William Hamilton cartoon, New Yorker |
There have been numerous articles lately challenging the
notion that wanna-be do-gooders in developing countries actually do any good. The
criticism is primarily aimed at white, middle-class volunteers. And the image
is that they do little more than pop into some rural village just long enough
to feel smug and take selfies with small, smiling brown children.
One article describes how the author, while volunteering in
Latin America, discovers that the brick wall she and others are trying to build
has to be torn down and redone properly each night by the villagers they are
supposed to be helping. She ends up concluding that her volunteer time is
better spent raising money for good causes, rather than trying to do work on
the ground. Another story in the Guardian quotes a study concluding that, "voluntourism is more about the
self-fulfillment of westerners than the needs of developing nations.” The Onion also gets into the fray with
a satirical story about a supposed volunteer describing how her 6-day stint in
a rural Malawian village has totally transformed her Facebook
profile picture.
Well, that’s all very fine. I agree that voyeurism and
selfies may not seem like appropriate motivations for volunteer work. And I’m
sure that not every volunteer project is valuable.
But I also think it’s easy to be critical.
Living in Peru and Kenya has shown me multiple examples of
places where well-meaning, foreign volunteers actually do make a positive
difference.
Our older son was involved with a group that spent years
building houses for people who had lost everything following a dramatic
earthquake and tsunami in southern Peru. Staffed almost exclusively by
short-term, foreign volunteers, they not only laid the bricks properly but also successfully
moved countless families in need from shacks made of straw and scraps to solid,
if basic, housing. Was it enough? No. But it was a step in the right direction.
What’s more, they filled in where no one else would. The government’s response
was negligent, at best. And the town suffered a fate similar to poor parts of
New Orleans or Mississippi after Hurricane Katrina – left in the wake, while wealthier
and more touristy areas were rebuilt.
Here in Kenya, government investment in human capital and
potential is meager to non-existent. I had lunch with two Kenyan women
recently, who argued that the only working health and education services are
either private and expensive or run and supported by NGOs. That might not be
100% accurate. But it’s clear that large swathes of the population lack access
to basic services, such as decent schools, sanitation, clinics, roads, power,
clean water, and anything resembling a social safety net.
So it’s the private sector that fills in many of the gaps,
including not only the entrepreneurs and NGOs, but also lots volunteers.
In our year and a half of living in Kenya, we have met an
impressive array of people who have mounted schools and businesses and
organizations aimed at helping to improve the lives of those the government
leaves behind. It is a testament to the incredible potential, energy, and enterprising
spirit of this country.
But the task is great. And in some cases, it benefits from
the help of foreign, wanna-be do-gooders.
In February, I visited an orphanage just outside of Nairobi
for children whose mothers are in prison and have no fathers or other family to
care for them. I was with a small group that was bringing them donations of food
and art supplies. The center has a school, dorms, playgrounds, and kitchen,
eating, and cleaning facilities. Everything is very basic, but also bright and
cheery.
While the staff and teachers are Kenyan, the center also uses
the help and hands of non-Kenyan volunteers (many of them white, middle-class foreigners),
who come for periods ranging from one month to one year. The volunteers live on
site and help feed, bathe, clothe, teach, and play with the kids. Some have
further professional skills, like a physiotherapist we met. But mostly, they
offer affection and support to children whose experiences of trauma and
challenge seem so much bigger than they are.
Critics of volunteerism, and voluntourism especially, will
site examples of projects that are ill-advised, exploitative, and more likely
to deepen divides between the haves and have-nots than to build mutual
understanding. This really gets to broader issues of what it takes to create
programs that are actually useful, appropriate, and effective. Development
specialists have been arguing and struggling with this question forever, though
most agree that you have to listen and learn from local stakeholders about what
they see as the key problems and potential solutions.
Clearly, being paternalistic, patronizing, or self-promoting
is not the ticket to successful volunteerism. But all I’m trying to say is that
not every volunteer’s selfie represents a portrait of selfishness and
superficiality. Sometimes, there is a measure of good in do-gooder efforts,
even if it comes in pint-size packages.
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