Changing People's Lives While Transforming Your Own E-Book

Jeffrey A. Kottler

• Herausgeber: John Wiley & Sons
• Kategorie: Fachliteratur
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 416

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2009

Beschreibung

By supporting others and promoting change, helping professionals also enjoy the benefit of personal growth. Changing People's Lives While Transforming Your Own is filled with narratives from individuals from social work, psychology, counseling, and allied health fields. Inspiring and stirring, this book vividly illustrates how to promote social justice and foster global human rights. Its accompanying DVD features stories from a social justice mission to Nepal reaching out to neglected children. Students and professionals will find this book a profound reminder of how targeted social justice efforts have resulted in transformative experiences. Note: CD-ROM/DVD and other supplementary materials are not included as part of eBook file.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Acknowledgements

Preface

OVERVIEW OF THE CONTENTS

IDEAS IN ACTION

PART I - Birth of a Movement

CHAPTER 1 - Paths to Social Justice

ALTRUISM: DOING GOOD FOR OTHERS—AND YOURSELF

FIXING A HAND

WHAT IS SOCIAL JUSTICE ANYWAY?

CHAPTER 2 - The Dance of Hope

JOINING THE DANCE

BENEFITS OF VOLUNTEERING

GIVE AS WELL AS TAKE

I COULDN’T MAKE THIS UP

CHAPTER 3 - Children Disappearing

A NATION ON THE VERGE OF COLLAPSE

DEAD IN A POOL OF BLOOD

GIRLS DISAPPEARING

GROWING A GENERATION OF WOMEN PROFESSIONALS

A FIRST DONOR

BUILDING A TEAM

CHAPTER 4 - Stories of Despair and Resilience

A FAMILY

FLY OVER THE SKY

STORIES OF IMPACT

DIFFERENT PATHS TO THE SAME PLACE

PART II - Stories of Impact

CHAPTER 5 - Road Trip

PART 1—TAKING OFF

PART 2—DIVING IN

PART 3—IN OVER MY HEAD

PART 4—NEW VISTAS

PART 5—TAKING IT HOME

CHAPTER 6 - Being Lost

JEFFREY: WE LOST A MEMBER OF OUR TEAM

KRISTINE: BEING TOO INDEPENDENT

JEFFREY: BEING LOST AND FINDING YOUR WAY

KRISTINE: THE AFTERMATH

BEING LOST IN OTHER WAYS

CHAPTER 7 - Student Transformations

RETURN FROM THE JOURNEYS

JANE: “I SAW A PHOTO ON THE WALL”

HEATHER: “SHARING A COMMON SPIRIT OF FEARLESS DREAMING”

HEATHER’S STORY—IN HER OWN WORDS

CHRISTINE: “I FOUND A SECOND HOME”

ALI: “WHO REALLY LIVES IN POVERTY?”

CHAPTER 8 - Making Universal Connections

WHO I AM

WHAT’S IMPORTANT, AND WHAT’S NOT

CUTTING LOOSE

I CARRY THIS MOMENT FOREVER

CHAPTER 9 - Lessons and Major Themes

SOME UNIVERSAL FACTORS

OVERCOMING FUTILITY AND FRUSTRATION

CHALLENGES OF SUSTAINED COMMITMENT

BEING THE LONELY ONE

PART III - Taking Action

CHAPTER 10 - Relationship Skills for Promoting Constructive Action

WORKING WITHIN OTHER CULTURES

LISTENING SKILLS

RESPONDING

RECOGNIZING DYSFUNCTIONAL THINKING PATTERNS

CHAPTER 11 - Travel That Can Change Your Life

EFFECTS OF VOLUNTEER TRAVEL

CLARIFYING AN AGENDA

ACTING OUT OF CHARACTER

CREATING A TRANSFORMATIVE TRIP

MAKE A LIST OF WHAT YOU WANT TO DO, THEN . . . THROW IT AWAY

GET LOST

CREATE A MINDSET FOR CHANGE

CLARIFY YOUR GOALS

INSULATE YOURSELF FROM THE USUAL INFLUENCES THAT RULE YOUR LIFE

EMBRACE EMOTIONAL AROUSAL

SEARCH OUT NOVEL ENVIRONMENTS

EXPERIMENT WITH NEW WAYS OF BEING

PLAN FOR RE-ENTRY

CHAPTER 12 - International Jetsetters

BELIEVE YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE: ARIANE KIRTLEY, FOUNDER OF AMMAN IMMAN

TAKE THE NEXT STEP: ELIZABETH HAUSLER, BUILD CHANGE

ACCEPT UNCERTAINTY: ZANA BRISKI, KIDS WITH CAMERAS

STAY OPEN: SAM GOLDMAN, D.LIGHT

THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER: JESSICA MAYBERRY, VIDEO VOLUNTEERS

