Tattered Dawns

Each day begins as a tattered dawn

A morning, torn

From the previous night’s gilded gown,

And unveils my face,

Creamy bisque, and blank,

My voice, stark and bare

Hardly there,

More leaves than daffodils. 

 

Harsh Lesson

Just four months after joining an organization, I was asked, with no prompting  whatsoever from my part, to become one of five directors. There was a catch: I would "leap frog" a colleague who had been with the organization at least ten years, and had technical expertise that I did not. My promotion constituted a de facto demotion for him. I would become his supervisor. 

At the meeting, my spirit raised a flag. “Let me think about it,” I answered. 

The next day, mind still disquieted, I said yes, because, the logic went, “I just got here, I cannot say no.”  My supervisor was visibly relieved at my decision, as if he had been genuinely afraid that the answer would be “no.” But it wasn’t. Confronted with a supervisor’s request, I did the thing he wanted, ignoring my personal sense of good and right.

But now about ten months later, I know not to do that again, allowing myself to send messages to colleagues. After all, if a staff's performance leaves something to be desired, then management has the duty to react, and to do so ethically.

In this case, the behavior was unprofessional, and I was party to it. 

Explaining that decision away could be easy, placing the "blame" on those who made the initial offer.  But this would be the wrong conclusion: they did not have any trepidation about that decision. I did. They did not ignore their conscience. I did. My initial and persistent reluctance condemns me, not them.

Lesson to be remembered. 

Dear USAID Haiti Mission

A former American colleague from an INGO told me once that his work here was largely motivated by a desire to see Haitians “stay at home.”

Far from being offended, I was elated. What a happy coincidence, I thought: we both want the same thing: a successful Haiti, clean, green, stable, and prosperous that would entice her children to choose it as home. No “boat people.” No riots, no public disturbances requiring a “US response.” 

The following list is an outcome of that conversation. It addresses the United States of America, more specifically, its all-powerful expression here, USAID.

Here it is:

Dear USAID Haiti Mission, be America here. Think big! Dream the spectacular!

It is simple. You have so much money and power. Don't believe the doomsdayists and the ney-sayers. Haiti is not "complex." Not at all. Our society is so simple so as to be simplistic. Here are seven specific components:

1) As you say often, Haiti will not be successful without full governmental leadership. So keep working with the Haitian government, facilitating both good and strong governance. You are the United States of America. All Haitians want to go there. Some want to live there. No more than a simple threat to revoke a visa or green card would do wonders. Institute audits by US firms of presidents, prime and other ministers, and members of Parliament. Help them understand that their entry on US soil is conditioned on no significant findings of corruption or serious crimes such as rapes, murders, drug-trafficking. This is easy. No international law or immunity issues. You are sovereign over your territory.

2) Support a "visible development." Let the majority of your precious US dollars be invested in physical infrastructure, big and small: houses, parks, family centers, tree planting, hospitals, highways, power plants, airports, etc. Think about how much easier it would be for the M&E staff: no costly "base-line" studies, no complex "household surveys," no “confounding factors.” Just before and after pictures ("In XXXX, children and youths had no safe place to play. Now, there is a family center in the town square, where children benefit from wholesome after school activities such as sports and music lessons. Elected officials and parents work to maintain it, and are ecstatic, and teen pregnancy has been reduced by 55%).

3) Ban NGO-made, life-sapping language: shelter, cash-for-work, clusters, no work capacity, distributions, etc. Replace them by success-inspired words: jobs, houses, businesses, parents, competition, etc.

People are transformed through work, cash-earning jobs, not endless sessions of “awareness-raising.”

Ban the term "capacity-building" altogether, as applicable to a one-way "knowledge transfer" to Haitians from INGOs. It's a lie, and a damaging one at that. (Though “skill-building” may be a good thing, such as ESL or IT.)

4) Find a way to give power and visibility to Haitian professionals working within INGOs that receive funds from you. It is now clear that those organizations have not "produced" in spite of the millions you have poured in their coffers. So take this most American decision, change.

That change need not be drastic. It can be as simple as a requirement that all proposals have significant input from folks who understand and are vested in the local reality.

Haitian professionals, almost to the person, do not have to be in Haiti. Most of us can legally move to Naples or New-York or Nantucket. We are here because we wish to live at home. We think it will change, and want to work on the ground for that glorious day. We are your natural partners!

5) Replace the damaging focus on "the poor-est" Haitians, and start including the "readi-est," regardless of where they fall on the economic scale. While I don't suggest American money should somehow find its way to wealthy Haitians, it would be good to consider how the middle class, the professional class can achieve more. What if "aid" could be used to "complete" existing resources, as well as going to those with no monetary resources at all.

6) Implement a "no-harm" analysis for all projects. This already exists for environmental issues. Add to that list three key institutions: the government, the formal private sector, and the nuclear family. Outside of those three pillars, Haiti cannot be good.

7) And this is the most important: Be inspired and optimistic. Decide that Haiti will succeed in the next five (5) years, not just improve; that it will prosper, not just stabilize. The "just maintain" approach is expensive, and it is not worthy of the United States of America. It is simply un-American to settle. Don't do it here, please.

P.S.: I do have some sense that you are doing some of that: would you please continue and expend?

