I'm welcome to is better than the world that I come from."

by Mary Seymour, photo by Brooks Craft '82