FINDING YOUR OWN PATH

CHAPTER 13 - Local Community Activists

LEARN TO LISTEN: AARON BARTLEY, PUSH BUFFALO

DON’T BE AFRAID TO CHANGE: FARAJII MUHAMMAD, NEW LIGHT LEADERSHIP COALITION

OVERCOME YOUR FEARS: KYRA BOBINET, VISION YOUTHZ

CHAPTER 14 - Thinking Globally, Acting Locally

REBOUND: AUSTIN GUTWEIN, HOOPS OF HOPE

GETTING VULNERABLE: MATTHEW AND JESSICA FLANNERY, KIVA

THINK VIRALLY: BLAKE MYCOSKIE, TOMS SHOES

FINDING YOUR OWN PASSION

CHAPTER 15 - Going Small

ADVANCES IN TECHNOLOGY

CULTURAL ACCEPTANCE

IT’S A SMALL WORLD

FIND YOUR NICHE

FOLLOW YOUR PASSION

IGNORE THE NAYSAYERS

MAINTAINING AUTHENTICITY

STARTING LOCAL

COLLABORATE

DO SOMETHING

HOW YOU CAN PUT YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS INTO ACTION

References and Resources

About the Authors

About the DVD

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Copyright © 2009 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved.

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Published simultaneously in Canada.

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Kottler, Jeffrey A.

Changing people’s lives while transforming your own : paths to social justice and global human rights / by Jeffrey A. Kottler, Mike Marriner. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index.

eISBN : 978-0-470-48495-1

1. Social justice. 2. Social action. 3. Social service. 4. Human rights. I. Marriner, Mike. II. Title. HM671.K67 2009 303.3’7209—dc22 2008029092

Acknowledgments

Any project requires a degree of collaboration between many people in order to succeed. This book, based on our own work over the past decade, includes contributions from hundreds of students, faculty, and professionals who were willing to share their experiences. Lisa Gebo, our editor and friend at Wiley, has been instrumental in helping us make our vision a reality. Her encouragement, support, and passion for helping others have inspired us to tell our story with as much honesty and transparency as we can.

We are grateful for the assistance of Peggy Alexander, Marquita Flemming, and Sweta Gupta for their work helping to put the book into production.

Digumber Piya and Kiran Regmi are our partners in one project in Nepal. It was their vision that inspired us to devote such a significant part of our lives to helping neglected children.

All photographs in this book (except a few submitted by our interviewees) were taken by Jeffrey during his work on various projects around the world. The video footage on the accompanying DVD was also filmed by Jeffrey during his visits to Nepal. Mike produced and edited the film, as well as interviewed students and charitable visionaries around the globe. We both collaborated on the telling of these stories.

Preface

This book is a bit different than other textbooks you might have encountered in your classes. It tells the stories of a number of students, professionals, and faculty, in a variety of fields, who want to make a difference in the world beyond their own personal goals and ambitions. Although we introduce you to some of the basic concepts related to social justice, global human rights, service learning, community activism, and altruism, this book is intended as much to inspire as educate you. It presents the narratives of several individuals, not unlike you, who made choices—or, in some cases, just fell into situations—where they could be helpful to others in a significant way. Although many of these students majored in education, health, and human service fields, several others eventually ended up in engineering, business, the arts, and humanities. What they all have in common is their search for some way that they could be helpful to those who have been most neglected and marginalized.

OVERVIEW OF THE CONTENTS

The first part of the book introduces the case study of one project in Nepal that was launched by one of the authors (Jeffrey) to address issues of poverty, neglect, physical and emotional abuse, and the oppression of women and girls. Contained within this story are many of the elements that are often part of service learning, social justice, and charitable work—including the joys, satisfactions, frustrations, and crushing disappointments. In addition to describing the nature of the problems in South Asia that have led to gender and ethnic inequities, sex slavery, poverty, health crises, and civil war, we also tell the stories of many individuals who have joined us in our efforts, what they have gotten out of their experiences, as well as the realities of what led some of them to abandon their efforts. The stories we describe will introduce you not only to some amazing, unbelievable, gut-wrenching experiences, but also to some of the universal challenges that you might expect in your own efforts to help others. Also unique to this project is a description of the kind of reciprocal influence that takes place in helping efforts in which the participants were transformed almost as much as the people they were helping.

We tell the stories not only of our own efforts to make a difference, but also of inspiring figures who have launched their own projects or participated in those created by others. Many of the leaders and participants began their first efforts while in college, while others abandoned lucrative careers to renew their commitments to social justice issues. In most of the cases we profile, the projects began (or remain) modest efforts that are within the scope of almost anyone who has sufficient commitment and motivation.

