Justice for all

This quarter, as I approached the end of my time here at Northwestern, I found out about LIFT, a national movement to combat poverty and expand opportunity for all people here in the U.S. I immediately applied to become a volunteer, but I only wish I had found out about the organization earlier. LIFT provides incredible opportunities for college students to make a positive impact, and provides great services to low-income individuals.

At LIFT, I volunteer for a few hours every week. I work one-on-one with clients, who are generally (but not always) low-income individuals. Anyone can come in, and I have often had highly skilled and well educated individuals come in for assistance. I work with each client for 50 minutes (sometimes 2 hours, depending on the situation) and provide them with any assistance they may need. Usually, people want help with typing, emailing, other computer skills, resume and cover letter writing, and the job hunt. These are the most common reasons for appointments. However, many clients also come in with questions about finding affordable housing, legal dilemmas, and a number of other challenges they encounter.

My time at LIFT has been amazing. For the first time ever, despite my years and years of volunteering, I feel like I’ve made a concrete difference in someone’s life. This past Friday, one of my clients didn’t show up for our meeting, so I gave him a call to find out if something was wrong. Turns out that I couldn’t have heard better news. He found a temporary job that he had already begun this week, and had also had a great interview for another longer-term position that he was really excited about. On the phone, he was so genuinely happy that I couldn’t help but smile. He thanked me over and over again for helping him with the job applications. I was thrilled, and couldn’t help but feel amazed that in some small part, I had been able to help him find a job. My second client of the day was a young immigrant, and his sincerity and willingness to work hard struck me. I found myself getting attached and hoping, deeply, for his success. As I was leaving, another client told me that his day was so much better after his visit to LIFT; he too thanked me for volunteering, even though I hadn’t even been the one to help him. I left the office SO happy that I almost screamed out in excitement; fortunately, I was able to restrain myself.

For the first time ever, I feel useful. And I realize how much I love working with people one-on-one. I’m hooked, and I know now that I want to directly represent low-income individuals in some capacity in the future. Although I have tried all forms of volunteering - like working at soup kitchens and homeless shelters, tutoring at after-school centers, working at hospitals, packaging food through Campus Kitchens, and interning at at least 4 different human rights and development non-profit organizations - I have never felt like I’ve actually made any difference. Now, I have found that elusive feeling of usefulness - at last. I love the personal connection, and I love getting to know individual’s stories and feeling invested in their lives and their progress. Social change is incredibly difficult, but for once, I feel like it is possible. Until now, I was almost resigned to the notion that I’d try and try my whole life without feeling like I’ve achieved much. Now, I feel that if it is possible to make a difference in the life of one individual — then anything is possible. I feel encouraged. Empowered. Like the sky’s the limit.

My time at LIFT, though short, has also shown me how valuable public interest and legal aid lawyers can be. I have seen or heard of many clients embroiled in legal problems; juvenile justice issues with their kids, insurance problems, and landlord-tenant issues, among them. It strikes me that a lawyer can make all the difference and can reassure clients, provide them with hope, and stand behind them although the rest of the system may be against them, especially when they encounter complex legal issues they cannot hope to confront alone. My work has made me want to pursue public interest law and some sort of direct representation more than ever, whether it is in the fields of criminal law, immigration/refugee law, or civil legal aid. I cherish the personal connection with a client. These are people struggling to make a living and to succeed, just like you and I. The difference is that the system is completely against them, and that they must struggle far more than we must if they are to achieve the same things. What they need is someone to listen to them and advocate on their behalf; they need someone to simply believe in them, and assist them in reaching their greatest potential. Someone to turn the system on its head and level the playing field.

