Justice for all

In the past couple of months (!) I have been incredibly happy to have so many intelligent and passionate Gen Y changemakers stop over at my blog to partake in the Be the Change series.

What we learned

Through this series, we read about the grand dreams and visions that Gen Yers have to change and better the world; some may call them idealistic, but they know that social change is a priority, and a possibility.

We learned about the value of listening to the communities we hope to assist. We listened to personal stories of young social entrepreneurs who are striving to “be the change” themselves. On the flip side, we heard from those who felt that not everyone has to be a youth leader in order to engage in the social change movement; the movement needs followers to support it, too.

When hoping to enter the non-profit world full-time, we learned that the non-profit atmosphere isn’t for everyone - and that it might take time to find where you fit in professionally. At the same time, activism is for everyone - and whether or not you work in a non-profit full time, there are ways you can incorporate social change into your everyday work and life. Often, social change happens through a series of small steps - and though it may seem small at first, each step is necessary.

We questioned whether online activism - “slactivism” - is replacing it’s real world counterpart, and real change is getting left behind in the process. We discussed the impact that raising awareness of important international issues can have if done the right way: through personal stories that make hard statistics more tangible. We realized that not everyone shares a passion for a same cause - and so can be more effective to inspire by being the change, not persuading others to support your cause.

We tackled and debated important issues, such as animal rights, the Israel-Palestine conflict, finding a cure for Alzheimer’s disease, education for women, microfinance, and feminism.

And finally, we were compelled to take a deeper look at our own commitment to question whether we are genuinely committed to making a change in the world - or if we are putting our ambitions and desire for success first.

What’s next?

Thank you all for joining this series, reading along, commenting, or tweeting about it. It means a lot to me, and to the broader social change movement. It is truly a testament to the fact that Gen Y DOES care about making a difference, and that we are poised to utilize our skills and passion to contribute in some way - big or small - to bettering the world. This series, I think, completely blasts apart all the negative stereotypes: that we’re entitled and selfish, that we arrogant and self-centered. Here is proof that we, as a generation, can come together to make an impact beyond ourselves.

But ultimately, REAL change doesn’t happen through blogging or Tweeting. Real change and impact happens offline. Real change happens through action, not discussion.

I encourage you all to continue your activism, both online and offline. Volunteer your time (and skills!) to a local NGO that is desperately in need. Take time out this holiday season to fundraise for a specific cause you care about. Figure out ways to push the corporation you work in to engage in greater corporate social responsibility (CSR). Donate your birthday or wedding gifts to a non-profit. If you’re feeling bold, work for an NGO/social enterprise full time or even start one of your own.

Take action. Don’t limit your “change” to words.

(Picture credit: here)

I’ve lived in China for almost two and a half years.  This country has seen so much change in the past generation that it reminds me of a song I learned in elementary school: “the only thing that doesn’t change is change.”  I think that listening to stories is the best way for an outsider like me to understand and begin to take part in these changes.

Here’s one such story, from a project inspired by the Discovery Channel’s Dirty Jobs.  My friend Rich Brubaker is a prolific social entrepreneur, professor, consultant and blogger.  He recently asked ten of his interns to interview workers on the streets of Shanghai about their jobs and dreams for the future.   Here’s one example:

I highly recommend checking out the handful of other interviews that are up so far, as well as the comments.

What I find amazing about these interviews, and my own similar conversations, is the optimism and hope and complete absence of self-pity that shine through the words.  A common phrase in Chinese is “chi ko,” which translates to eat bitterness, or do what needs to be done.  I see this every morning when I stroll through the hutong to my office, and chat with a friendly middle-aged lady who sorts and bundles trash.  She asks me if I’ve eaten; I ask if she’s been busy (a common conversation pattern in Chinese.)  Her answer is always the same and always delivered with a smile: “if I’m not busy I have nothing to eat.”