Part II of the book tells the stories of a number of people—students, professionals, leaders of organizations—who describe what they do, how and why they do it, and what they get out of their efforts. These are not just optimistic tales with happy endings, but rather narratives that reflect the true realities of what it means to live and work under harsh conditions, dealing with the magnitude of problems that appear intractable, with crushing poverty, with corruption and violence, with social conditions that appear hopeless. Yet contained within these stories are the seeds of inspiration that may very well lead you toward your own path of making this world a better place.

Part III shares the stories of many social justice efforts from across the globe, individuals who are working to create a positive impact within their own defined niches. From individuals who have raised more than $25 million in microfinance funds and have been featured on The Oprah Winfrey Show to a 13-year-old boy who started a basketball “Shoot-a-Thon” to raise money for African children orphaned by AIDS, all of them share how they got to where they are today, as well as the lessons they’ve learned throughout the process. We make suggestions of ways to create the kind of adventures and experiences that are likely to be the most satisfying and transformative—for you as well as for those you help. It isn’t necessary to take on some “big thing,” or even to join a major organization or program; it is often the little things you do that can grow to become significant efforts in their own right.

This book is intended as a supplementary text for a variety of courses in the social sciences, social work, counseling, human services, education, nursing, family studies, pastoral studies, health, and other related professions. It can be used in a variety of introductory courses, at both the undergraduate and graduate level, to inspire students (and professionals) to connect with their deepest longings to help those who are most in need. This is a book of hope, of resilience, and of passionate and courageous efforts to change people’s lives far beyond the narrow scope of your own community and immediate circle of influence.

IDEAS IN ACTION

Accompanying the book is a DVD that is intended to inspire you further through the stories of students, educators, and professionals who are featured in the text. You will see and hear team members struggle with various challenges along the way, as well as speak from their hearts about what they are experiencing. Regardless of their age or life experience, participants talk about the impact that being involved in a service project has had on their future goals and aspirations.

Each of three sections of the DVD consist of vignettes that show scenic footage, visits to villages, and interviews with those who participated in our project. You will join the team on their journey and then hear their reflections on what they learned and how they were transformed.

PART I

Birth of a Movement

CHAPTER 1

Paths to Social Justice

As North America and other Western countries become more culturally diverse, members of most professions are expected to develop greater sensitivity and responsiveness to persons of different backgrounds. Thus, one segment of college education in all majors and specialties is devoted to reducing ethnocentrism, that is, a limited view of the world based only on your own background. Depending on your race, ethnicity, religion, gender, geographic location, socioeconomic status, first language, age, sexual orientation, political convictions, and other such variables, you may perceive the world in ways that are quite at odds with those who have different experiences.

It may seem obvious that you can’t learn greater cultural sensitivity by listening to a lecture or reading a book about the subject. Your experiences in this arena can best be enriched and expanded through some form of direct contact with other cultures and people of different backgrounds. That is one reason why college campuses work so hard to build a student body that represents as much diversity as possible. It is also why you are so passionately encouraged to educate yourself outside the classroom by becoming involved in some kind of cross-cultural experience. This could involve a semester abroad, an academic exchange, home-stays in different communities, participation in cultural events, service learning, or a volunteer project. In many of these options, the goal is twofold—you are furthering your own education at the same time you are helping to improve the plight of those less fortunate than yourself. Students who participate in such activities often report that they also develop skills that help them to be more collaborative, flexible, caring, and sensitive to those who are different from themselves (Boyle, Nackerud, & Kilpatrick, 1999).

ALTRUISM: DOING GOOD FOR OTHERS—AND YOURSELF

Why do people willingly give away part of their time, not to mention their money, resources, and energy, to help others who are less fortunate? Why would students select service majors or helping professions that often result in lower financial payoffs than their friends who choose business?

The simple answer, of course, is that we devote ourselves to the path that offers us the greatest personal satisfaction and meaning. For some, this can involve the accumulation of maximum wealth; for others it means making a constructive difference in the world—being useful to others in greatest need.

Helping Now, or in the Future

It’s been, I don’t know, four years, but seems like a lifetime since I’ve been in college. Graduation is coming, and believe me, I can’t wait, but I’m also freaked out by it all. I’ve got so much debt I might have to rob a 7-11 store. Just kidding! Anyway, I figure it’ll take me at least 10 years to pay off what I owe, and that’s if I’m careful. I figure that I’ll just find a really high-paying job, make a boatload of money, and then someday I can contribute in an even bigger way later in life, like Oprah did or something. There is a part of me that really does want to go travel the world and try to help people who aren’t as lucky as I am. I guess I could defer my loans for a few years, since there are programs out there that do that, but the debt would still be waiting for me when I returned. I may as well just get to work now. It sounds hopeless, but do I have another choice?