Unclaimed Property

A 19-year-old young woman I know, from very modest background, just lost her mother to cancer.

At the funeral, the mother was eulogized by an older brother who explained that his mother had married young, but soon became a widow with two small children. As a result, she had to “debwouye-l” to create a life for those children and her. So over the years, she had five more children by different fathers, at least one of whom did not stay long enough to see the baby’s birth.

The eulogy confirmed what was obvious: practically for all of her adult life, that woman and her seven children struggled for the basics: food, housing, stability, love. Theirs was an existence marked by not enough of the good things, ice cream outings, comfortable beds and well appointed rooms, a husband’s affection, a father’s protection; and much too much of the bad: hunger, abuse, fights, abandonment.

As someone once described the life of the poor, she was born, she suffered, and then she died. She was only 59.

At first, I found myself judging her: why did she keep having children she clearly could not afford?  Did she not know that those men would not stay? Wasn’t it obvious that it was better to be poor with two children than with seven? 

Judging the dead: what a crummy thing to do. And she was the one who stayed with her children, and managed to raise them, send them to school.

Shamed by conscience, I exhorted myself, “just pray for the children.” 

So thinking about them that night, a most unlikely connection came to mind. In fact, my husband and I had recently received an “Unclaimed Property” letter, a genuine official government notification that we owned money we had not claimed, instructing us on the procedure to follow in order to appropriate those funds.

Unclaimed property. What a perfect allegory for that dear departed soul.
As a human being made in God’s image, she had been entitled to much: comfort, safety, peace, joy, generosity, beauty, laughter, love and affection, all blessings intended for her. Most were never claimed. She lived and died having gotten little of what was lawfully hers.

Arguably, this is the case with all who live lives contrary, counterfeit, whether dominated by drug or other addiction, abusive relationships, bitterness, rage, hatred, fear.

Here, millions of Haitians live in abject poverty and indignity, seemingly oblivious to their true calling of goodness and brilliance. Unclaimed property.

That night, limiting my prayer to my friend and her siblings, I offered the following: “Dear Father, you who create and love every human being, you intended for Mrs. X a good life, one that would have reflected your love and goodness, one that would have brought her joy and righteousness. Father, in the name of Jesus, I now declare that all of the blessings intended for her that are still languishing in an account somewhere, or a post office box, unclaimed, Father God, I declare in the precious, precious name of Jesus, that her children will receive “Unclaimed Property” letters, addressed to each one, by name. Amen."

Calls and Likes

When I first moved to the United States as a teenager, Americans kept asking me, “do you like it here?” As the good Haitian that I was, the focus on this question made little sense to me: what did it matter? My parents decided to move the family, so there we all were. Besides, being in the US was a good thing, a benefit of which countless Haitians could only dream. 

But those Americans were right: “likes” are important. My Christian faith says so.

We readily accept that God “calls” missionaries to Haiti, but I do not believe God calls people to places they do not like. As our creator, God forms and knows the desires of our hearts, and as our Father, he takes pleasure in granting them because they both fulfill his plans and make us happy.

So I must now inquire of missionaries: do you like it here? Do you like Haiti?

This question is of capital importance. It demands an answer for the well-being of all us: missionaries, Haitians – Haiti. For when we like or love, our actions fall in a protected class. The impact of our good deeds is amplified beyond our imagination. A simple smile to a stranger sustains him, unbeknownst to us, for a whole day, encouraging him to show kindness in return to those around him. And our mistakes, no matter what they are, inflict less damage. It is as if nature itself says, “I know what you mean.”

My God, Paul was right. Love is essential. I believe it is essential because it brings joy: we are just happy, almost independently of the folks around us. (“Happiness floats,” reminds us Naomi Shye.) And a happy person is a kind person. He goes above what is required or expected, effortlessly. He practices all good things: gratitude, humility, understanding, empathy, explaining away slights and wrongs, genuine apologies, beautifying eyes, desire to please. All things needed in Haiti.

If you cannot answer yes to that question, please check the “call.” God means for us all to be happy.

Leadership

In his documentary “Assistance Mortelle,” director Raoul Peck, of Haitian descent, recounts in two hours what is by now an obvious, undenied and undeniable truth about post-quake Haiti: the untold treasures sent or given by well-meaning people (mostly foreigners) to help Haitian victims did very little good. Instead, they were wasted by (mostly foreign) corrupt or incompetent people or systems.

In spite of the very dreary feel and look of the film (did the quake’s rubble piles reach all the way to the sky, hiding the country’s breathless sunsets?), one scene is memorable. Jean-Max Bellerive, the former Haitian Prime Minister/Minister of External Cooperation/Co-chair of Reconstruction Commission (with Bill Clinton), groans: “if the international community cannot solve Haiti, what else would they be able to solve.”

His question left me stunned with shame, anger, disbelief. That man held three key roles for the country in the post-quake period (not even President Preval was more important!), and yet he felt quite comfortable telling the world that it was their duty to “solve” our problems.  How could he be so unworthy?

That moment confirmed for me an unshakable truth.

In Haiti, both national and international entities often promote “consultation” and “participation” of “all stake holders” as essential tools of a successful (Haitian) society.  Seeing Mr. Bellerive’s self-damning question, I was reminded that those groups are wrong: what we need above all in this country is one true leader, responsible, bold, and visionary.