Conversations like these are where getting involved with social change begins.  I think it’s important to develop a a strong sense for the priorities, goals, and thought processes of the local community.  This takes time.  It takes trust.  It takes language lessons.  It takes understanding that there’s not one single story.  It takes misunderstandings and re-explanations and identifying preconceived notions.  It takes a keen awareness of personal strengths.

In my time in China, I’ve been lucky enough to work with five different organizations, involving education, microfinance, and corporate social responsibility.  All of these jobs have been related to social change in some sense, regardless of the sector.  My friends here in Beijing have done amazing work in clean transportation, theatre, microfinance, sustainable energy, gay rights, showcasing the impact of global warming through ice sculptures, and so much more.  These are foreigners that have taken the time to really understand the local conversation in their respective area of focus.  (I have also met Chinese activists, but since I think that Akhila’s readers are mostly outside China I’m focusing on the roles foreigners have played.)

I am grateful for the opportunities China has given me, to learn, to listen, and to broaden my sense of social change.  Xie xie!

The Changemaker

Leslie Forman graduated from the University of California, Berkeley, with a degree in Latin American Studies.  As a corporate trainer for Yaxley Education, she teaches Chinese lawyers, journalists, and engineers to use English more effectively.  Her interests include renewable energy, events that involve costumes, and practicing her Chinese, Spanish, and Portuguese (though preferably not at the same time!)

You can catch her on Twitter, @leslieforman!

I don’t like little kids that much. Sure, they’re cute, smarter than they look and funny to listen to, but I’ve always wanted to hang out with the grownups ever since I was a little hell-raiser. That probably explains why I didn’t become a grade school teacher. That being said, when I was in college and seeking out my passions, I wound up in an internship at Massachusetts’ Executive Office of Elder Affairs in the Media Relations department. Here I learned more about public relations community development than I ever learned in the classroom at my college. I also learned that I loved working with the elderly and that working with them would be my career choice.

After graduating from college in 2006 I met a nasty, unwelcoming job market, much like the one recent graduates are facing this year. It took me about six months to find a “real job” that paid more than $10 an hour and wasn’t temporary. On the verge of financial collapse, I finally got a call to work for an elder housing non-profit in Boston where I eventually got hired to do program development for the residents. I was thrilled and ready to go into my work cave and be really successful at my job. However, success never came in that job. It’s the first real job I’ve ever had that I failed at. Not because I was bad at working with the elderly, whom I thought to be storied, hilarious and amazing people. No, the reason I failed at that job was because of my inability to adapt to the working environment. I was the youngest person there, by far and the only male in a sea of women social workers, financiers, former teachers, fundraisers, etc…

I lasted about 9 months before my boss politely told me that I should seek employment elsewhere and kindly told me I wasn’t being fired and that I had as much time as I needed to get out and find something new. I was hurt and frustrated because I felt like I wasn’t being given enough time to really get down and dirty with the ideas I had about my job. I was planning on attending graduate school for geriatrics and public policy in the coming year too. I was bitter that I had people telling me what I should be doing rather than taking my good will at face value and letting me figure out a way to put my ideas into action.

So, I left the non-profit world and wound up in a social media analytics software company in Boston and eventually at Brazen Careerist in Madison, WI where I reside today. I really do love my job these days- social media is new and interesting to me and I enjoy knowing that people are bettering themselves through our website and getting jobs as well. However, I still love elderly folks. Since leaving the elder-care non-profit two plus years ago I’ve gone back many times to help volunteer, serve meals in their kitchen, set up parties and lift heavy objects (the ladies there thought I was a dumb brute sometimes, but loved that I could lift things like a brute too). Every time I went back there, I reminded myself that leaving was in fact a good thing, because I learned on two fronts- 1) I wasn’t doing a great job at my job and everyone knew it except me at the time. I wasn’t motivated by my working environment nor the non-profit that I worked for. I was wasting time badly by staying there out of comfort. 2) I left and still love the idea of working with elderly people. I still want to do this for a living someday, to some extent. I’m not sure how right now, but its part of the cornucopia of career goals I have for myself… none of which I have ever claimed to be linear