Altruism refers to behavior that is “other-focused.” It represents benevolent, charitable actions that are not motivated by personal gain or the expectation of reciprocal favors (Post, 2007). This sort of selfless giving is done without major consideration as to how it will pay off in the future. Compare, for example, a student who volunteers to work for a public agency to beef up a resume to one who has no ulterior motive other than to be helpful. Consider the difference between someone who works for Make a Wish Foundation to help relieve the suffering of children versus one who thinks it will look good on graduate school applications. We are not saying that good and noble behavior cannot be combined with furthering one’s own interests; we are suggesting that “pure” altruism has no personal agenda.

Regardless of whether you are interested in service to build your own career options or out of genuine interest in being useful to others, the effects can often be the same. When people are really honest with themselves, they will often admit that there are clear payoffs to them of a very personal nature.

• They feel like their lives are redeemed. They are doing something that seems like it matters.

• They are giving their lives greater meaning. Many have left high-paying jobs because they felt empty.

• They are paying back what others have given to them. They have been wounded or hurt earlier in life and recovered sufficiently to want to ease others suffering.

• They are following a spiritual path. This can be either self-serving (a ticket to heaven) or following divine inspiration.

• They are developing new areas of expertise and gaining valuable experience. This can range from beefing up one’s resume to developing skills that will be useful in the future.

• They are hiding from things they wish to avoid. Helping others is a good distraction from dealing with issues that may be painful, or avoiding problems that feel overwhelming.

• They can feel like martyrs, making sacrifices and suffering deprivations for the greater good.

• They are feeling useful. Their sense of self-worth and importance can be directly related to the impact they believe they’re having on others.

When Greg Mortenson was asked what motivated him to work so tirelessly building schools in remote areas of Central Asia, he didn’t hesitate for a second: “The answer is simple: when I look in the eyes of the children in Pakistan and Afghanistan, I see the eyes of my own children full of wonder—and hope that we each do our part to leave them a legacy of peace instead of the perpetual cycle of violence, war, terrorism, racism, exploitation, and bigotry that we have yet to conquer” (Mortenson & Relin, 2006, p. 335).

What I’m Meant to Do

School frustrates me. When I was a kid everyone said I had Attention Deficit Disorder, which I wish I did because then I would at least have an excuse. I just get so damn bored when I’m sitting in class! The idea of sitting in a desk job for the rest of my life scares the crap out of me. I need to find something active where I can be moving around all the time. Just because I’m not like everyone else doesn’t mean I’m any less than them. And I do have a big urge to help others. I think a job in some kind of international aid work would be perfect for me. Sometimes I get worried that I’m not smart enough to help other people, but then I realize that I really can make a difference, even if I’m not a rocket scientist or something like that. I went to Africa last year on a weeklong trip to build schools, and it was amazing! I wasn’t bored once, and I was really changing these people’s lives! I know now that this is what I was meant to do. It may not be the most conventional path in life, but I love it and I’m going to go for it.

Many of these motives play a part in our own work, but the last one is especially relevant to Jeffrey’s story.

FIXING A HAND

The old man stumbled down the rocky slope grimacing in pain. He was holding his arm, bent at the elbow, with his hand upright as if in a perpetual greeting. In spite of his advanced age, he seemed far more nimble on his feet than I (Jeffrey) could ever hope to achieve. I had spent the past five hours laboring with heaving breaths up and down a yak trail deep in the Himalayas. This was the third week of a journey that had taken me to a half-dozen villages where I was organizing educational programs for neglected children.

Prior to the appearance of the old man, I had been trying to catch my breath while staring, spellbound, at five of the highest mountain peaks in the world. I was debating whether I had the energy to pull out my camera for another quick shot when the Sherpa who was acting as a guide rushed up to me.

“Sir,” he said to me, “you help man.” This was not a question but rather a direct order. It was all the more remarkable because the guide was usually so deferential, if not obsequious.

I approached the old man cautiously, not exactly sure what was expected of me, nor how I was supposed to help him. Once I got closer, I could see more closely his swollen hand that was so covered with blisters it looked like a balloon about to burst. There were white, pus-filled sores running along his fingers and palm, almost as if there were caterpillars crawling underneath his skin.

The old man was a dignified gentleman, dressed in a white shirt, vest, and tights, a long knife at his side. He was an impressive figure, all the more so because although his hand was grossly disfigured, he was obviously under great control of the crippling pain.

“You help him,” the Sherpa said again, pointing to the old man’s hand.

The old man looked at me and managed a smile between his tight lips. He held out his hand as if it was a foreign object that belonged to someone else. He turned it one way, then the other, displaying the network of bloated blisters that covered both sides.

“What happened?” I asked, partially out of curiosity, but also to stall for time before I could figure out what I was supposed to do. I was no doctor, at least not a real one. The last thing in the world this guy needed right now was a psychologist.

The old man and the Sherpa spoke for several minutes before it was announced with simple clarity: “Boiling water.”

