When Hope is Hard to Find..

As I write these words, I am receiving messages from my eldest in Haiti.  "this is the country that has no future, and young people like me do not really have a secure future"

At the age of nineteen I fell deeply in love with Haiti.  Haiti became home to me for many years.   It was a place where I transitioned into adult hood, where I faced challenges, made sacrifices, and took on more responsibilities than I could probably handle.  I faced corruption, violence, theft, death, disease, natural disaster... you name it.  But despite all of the challenges, I found deep beauty here.  I found beauty in the mountains, in the beaches.. but most of all in the people.  I found a country full of hope and faith and resilience.  I looked at them in awe and admired their strengths.  No matter what these people faced, no matter what obstacles were dropped in their laps, they still got up every Sunday morning put on the best clothes they owned, treaded their way through the dust, the rain, the winds, and the floods to gather together and to rejoice.  They held onto hope.  They believed that their country would rise.  Their hope became contagious.

Lately however, many have started to lose that hope/faith that they once tightly clung too.

Over the past two months a humanitarian crisis has once again unfolded.  But what's different this time is that there has been little news coverage on the severity of this crisis and what the Haitians are now facing on a day to day basis.  There's no celebs writing songs about the atrocities, no books being published, and no mass fundraisers or galas being held to aid them now.  Yet much like the earthquake, not one person in Haiti has gone unscathed from the present crisis.

Gas prices sky rocketed. It has become widely unavailable throughout the country- which for many means no electricity as they cannot run their generators.

Food prices have drastically increased which means malnutrition is on the rise and mass hunger is a problem for the majority.

Water has been harder to come by as the water trucks cannot find or afford fuel to deliver the water.

Guns designed for war are in the hands of thousands.

Neither schools nor government have functioned for the past seven weeks.  Any school that dares to open their doors, knows the price they will pay from the opposition.

Police have been protesting about their working conditions- it has created an even more lawless country than before.

The UN has pulled out.

Doctors cannot get to work.  People are dying every day from preventable deaths.  Hospitals have had to completely shut down.

Gangs have been on the rise and violence has drastically increased including the torching of vehicles, businesses, and even hospitals.

Banks and businesses are like bullseyes.  Many remain closed.

Buses are being taken hostage.

I know two people now that have been killed over the past few weeks due to violent protests or gang related instances.

Our staff are unable to travel to our facility so we have had to shut down our business program this month (and last).

Staff members have been robbed.

Women are being raped and we are having more requests for emergency shelter at our facility.

A family that we support (Tiny's family) has now been pushed out of their home due to gangs coming in and raping the women in the area and taking over their houses.  They are now terrified to return to their home that we built them and are trying to find other solutions for housing.

Yet... none of these atrocities are being reported by the international media.

Right now, the country is free reign.  They are struggling to find their voice.  Struggling to know how to implement change.

It is so easy for us to turn a blind eye "out of sight, out of mind" but people are suffering.  People are facing the most inhumane and unimaginable circumstances... yet many are stepping back instead of stepping up.  The more we remain silent, the more we encourage the oppression.

Haitians have finally found their voice.  Have finally said enough is enough.   The majority of those protesting are doing so peacefully.  They don't agree with the violence that has stemmed from it.  But many don't know any other way to create the change that needs to happen.  They are tired of being oppressed by a corrupt government.  They are tired of their living conditions.  Millions of people are taking to the streets as they want their voices heard.  After remaining silent for decades, they are rising up.  They know if they continue to remain silent, they will continue to suffer for generations to come.

For me, this becomes even more personal.  My son is Haitian- this is his country too.. this is his culture too.  We have Haitian family members that are still currently residing there and are facing these challenges seven days a week.  My kids are there- kids I have raised, kids that I love just as equally as  the child I birthed.  Our staff is there... who have become my best friends, my second family.

At this point, it is easy for us to lose hope.  It is easy for us to say that things will never get better.  But we are holding onto that little sliver that we have left and we believe they can.  We will not give up.

Today, I ask you to not close your eyes.  To not turn away.  Today, I ask you to use your voice.  Become an advocate.  If you can do anything at all- you can use the power of speech to inform and educate others.  Right now, Haiti needs our attention.  Haiti needs our support.  At Rise House we continue to purchase all goods locally- we are doing our best to support the local economy and entrepreneurs.  We are continuing to pay and support staff throughout this crisis and ensuring that they and their families have access to adequate medical care.  We are doing all that we can to continue to offer classes to children in our school program and neighbouring areas to keep these children out of the streets and in a healthy environment.  We are continuing to assist our business program participants to ensure that they are still able to run their businesses so that they are able to feed their children.  We have opened our doors for emergency shelter to women and children who are facing violence or extreme conditions at this time.

We are doing our best.  And sometimes it is REALLY hard to feel like our best is enough when the need is so great.  We too are feeling deflated.  We too are feeling helpless.  But we know that we cannot give up this fight.  We have a voice, we have resources that can save a life.  We have YOU to help us.  Please join us in this fight.  Please join us in our efforts to ensure that we can continue our work and to assist those living in inhumane conditions RISE above.

"If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor"

Different Lenses

It's been three years since I moved back to Canada.  Three years of the comforts of home.  Three years of consistent electricity and the flow of hot running water.  Three years of sleeping on a soft bed that always has clean sheets and fluffed pillows.  Three years of take out food and being able to indulge into whatever comfort foods I want.

But yet, I still struggle to find the comforts in this.  I still struggle to find my place.  To find my purpose.   To find meaning here.  To wrap my head around how two areas of the world can be oh so different, yet only a plane ride away.  How two places can both encompass such large parts of my heart.