What I think readers can get from my story regarding how to Be The Change in the world is this:

• Others can tell you when you’re good at a task or succeeding at prescribed mission, however the metrics within your soul for where you’re at in accomplishing a goal or turning the corner on understanding a concept are known only to you. It’s good to take other people’s input into consideration, but don’t ever let anyone tell you what you should be doing with your life.
• Changing careers is not as hard as people make it out to be. You can come in and out of most industries with little to no resistance as long as you’re smart about your timing and your intentions. You really can’t take away skills learned and passions acquired.
• When dealing with your life’s calling, don’t expect to know what it is or how you’re going to make it happen the second you get out of college. For all intents and purposes, you’re still a kid. Hell, I’m 25 and I’m still a kid in many aspects of how I view the world. To be honest, I hope to be part kid forever! That way I’ll never live my life out of the invisible obligations that adults do.

The world does not have enough people who choose to shape their career around their passions and just because they don’t fit a personality profile of what an organization thinks it needs should not mean people that a person cannot find a place to be productive and do meaningful work in what they care about.

Do I regret not fighting harder to stay at the non-profit I was working at or maybe find another job doing something slightly different but still with the elderly? Yes, sometimes I do. But, here I am today and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made in my career and I have a feeling that somehow, someway the skills I’ve picked up along the way as well as the understanding of the world through my own eyes will bring a lot of good to people, young and old someday.

I hope that each of you find your passion and your calling. Even if it’s all uphill from here, don’t take your eyes off it and don’t back down when other’s tell you how hard it’s going to be to get there.

The Changemaker

JR Moreau resides in Madison, Wisconsin, hailing from Worcester and Boston, Massachusetts. He currently works as Brazen Careerist’s Community Editor. He spends his spare time listening to hip-hop, reading dense literature, Tweeting with a diverse group of folks, plotting the great takeover, and talking strangers ears off about MMA and social media. You can find his writing on his personal blog, JR’s Not-So-Literal Blog and you can follow him on Twitter @JRMoreau!

I don’t know if it is just me, but have you noticed how offline activism has been replaced by its online counterpart?  People add twibbons, change the color of their avatar, or update their statuses, for what? to show their undying support for a cause? I find it sort of counterintutitve that for some reason our generation feels that change happens by lifting a finger instead of lending a hand.  This is what social networks and online platforms has done to activism and social change; it has turned it into a game of perception, not action.  The prevailing perception is that the more twitter followers or Facebook fans a cause has that somehow these numbers magically translate into significant action or change.  More often than not, it doesn’t, and the very people that support a cause virtually are just a piece in the perception game, a trend that is a bit troubling for me.

But as I sit here typing, I can’t but help feel a bit hypocritical.  I personally spend a significant time online advocating for such things as education and social entrepreneurship. I often use social media and online outposts to bring about awareness of the things I care about, and although bringing critical information about causes to bear is an immensely important act, I’m sure most of my followers let my status updates or my blog posts float downstream along with the other clutter they don’t read.  This is the unfortunate fate of young activism today.

So is activism and social change destined to be lost in the lifestreams of our virtual selves?  It’s an unique question our generation must answer.  We must find a way to meld our strong sense of idealism and our need for technology with a sheer anger at the state of the world.  It is imperative our generation understands that real change happens not by getting more followers for our cause, adding a twibbon, or changing the color of our avatar.

As Thomas Friedman, author and Pulitzler Prize winner, once said about youth online activism,”Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy didn’t change the world by asking people to join their Facebook crusades or to download their platforms. Activism can only be uploaded, the old-fashioned way — by young voters speaking truth to power, face to face, in big numbers, on campuses or the Washington Mall.”  I think Friedman hit it right on the head and I hope we all remember; change only happens face to face and not Facebook to Facebook.