“He spilled boiling water on himself?” I asked. “Is that what happened?”

Both men nodded.

Because I was a foreigner, it was common for locals to believe that I possessed medical supplies and expertise that far exceeded their own meager resources. They were not far wrong, considering that the nearest medical facility was a two-day walk away. If this man did not receive help from me, he would most likely have to deal with this on his own.

I looked into my supplies and found a supply of gauze and antiseptic cream which I proceeded to apply to the blistered hand. No matter how delicately I spread the lotion I could hear the man’s involuntary gasps. Adopting the manner of the doctor that I was now pretending to be, I handed him aspirin to take for the pain. “Take two of these now, another two before you go to bed tonight.” I felt myself stifling a nervous giggle once I realized I was reciting the line from some doctor show on television.

The old man looked at me with genuine gratitude, as if I had just saved his life, or at least his hand. He brought his hands up to his chin, forming the steeple gesture of respect in this part of the world. “Namaste,” he said, then turned and headed back up the slope with his hand still held aloft.

I walked on for the rest of the day, up and down more mountains, through rice paddies and mustard fields, passing herds of water buffalo, troops of monkeys, mule trains, and porters on this Himalayan highway. All the major Annapurna peaks were visible throughout the day, draped in clouds. There was more scenery and stimulation than anyone could ever hope to encounter in a lifetime. Yet I couldn’t get that old man and his hand out of my mind. I was haunted by that encounter, and I couldn’t figure out why it had such a huge impact on me.

Then it came to me: I fixed something. At least, I think I did. Surely I hadn’t done any harm in my brief foray as an emergency physician. Even if the aspirin and antiseptic didn’t make much of a difference, I know—I am certain—that my words of reassurance soothed the man’s pain.

I am someone who has no mechanical aptitude whatsoever. I can barely change the batteries in my camera and flashlight. I often break light bulbs while changing them. I am more than unusually proud that I can change a flat tire; in some ways, I look forward to those episodes, because in an hour I can fix something, make it better.

So it is that I chose a profession in which I am rarely sure that I ever really help anyone. Even when I do think I make a difference, I’m never quite certain whether the effects will really last, or even if my clients are just reporting imaginary progress. Most of the work I do, as a teacher or supervisor or clinician, takes many weeks, months, or even years, before I see substantial, visible changes.

Yet in about 15 minutes, I dressed the wound of someone in need and helped him to feel better. I have no idea, of course, what happened to the man after our paths diverged. Maybe he lost the use of his hand or even died of infection. But I’d like to think that, regardless of my rather simplistic attempt at practicing medicine without a license, I eased his suffering in ways that I long for every day with my clients and students. I know it isn’t my job to make people feel better but, rather, to help them to take better care of themselves and take greater charge of their own lives—even though this often means stirring up more pain. I suppose that also fits what happened when I caused more pain in the old man by cleaning and treating his wounds in order to prevent infection and aid healing.

There are times when I feel such despair at what it is that I try to do. Some of the people we all attempt to help have problems that are so long-standing, so chronic and unremitting, so severe, that whatever we do seems like nothing but a token gesture. The kids leave the session and return to their gangs or abusive homes. Those with impulse disorders, hallucinations, personality disturbances, chronic drug abuse, major depression—the list goes on and on—sometimes seem impervious to the most powerful interventions. When some of our most challenging cases do show definite signs of progress, we are left to wonder how much of these changes will persist over time, especially with a return to dysfunctional environments, abject poverty, or crime-filled neighborhoods.

Just once in awhile it feels so glorious to fix someone or something—to know that I really helped someone. That this experience of fixing a hand took place during such a brief interval is even more of a gift. It is also a clear indication of my own need to feel useful, how my own sense of potency, as a person and a professional, comes from continually proving that I have not lost my power. With each new person I help, I wonder whether the magic has left me, whether I have anything left to give.

I am forced to confront the sense of powerlessness I have felt most of my life, the drive that has led me—pushed me—to be so overachieving, to prove myself again and again. I realize now that my interaction with the old man wasn’t really about fixing his hand. He was the latest opportunity that I used to try and fix myself.

As I now relive this incident, I’m not certain the Sherpa begged me to help this old man as much as I jumped at the chance to do something useful for him. I needed this encounter. It had been more than a week on the trail in which people were taking care of me, rather than the configuration that I am used to—being responsible for taking care of others. Without such constant opportunities to be helpful, I feel like I am losing my way, even losing myself.

I tried to fix the old man’s hand and felt a degree of satisfaction to an extent that I rarely experience in teaching or counseling. Partly, this resulted from the immediate feedback that my intervention was effective. But it was also because my “client” would have had no other recourse if I had not been on the scene. It was as if I arrived at that exact time and place, in one of the most remote places in the world, specifically to do something useful.