But in thinking of my own role in this entire process of ’social change’ or ‘combating poverty,’ I wonder if I just enjoy taking on the role of the ‘giver.’ Tales From the Hood wrote in his blog recently that Americans tend to love being the giver; this ideology makes providing aid or assistance all about the donor. It’s not about the poor, but ultimately about the people doing the giving: the rich. That’s clearly an example of misplaced priorities. Although I may be biased, I do try to be critical of myself. And looking at my own actions through this objective lens, I do conclude that I enjoy feeling like I’m helping another individual. Doesn’t everyone? Such sentiments, however, are not inherently bad in themselves. They are bad, however, if the donor / volunteer does not think about who’s on the receiving end and whether they are truly benefiting. In this case, I am constantly searching for ways in which I know I’m making a tangible, unabashedly positive impact. If I ever feel like my actions are not helping others, and if they are in any way harming others, I would stop those actions immediately and move on to a project or organization I perceive to be better. Of course, the main problem here is that my perception is not 100% accurate; there have been times when I have thought that a project I’ve been working with has been beneficial, when in reality there may have been reason to doubt its impact. So it’s a continuous work in progress - I am constantly striving to learn how to be more critical, more realistic, and better informed about the consequences of my actions and of the programs I support. However, I do feel that my work with LIFT and the organization’s model in general is a positive one. I do think that there are crucial ways in which LIFT can be improved to better serve the poor, but the model is inherently strong.

Ultimately, if you are constantly critical of your actions and their consequences, it is possible to not only feel good about helping but to actually make a positive difference in this world. There’s nothing wrong with wanting that warm, fuzzy feeling inside when you help others — but make sure that you ARE actually helping others in the process. Social change is possible — as long as you don’t allow your desire to be the “giver” take precedence over the needs of your beneficiaries, who are the important ones in the picture.

In “Our Turn to Eat,” Michaela Wrong writes about Kenya:

Kenya’s foreign partners failed to grasp that a system of rule based on the ‘Our Turn to Eat’ principle was explicitly designed to prevent the trickle-down upon which they counted for progress. The better Kenya’s economy fared, the more unstable the country actually became, because public awareness of inequality - sociologists call the phenomenon ‘invidious comparison’ - deepened a notch.

It was a poor bet for the donors to make, for nothing sabotages development programmes more dramatically than violence. Decades of work on school-building, AIDS prevention and gender-awareness-raising are wiped out in a moment when the first shamba goes up in flames and its terrified family hits the road. Convinced they grasped the big picture, the donors somehow managed to miss the approaching near-collapse of an African state.

And:

As for the Western tendency to turn a blind eye to blatant graft and routine human rights abuse in the eagerness to save ‘the poorest of the poor’, it is a feature of donor relations across the continent.

And finally:

If they only set foot on the continent, idealistic Westerners would be astonished to hear how often, and how fiercely, politically engaged Africans…call for aid to be cut, conditionalities sharpened. Kenyan journalist Kwanchetsi Makokha is not alone in detecting an incipient racism, rather than altruism, in our lack of discrimination. ‘Fundamentally the West doesn’t care enough about Africa to pay too much attention to how its money is spent. It wants to be seen to do the right thing, and that’s as far as the interest goes.’

While I haven’t had the chance to read the whole book yet, I’ve read a few chapters through one of my classes. I find her quotes fascinating - that donors and aid agencies are so focused on helping the poor that sometimes they forget to think about the broader context in which their work is operating. It seems to me that donors are generally less willing to support more “abstract” projects such as human rights monitoring or anti-corruption initiatives, because they want “direct” results and want their money to directly go to the poor through education, healthcare, microfinance loans, etc. But being aware of this broader context is, as Wrong indicates, absolutely vital if genuine change is going to occur. The ultimate goal of NGOs should not be simply to provide aid but also to contribute to the creation of a capable, efficient state that itself can provide these public goods to its people.

This definitely requires a more holistic outlook, taking into account human rights violations and corruption as part of the context in which people live. There is a problem today where “human rights” and “development” are looked at as two separate areas. But they really need to be integrated in order to generate the best outcomes.

Also, I find it interesting that she (like Dambisa Moyo) is pushing for increased governance conditionalities, and for aid to be cut until governments change their corrupt practices. I definitely see the value in governance conditionalities but would shy away from advocating a complete cut in aid. I like Kristof’s balanced take on the issue, where he emphasizes that aid has its shortcomings but has also seen some successes. We need to find a middle ground between aid and trade (or some way to include both), and perhaps one way to do so is to begin with governance conditionalities.