*Photo Credit: Obey.com

The Changemaker

Kevin Asuncion is a young social entrepreneur from Los Angeles, CA who believes deeply in the power of business to change the world.  He loves reading, writing and is a loyal fan of the LA Lakers and Cal Bears.  You can find him at his personal blog www.kevinasuncion.com, or follow him on Twitter @kevinasuncion.

It has taken me way too long to write this blog. When Akhila reached out to me asking if I’d be interested in contributing to the “Be the Change” series, I immediately thought “Yes! Of course!” But, you see, I don’t really know how to write about myself and my experiences - on my blog, I stick to discussing current affairs, politics, etc. You know the image of the writer, scribbling by candlelight late at night, crumpling and chucking sheets of paper onto the floor in frustration every so often? Yeah, that’s me (at least it would be if this was 1809 and not 2009).

“Be the Change”: This expression comes from Mahatma Gandhi’s famous saying “Be the change you wish to see in the world,” which is arguably one of the most overused, cliched “do-gooder” phrases. I’d like to be a bit more cynical about it actually, but, in fact, this saying rings absolutely true to me. One of my dear friends gave me a beautiful little medallion on a chain with Gandhi’s words as a graduation gift in 2005. I don’t wear it all the time, but it’s with me, and reminds me that “to whom much is given, much is expected.” As many of the contributors to this series have pointed out, being the “Mother Theresa type” is daunting, and I don’t believe it makes sense for anyone to aspire to be like her, or like Gandhi. They left shoes too big to fill, and for mere humans like most of us, we can only aim to do the best we can, in accordance with our beliefs, and in line with our skills and abilities. I wanted to share some of my personal experiences in trying to “be the change,” particularly as I think that a lot of Akhila’s readers are just a few years younger than I am, and could find something useful for themselves in my stories.

My grad school program was four semesters long, with the third semester being a full-time internship. The way the schedule worked out was pretty amazing, and we ended up with a break from classes from July to March, with a 14-week internship requirement - leaving plenty of time for gallivanting and exploring. Being a student of international affairs and conflict and security, I knew that I wanted my internship to be in the field, and that I *needed* this experience - needed it for my own learning, of course, but also for my CV and to ensure that I would be able to go on to the job of dreams upon graduation [spoiler: it didn’t work out that way]. However, to my dismay, the internships I ended up getting offered were all in Washington, D.C. or New York. I ended up interning for a well-known foundation in New York for the fall semester, and while the experience was both professionally useful and personally satisfying, I still felt the urge to be in the field, to get my hands dirty. I knew that many of my classmates were doing ridiculously great internships with the International Organization of Migration in Angola, UNDP in the Democratic Republic of Congo and the French Embassy in Myanmar, and I felt quasi-inadequate going back to Paris with my “boring” New York internship. So I decided to do something which I know development practitioners and aid workers cringe at: I volunteered through an organization that provides placements ranging from two weeks to six months in the developing world. And so I spent the first two months of 2007 working and living in a Liberian refugee camp in Ghana.

This wasn’t my first time living or working in Africa; I had spent a semester abroad in Cape Town in 2003, during which I had the opportunity to work with a group of women from Khayelitsha, a township on the outskirts of the city. However, none of my traveling - in Europe, Asia or Africa - had really prepared me for my experience at the Buduburam refugee camp. I was assigned as a health coordinator at the Carolyn Miller School, the only tuition-free school in the camp, which was home to about 40,000 refugees, mostly from Liberia. Already, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that refugees had no access to free education; and not only was it usually not free, but it was typically quite expensive, what with fees for the uniform fee, activities, registration and books. Private schools in Africa are for-profit institutions. What’s more, I was absolutely freaked out that I had to teach health to students between grades 4 and 7; my only experience in public health had been a couple of chapters in my high school biology book.