I hardly have to travel halfway around the world to make a difference. It just feels like the magnitude and intensity of the experience was amplified by the novelty of what, with whom, and how it took place. It gets me thinking that I try to find my way by taking new, undiscovered paths that allow me to access new parts of myself. I only bandaged a wound, yet in so doing, I also healed myself.

In this book, you will read many other stories similar to mine, undertaken by fairly ordinary people (many of them students) who felt inspired to exercise their altruistic spirit and get involved in promoting social justice projects on a local or global scale. You will hear this theme repeated many times in your educational career, since it is currently a very hot trend to encourage, if not require, students to become involved in some type of service learning. It is reasoned that there is only so much you can learn in a classroom or in books—the wide world awaits you, with many challenges and opportunities.

WHAT IS SOCIAL JUSTICE ANYWAY?

No, it isn’t a gathering of judges getting together for drinks and conversation, nor is it a particularly gregarious and fun-loving judge. It also does not refer to legal proceedings at a social function. With that said about what it is not, social justice is a bit difficult to clearly define. It is one of those terms that is thrown around all the time, variously referring to righting wrongs, taking a moral stand, or fighting against some perceived injustice. Some fringe groups also use the term to refer to any cause that promotes their radical vision of what is fair and right (Lum, 2007).

Within the context of the social or hard sciences, health, business, or any other profession, “social justice” is used often to describe altruistic efforts in some capacity, such as advocating on behalf of those without a voice or for greater equity. For instance, the tragedy that occurred on 9/11 with the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon mobilized tremendous compassion for the families of the 5,000 people who died, yet 10 times that number of children die of starvation and malnutrition every day. During the hour or so that you spent reading this book, another 400 children died, most of whom could have been saved if they had access to health care and a nutritious food supply.

Eyes Closed Shut

I love warm water, hot sand, and beautiful women. I can’t help it, it’s my weakness. During spring break one year I came down here to Cancun with some friends, and never left. I got a job full time as a cabana boy for Club Med, and it’s the best. I basically get paid to just be on vacation. I’ve been doing it for five years now, and for most of the time I’ve just stayed on the grounds of the resort. Last year I met a girl here who works in the restaurant. She’s actually from the Yucatan, and grew up down the coast from here, just north of Belize. She’s beautiful, not like anyone I’ve ever met, but she comes from this really poor background. I’ve been down to visit her family a few times, and it has just blown my mind to see how much poverty they’re living in. They have food to eat and all that, but it’s not exactly the cleanest, most sanitary living conditions. Everything stinks like sewage, and there are flies everywhere. The roof on their home isn’t very good, and when it rains everyone gets wet. It’s so weird driving from Club Med in Cancun down the Yucatan to visit them. I just can’t believe the gap between the people at the resort and these people, and it’s only a two-hour drive away. If the people at Club Med could even just put a little resources and effort and help, that entire village could be fixed up, but I don’t even know if anyone knows of its existence. I think that is the way most of us live our lives—with our eyes closed to what’s going on around us.

As multifaceted and broadly applied as the term might be, social justice generally can be described as having any of the following characteristics or actions (Fouad, Gerstein, & Toporek, 2006; Lee & Hipolito-Delgado, 2007):

1. Challenging systemic inequities within an organization or community. This involves first recognizing that some individuals or groups are marginalized in some way and then doing something to change the status quo.

2. Transforming social institutions. Once inequities are identified, steps are taken to change the ways that schools, agencies, government departments, and other organizations operate.

3. Inviting fuller access to resources and full participation on the part of excluded people. Again, this involves constructive action (rather than mere talk) to advocate on behalf of those without equal rights because of their race, age, religion, gender, disability, sexual orientation, education, socioeconomic status, or group membership.

4. Bringing attention to issues of oppression, prejudice, and social inequities within an organization or community.

5. Combating racism, prejudice, homophobia, ageism, and sexism as it is witnessed. Speaking out and taking action in the face of injustices and oppression.

6. Advocating on behalf of human rights, especially among those who have minority status or who have been historically denied privileges afforded to those of the majority. For example, this could refer to Native Americans, African Americans, and other minorities within the United States, those of the “untouchable” caste in India, the Kurds of Iraq, the hill tribes of Cambodia, the Palestinians in the Middle East, and so on.

Becoming involved in some type of social justice or service learning experience can be structured accordingto your own interests, passions, experience, goals, time availability, and resources. But it does take considerable initiative, personal sacrifice, and a degree of personal challenge to work in communities withoutthe familiarity and comforts to which you have become accustomed.

7. Empowering those who have historically been without a voice. This may involve personal self-sacrifice, as well as surrendering some of your own privileges and advantages.

8. Volunteering time and devoting personal resources to make a difference among those most in need. Whether this is with the homeless in your own community or with those most at-risk across the nation or abroad, you develop and implement strategies for making a difference.

