It’s 2014….already?
I can’t even begin to discern (says the good Jesuit in me) what 2013 was or the ways in which it changed me.
But, here’s what I may have learned in 2013…
1. Kindness is the most important currency the world has to offer.
As I have wandered into places far from my home and radically different from what I have known, the kindness and love of others has always made me feel at peace in spite of chaos, difference, and discomfort. Be it the man on the bus from Kasese who shared with me his peanuts that he bought with the only 100 shilling coin he had left to his name or the love of my neighbors who sat with me for hours as I learned to hand-wash my clothes, secretly re-washing everything once I left. We often get blindsided by pettiness, tasks, or time and forget that kindness and love towards others is the ultimate goal in this world.
2. Capitalism isn’t so bad.
I was right alongside the 99% in protesting Wall Street and I still fundamentally believe in equity, the need to correct structural injustices, and the power of community—but I also believe in the power of business. I believe business can move people from subsistence to profitability, impacting educational attainment, gender equity, and health in profound ways. I believe that while charity is in theory, business is good in practice even among the poorest of the poor. Capitalism, if practiced with others in mind, isn’t so bad. So maybe we can have a soul and still be corporate…
3. The best way to see the world is by foot.
In the last year I have travelled across countries and continents by plane, train, automobile…and foot. The cities I love the best and the places and people I’ve felt most connected to I’ve met when wandering by foot–they are the places where I can tell you the smell, the feel, and the taste of the air.
Be it my treks through the highest mountains in Africa, my meandering through the spice markets of Zanzibar, or my strolls through the broken and bustling streets of Uganda, I have seen places off the beaten path that would otherwise be hidden behind the bus windows or missed entirely from the heights of a plane.
4. Women deserve better.
I have always been a feminist of sorts–a fervent believer in women and their power. I have tried to be incredibly sympathetic to the different cultures and beliefs of women across the globe, understanding their practices as often empowering instead of limiting. I have had conversations with my Ugandan colleagues on why women must marry, sport skirts below their knee, and wear burkas.
And while I do understand differences, I still think women deserve more. Women do not deserve to be beaten by their husbands no matter how pervasive or accepted it is. Women deserve the right to family planning, education, and menstrual pads. Women deserve respect and, more importantly, self-respect. Women simply deserve better–period.
5. Cooking (and cakes!) create community.
From Uganda to Kenya, the single-handed strongest force in uniting people I have witnessed has been cooking. Be it slaughtering a goat to celebrate newcomers, or cake lessons among friends, cooking creates community. I stand by the fact that most of my friends in Uganda came as a result of my cakes.
In Kenya, our bi-weekly “family dinners” create a space for intentional time together among my neighbors and my colleagues. Everyone loves food–it’s the easiest way to bridge cultures and build community.
6. Color matters.
As the late, great Nelson Mandela said, “No one of born hating another person because the color of his skin or his background or his religion. People must learn to hate.” While I agree with Mandela wholeheartedly, I do believe we still learn to hate. As much as we are beyond an era of blatant discrimination, we still very much see in black and white. And color still matters.
Racism is alive and well, perpetuated both by those that benefit as a result of it, and equally by those disempowered by it. I hope we, particularly development practitioners and those communities they serve, can one day move beyond a doctrine of black and white and instead be “taught to love” as Mandela says, “for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” For now, however, we cannot ignore the fact that color does matter whether we want to recognize it or not.
7. Love letters should always exist.
Be it a love letter to a friend, a person we admire, or a lover, love letters express what we often fail to say to the people we care about–that they are loved. Enough said. Write some.
8. We create suffering.
One of the most profound realizations I have had in the last year is that we create suffering. This is not to say profound human physical suffering does not exist. I have met women who walked 6 miles while in labor, only to arrive at health centers and lose their babies in birth or families who lost all of their children to AIDS.
But their suffering does not startle me in the way I would expect. And it is not because it isn’t horrific—it is—but it is because they embody a level of resilience and optimism that does not allow for sympathy. They are not defined by their tragedy, but by their ability to thrive in spite of such tragedy. They laugh more than most, candidly speaking of their history and struggle. The people I see suffer the most are people who internally continue to torture themselves, debilitating themselves by ideas, philosophies, or circumstances out of their control. Circumstance does not create sadness, we do.
9. If you believe in securing the future of our earth and our citizenry, you must believe in family planning.
If we want to empower women–provide family planning. If we want to improve the health of our citizenry–provide family planning. If we want to improve educational attainment–provide family planning. If we want to reduce unsafe abortions–provide family planning. If we want to prevent maternal and child deaths—provide family planning. If we want to improve food security–provide family planning.
10. Dancing makes life better.
I have never been one to love dancing. I do it (poorly), but often out of circumstance rather than desire. But seeing everyone from five year old girls to their 80 year old grandmothers dance without a care of who is watching, I cannot help but feel dancing is a necessity. It makes life better. I wish we all danced more often and without a care in the world. I think we’d be happier human beings.
11. Our actions define our values, not our titles or our talk.
From the government of Uganda to the aid workers I’ve met, the single greatest failure of us all is that we do not walk the walk. We talk the talk (quite well!), but often fail to embody our values in our actions, relegating that to our words and rhetoric. If we truly believe in respecting the dignity and potential of all people as we so fervently preach, we owe it to the children on the street corner to reply when they yell out to greet us or spend our time supporting the people who we believe in. It is not enough to use lofty rhetoric or live our values just from 9-5, we have to be cognizant of the fact that our actions speak much louder than our words.
12. ““There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.”
A.K.A Do it up big. Thanks, Mandela.
13. Laughter is always necessary–in good times and bad.
I have never been a person with a hearty and infectious laugh. In fact, my high school nickname was “ice queen” for my harsh demeanor. But in recent times, I have laughed more genuinely and more often than in the entire last decade of my life. I have laughed in moments of crisis, for no reasons at all, with others, and in the most frustrating and saddening moments I could imagine.
I have learned from those people I’ve been surrounded by (insert: Rehema) that laughter cures almost everything. We should all take ourselves a little less seriously–we’re not that important after all–and find time to simply laugh, in the good times and, more importantly, the bad times.