I relied heavily on the expertise of the doctors and nurses of the camp clinic; well, the one doctor and few registered nurses who were serving the medical needs of 40,000 people. It became clear quite quickly that the level of knowledge about health and hygiene among the students – and, more broadly, in the camp – was even less than mine. Working with a Liberian nurse in training, we taught the students about the importance of washing your hands before eating, of boiling water before using it for cooking. “Water boils…when it bubbles! Water boils… when it bubbles!” was the clever little song I had the younger kids sing; they knew about the need to boil water, but didn’t know that boiling water was more than just “very hot” water. Working with other volunteers and the school staff, we had the boys in the school build trash cans for the school, and the girls drew posters about “Keepin’ it clean!” One of my most memorable experiences, however, was teaching sexual health to the older kids (between 12 and 18.) It took me a while to convince the school that the kids needed to learn about how to use a condom; about what sex was and how to be responsible in their sexual discoveries. (For an account of my short lived sexual education career, see this old post.)

But while I was having a truly life-changing experience, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that more needed to be done. The children at this tuition-free school were particularly vulnerable, and hunger and malnutrition were obvious problems. Low and irregular attendance, particularly among girls, as well as a lack of attention in class and the constant nagging for food and water, were the visible symptoms. I, along with one of the other volunteers I lived with, Celina, decided that we wanted to do more and stay engaged with the community even after our departure. We had been moved to take action, and particularly as we had gotten to know and feel close to this community, we felt strongly that we had a responsibility to them.

Truth be told, I realize this story is not uncommon, and that many volunteers who have had similar experiences also feel this attachment and the desire to continue helping, even once the posting is over. Celina went back to Los Angeles, I went back to Paris, and we began to fundraise and organize ourselves into a non-profit, The Niapele Project, with the goal of returning during the summer to set up a school feeding program, as well as establish a home for abandoned children. And that’s precisely what we did. To cut a (very) long story short, between March 2007 and August 2008, we set up a school feeding program for hundreds of children at the tuition-free school, first in Ghana, and now in Liberia; we organized a home for 20+ abandoned children; and helped strengthen a program for children with disabilities. We had three interns during that time, ensuring communications and managing projects; we created an online presence; organized fundraisers; wrote articles; commissioned papers from Yale and Sciences-Po (my alma mater) and connected with dozens of other organizations and individuals wanting to help or collaborate with us. We wrote proposals, drafted budgets, wrote thousands of emails, traveled to West Africa several times - all of this, of course, while I was finishing grad school and Celina was working full-time.

Today, we are working with two of our original three partner organizations, but now in Liberia. When a crisis between the government of Ghana and the Liberian community created an untenable situation for refugees in Ghana, many quickly repatriated to Liberia, with or without the help of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. For us, a little start-up non-profit, moving operations from Ghana to Liberia, on a shoestring budget, was a real challenge. Today, we are operating in Liberia: the school feeding program is going strong at the Carolyn Miller School in Monrovia, the center for children with disabilities is taking shape, and a new partnership with a grassroots Liberian media organization is promising to develop into an exciting new opportunity for us to affect positive change in Liberia.

I don’t have delusions of grandeur and I am conscious that probably thousands of others have followed similar paths; I realize that we’re not unique in that sense. I look at organizations like Forge and I feel pangs of jealousy. For all the successes we’ve had, our organization is constantly struggling for funding, the thought of which often keeps me up at night. For every person who volunteers his/her time for us, 20 more fail to deliver on their promises. We’ve had so many disappointments, and, frankly, I’ve felt the urge to throw in the towel more than once. Celina and I refer to The Niapele Project as “our baby,” because it really is like having a child together - I never stop thinking about it, and feel really guilty when I take a night off during the week to just sit around and watch TV instead of following up on an overdue task or email. It requires constant attention, devotion and care. Much like watching a child grow, we marvel at our organization’s successes, and cringe when things fall apart (and, let me tell you, they have, on multiple occasions.)