Making Difficult Choices

I grew up in the Bronx. The boys in school never liked me, calling me “The Smart Girl,” and that gave me an edge. I didn’t like anyone, and no one really liked me, so I just kept to myself. I put all that aggression into studying, and at my school there wasn’t a lot of competition, so I was first in my class. My school counselor said that with my grades I could get into Harvard, because they were looking for “disadvantaged students” or something like that. Anyway, I applied, got in, and now it’s my fourth year here. I chose to study urban planning because there is a lot of math in that, and math has always been easy for me. When I graduate, I can pretty much get any job I want. Hell, I can even go to Beverly Hills in California and do urban planning for all the rich people. My family thinks I should come back to the Bronx and help our area to make it more suitable for living. Part of me wants to go home to help, but part of me thinks, “screw them!” The people in my neighborhood weren’t exactly helpful to me growing up, so why should I go back and help them now? My mother says “to whom much is given, much is expected,” or some crap like that. I know I have an amazing life in front of me, but I think if I moved to California my mother’s voice would always be ringing in the back of my head. I think I have to stay, and try to make a difference where I grew up.

When you combine all of these dimensions, what emerges is a vision of social justice in which professionals in a variety of fields act as advocates, activists, and leaders in the cause of promoting human freedom and equality. Regardless of where you end up working, and what you end up doing for a living, there will be countless opportunities for you to stand up for the rights of those who are oppressed. For those of you who are more ambitious in this enterprise, there are also limitless possibilities for you to visit places where oppression, poverty, and injustice are the norm. This book tells the story of some such efforts on the part of individuals who are not that different from you.

CHAPTER 2

The Dance of Hope

The children had formed a gauntlet, beginning where we were standing by the truck that brought us to this village and stretching in two parallel, undulating lines to the entrance of the one-room school. The children were calling out in a chanting rhythm, beckoning us to walk through the line.

We approached the squirming tunnel of children, feeling both embarrassed and flattered to be the center of attention. As we walked between the two lines, the children showered us with flowers. The older, taller kids placed garlands of flowers around our necks; smaller children placed bouquets in our hands. The tiniest kids, some just out of toddlerhood, tossed handfuls of petals as far as their little arms could throw. As we made our way through the line, we were covered in the fragrant petals.

Finally, we reached the schoolhouse, a single room constructed of concrete blocks. Inside, it was dark, the only light coming from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. There were wooden pews in a row, perhaps ten in all, and they were packed with people. There were village elders in attendance, the chief, the school principal and teacher, parents, and half a dozen students with their families. One old woman, who was barely ambulatory, managed to crawl along the floor where the crowd made space for her.

We were in the village of Saranpur, an isolated community of several thousand in the southern region of Nepal. The Maoist rebels were active in this area, so we had been forced to travel by small plane from Kathmandu and then by rutted, back roads occupied by tractors, goats, water buffalo, and bicycles. Machine gun nests were perched on the top of bridges, intending to stop the rebel advance. Yet when we crossed to the other side of the bridge, the Maoists were waiting with their own gun emplacements, also extorting a “fee” to cross their territory. There were army roadblocks set up everywhere, as well as curfews, but in this part of the country the people were only concerned with survival; the politics of the Maoists escaped them (it was only later that we would come face to face with the rebels in the Himalayas, where they extorted money to guarantee safe passage).

Children in the village of Saranpur, located in the remote Chitwan region of Nepal, line up to welcome guests who have arrived to distribute scholarships to lower-caste children who would otherwise not be able to attend school.

Originally, we had traveled to Nepal to help introduce counseling methods to the medical community and to supervise a research project exploring why so many mothers die giving birth. In Nepal, the vast majority of people do not have access to any medical care whatsoever. They have among the highest maternal and infant mortality rates in the world. There are villages where goiters from nutrition deficiencies are so common that the residents have come to see the huge balls growing out of their necks as attractive. In fact, anyone without a prominent goiter is viewed as a freak.

Several of us in the group had already delivered lectures to health ministers, government officials, health administrators, physicians, and nurses about the value of counseling methods. In the whole country, there are a few dozen psychiatrists and psychologists and counselors for a population of more than 30 million. That means that each mental health professional has a caseload of over a million each!

We had met with hospital staff and health care workers to discuss ways they could integrate the interventions that seemed best suited to the Nepalese context. While this work was satisfying, even warmly received, the real reason we had come so far was to visit this village.

Working with Nepalese friends and colleagues, we were establishing a new scholarship program for the neglected children of Nepal. The girls, especially, were afforded very few opportunities for education. Many were kidnapped by sex slavers or sold by their families for indentured work, often ending up in the brothels of northern India.