Since we started in 2007, I’ve gone from being a grad student, to being an underemployed graduate (among other random jobs I had following graduation: assistant office manager at a design firm; translator for social audits at French factories; hostess for corporate events) to working full time for a large NGO. In the latter capacity I have learned a lot about the aid industry. I am part of a team of about 20 and am a decade younger than everyone else (except for the office and program assistants). What has surprised me the most is that for people working in large NGOs, the work amounts to not much more than a job. Sure, we’re working for the greater good, yadda yadda. But one of the reasons I quit this comfortable, high profile job, is that I felt my idealism quashed under the weight of politics and bureaucracy (broadly speaking). I’ve realized that while my work for The Niapele Project is often frustrating and stressful, I derive the most satisfaction from our little victories in Liberia.

Just recently, our program manager sent us photos of our nutrition consultant carrying out the baseline evaluation to assess the malnutrition situation at the school. Those photos put a smile on my face and a spring in my step; our hard work is paying off – the kids are eating food produced in the community, we’re creating jobs and we’re monitoring progress. And while this program reaches only a few hundred children, unlike the work at my current organization which serves tens of thousands of people, I still feel a much greater sense of accomplishment.

Like I mentioned above, I’ve quit my comfortable, salaried position at the well-established NGO I’m currently working for. In early November, I’m going to Liberia - for the first time - in order to “tighten the bolts” on our programs and find ways to increase the impact and sustainability of our work. Sometimes I wonder if I’m absolutely out of my mind to be quitting - in this economy! - to go work (for free, and on my own dime) for the tiny organization we’ve created. Most people - including my current boss - are encouraging and support my decision. But frankly, I’m freaked out. I know I have the energy and drive to push the organization forward, but I’m really hoping we can catch our break soon. “Being the change,” quite literally, is inspiring and motivating, and I feel strongly about our mission. I’m not sure what keeps Celina, Megan and me from giving up; it’s so difficult to remain steadfast, to keep believing in what you’re doing, when for every step forward, you take three steps back.

All that said, I believe that there are so many ways for people to “be the change.” Clearly I, and other social entrepreneurs, am not taking the easiest road, but for those who are considering launching social ventures, I say go for it – just realize what you’re getting yourself into. Be ready to experience the very high highs and the very low lows that are part and parcel of this type of work. Be prepared to make some sacrifices, both personal and professional, for the sake of your vision. Aim high, dream big, but be realistic about your expectations.

Having a positive influence in the world is not an either/or proposition. You do not need to be like Mother Teresa, Gandhi or Nelson Mandela, or even be crazy and start your own non-profit. What I think is powerful about Akhila’s series is that it reveals the myriad ways in which we can all easily “be the change”: A commitment to reducing, reusing and recycling; volunteering a few hours a month for a local organization or school; voting; making a financial contribution to your favorite charity; spreading knowledge and compassion. I sometimes feel wholly inadequate when I look at some of my peers who have accomplished so much before they even reach 30, and I know that many of us feel this way. But we just have to remind ourselves that this is not a competition, and that we each follow our own path.

**About the title of this post:
“Tryin’ small” is the Liberian way of saying “working on it!”, or “I’m doing my best”, or “I’m getting by”. For example, someone says “hello, how are you?”, you respond “eh, doing ok, tryin’ small”. I really like that expression, and Liberians use “small” to imply slow but steady progress - which is what change and making a difference is all about.

The Changemaker

Penelope has a BA in international affairs and political science from Tufts University, and an MA in International Affairs from Sciences-Po Paris. She is currently working as program associate for the Clinton Giustra Sustainable Growth Initiative, a project of the Clinton Foundation, and is the co-founder and director of The Niapele Project. She blogs about international development, Africa, politics and human rights here. Born to a French mother and an American father, she enjoys red wine, cheese, yoga and documentary movies in equal amounts.