One of us (Jeffrey) had been doing research with a Nepalese obstetrician, Kiran Regmi, on ways to encourage more women to seek medical care. Many women were dying because they were unwilling to visit health care facilities. They did not want male doctors to touch their bodies. They did not feel respected in these places. They felt like objects that were merely shuffled around.

One way we might change these attitudes was, first, to teach physicians to be more interpersonally responsive. Second, our job was to help promote more opportunities for girls to become doctors themselves and perhaps break the tragic cycle. If we could launch a foundation, contributing some of our own money as start-up capital, we could help keep more children in school. We had already contributed enough money that we were about to award the first six scholarships. And that is why the schoolhouse was packed on this day: the village was celebrating the birth of hope.

As we sat at the honored place in the room, covered in our garlands of flowers, we could not help but think about the work we do as counselors and teachers back home. Helping others is what we teach in the classroom, yet often the interaction is one-to-one. Sitting in this school, it seemed clear that this was a community intervention and interaction.

“You have gathered here today to honor us,” Jeffrey addressed the village assembly. “But we are here to honor you. There are times when you must feel that nobody cares about you.” Jeffrey spoke slowly, waiting for the translation. “I wish you to know that the people of America do care about you, and about your children. They want to help you keep your children in school, because that is the only way they can have a future.”

Speaking directly to the children next, Jeffrey told them that we would do what we could to help them, but they must work hard to study and learn. It was a solid message, but I had no way of knowing how it was heard and understood. One thing that we did see clearly was the look of pride on the children’s faces when each came up to accept the scholarship that would allow him or her to remain in school for another year.

After the ceremony ended, everyone piled out of the cramped schoolhouse. Thinking we were now off the hook, we melted into the crowd. Yet the festivities were only beginning. The women of the community began to form a circle, chanting at first, then singing. Drummers pounded a beat and the women began to dance, swaying their bodies and moving their hands hypnotically.

One member of our group was pulled into the circle and pressed to join the dance. Holding his hands out to his side, he imitated the women’s movements as best he could. Yet the most extraordinary sight of all was watching Dr. Kiran, the senior gynecologist, dancing with the girls and women. Seeing a doctor dance with her patients was a powerfully compelling image, one that ensured that this was one place where the women would seek their doctor’s help during times of need. As Kiran danced, the girls and women smiled, laughed, kept motioning the dance to continue. It appeared that each glance towards Kiran was a look of acknowledgement that here was one doctor who understood the true lives of her patients and was not so far above them that she could not actually be part of the community. They would come to her, despite her being a doctor, because of her empathy and her willingness to be with people in their real lives.

We climbed into the truck for the long journey back to the central district of Chitwan. We looked out the back window to see the children, and their parents, watching the strangers depart. What were they thinking now, we wondered? What did they make of all this?

As a physician in a rural area without regular health care, Kiran must earn the trust of the village women if she is to have any impact. She must deal with competition from the local shaman, who can sometimes be helpful but just as often can be dangerous.

We sat quietly during the return, keeping our thoughts to ourselves. After some time dodging various livestock, rickshaws, and pedestrians, we came upon a solitary Buddhist monk walking along the road. Dressed in a burgundy robe, held together by a rope around the middle, he glanced at us as we slowed to a stop by his side. The monk’s face lit up in a smile as he made eye contact with each one of us. Then he reached inside and handed us a glutinous ball. Each of us broke off a small piece to taste the sweet offering. Then, without another glance, the monk continued his journey.

Even now, we can still taste the gritty sweetness in our mouths, just as we can smell the flowers that had been placed around our necks. We are still haunted by the final view of the villagers watching us drive away, wondering if we would forget them, if we would ever return, if we would keep our promises to help them.

JOINING THE DANCE

It isn’t necessary to travel to the remote Himalayan Republic of Nepal to participate in a dance of hope. Within your own community, there are many people who feel neglected and forgotten. What continues to linger most from this first journey is the possibility of what one person can do to make a difference. But first, you must join the dance.

Watching People Suffer

When I was four years old, my parents dropped me off at an orphanage and then hit the hippie trail to California. I guess it was a typical 1970s story, but my sister and I are the other side of the equation. We’re the kids who got left behind, that you didn’t see at Woodstock. We were shipped from one home to another for most of our childhood, with no sense of grounding or anything. Try being the new kid in school every six months. You get used to defending yourself pretty quick. But the other day I read about the child soldiers in Uganda. These kids can’t even stay in their homes, or else rebel leaders will kidnap them to put in their armies. They walk miles every single night, and sleep under bridges, just so they don’t get kidnapped. This just blew my mind! I mean, I know a little of this stuff, but compared to them I’m like a kid from the ’burbs. I had to worry about getting beat up in school, but they actually have to be worried about getting killed—every single night! Sometimes when I think about it, my stomach wants to explode, and I know I have to do something to help. I feel like they’re my brothers over there, and I’m just watching them suffer.