I remember my first time coming home after living in the countryside of Haiti.  I remember flying into Miami and uncontrollably crying.  I had spent eight months without a proper shower.  Eight months without a toilet. Eight months peeing into Pringles cans.  Eight months without a stove, microwave, refrigerator.  Eight months without furniture to relax on.  Eight months without electricity.  And here I was, standing in this ginormous air conditioned airport with an endless amount of space, food, electricity and bathrooms (which were equipped with toilet paper).  All my brain could process at that time was "Do you know how many people we can house here? Do you know how many people we can feed?" .. I was getting excited at the thought of it.  And then reality slapped me hard in the face.   We will not be housing people here.  We will not be feeding people here.  This is an airport.  You are back in North America.  This is the land of resources.  This is the land of indulgence.  This is not the land of survival.

I remember feeling happy to be heading home, I missed my family and my friends.  I was glad to be going back to them.  But at the same time, I wasn't happy at all.  My normal had changed.  My life had been picked up and completely turned upside down.  How do you navigate your way back "home" after that? My definition of normal was the complete opposite of what my loved ones definition was.  How do I explain this to them? How do I tell them about all I've seen, all I've felt..

I found it hard to articulate the depths of my experiences.  I found it hard to articulate how I was feeling.  I struggled with peoples ignorance.  I struggled with how sheltered people were.  I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.   I remember forcing myself to smile and having to talk myself into focusing and actually engaging in conversations as my mind was constantly drifting off.  I just so badly wanted them to understand.  I so badly wanted to hold their eye lids open and make them see everything that I saw.  I wanted them to experience the same awakening that I had.  But I couldn't.

I couldn't make people understand the depths of the suffering I was exposed to on a daily basis.  I couldn't make them understand the reality of our world outside of our small community.   I couldn't make them understand how a woman fed her baby to the pigs.  I couldn't make them watch young boys be beaten with butts of automatic weapons in front of my eyes.  I couldn't make them understand that the people that I loved were dying from simple illnesses like the flu - simply because they couldn't afford water to stay hydrated or a taxi ride to the hospital.  I couldn't make them understand that child slavery is real and that it has happened to children that mean the world to me.  I couldn't make them understand the trauma.  The little boy who came to my house with burns covering his entire body because he took 5 gourdes from his mom to buy a snack at school.  Or the mother that forced her daughter to drink a bottle of bleach and she ended up in a coma.  Or the child that was left in a pit and never learned to walk because he had down syndrome.  I wanted to shake people.  I wanted to scream it in their face.  I wanted them to know... I wanted them to care...

Getting lost in that constant fight is truly exhausting. Its like running head first into a brick wall every single day. My perception had to be modified, if only to ease my own frustration. 

It’s like our eyes see differently. We are all wearing different prescription lenses. People wear glasses or contacts to see clearly. The road, their books, their Facebook messenger. 

My prescription was written when I was 18. When everything I thought I knew was altered. Someone put those glasses over my eyes and for the first time I could see clearly. My reality was changed. I can’t share my glasses with anyone, they are mine. They would make your eyes blurry, the world would be more hazy. I will never be able to make anyone see clearly with the lenses I wear.

My frustration hasn’t been for my lack of articulation or effort, it’s always been because my vision is through my glasses. The art of humanitarianism isn’t trying to force your glasses onto everyone's eyes, its finding the prescription that will fit even one person. Its that one blog post the resonates with someone, that one picture that changes someone’s perception. It's in the stories, and the fundraisers, the websites and social media likes. It’s standing in a room full of people and telling them about the atrocities I have witnessed, the trauma that I have seen endured. 

For me, the fire has been reignited lately and I once again am overflowing with this burning passion to do more, to be more.  I can't wait to get my feet on the ground again and once again be consumed by this chaos.  I am prepared for the journey ahead, and this time, with a refreshed mind and eager heart.  On July 25th I will be heading back "home" and I couldn't be more excited.

To any of my humanitarian friends out there.-- I know you feel exhausted. I know how hard you fight to enlighten people. I know how tough it is to balance between two different lifestyles, two different worlds. Having your heart ripped between multiple countries. I know the guilt, the anger, the bitterness, the grief you experience. I know that it is an uphill battle that you feel like you are never going to win. But I also know that you have the fight in you. Do not suppress it. Do not shrink yourself to fit in someone else's box. Do not dim your light. Keep burning. Keep going. Because that's why you are here. The world needs more people that don't quit. That don't walk away even when you may have all of the odds against you. The world needs more people with burning passion. People that make people feel uncomfortable, so please friends, keep being the optometrists for your cause. Keep trying to find the right prescription, that is the only way we can help the world see clearly.

Change is Ineviatable. Growth is Optional.

They say change is inevitable.  And that rings true for many aspects of life.  You learn, you grow, you have new experiences.  Each new experience (whether good or bad) helps to transform you and shape you into who you are.  Change is often scary, usually, we resist change.  However, it comes to a point where it truly is inevitable and where it allows us to become who we are meant to be.  It pushes us in new directions.  It forces us to step out of our comfort zone.  It presents us with new opportunities.

I began my journey doing humanitarian work when I was 18 years old.  I traveled to Ghana, Africa where I was a caregiver at an orphanage and taught English at a rural school.  I lived with a local host family and was exposed to extreme poverty and the harshness of our world first hand.  This experience was my awakening.  It gave me a whole new perspective on life, and a new sense of gratitude.  This trip was my transformation from teenage years to adulthood.  For the first time, I was a minority.  For the first time, I was alone in a country left to figure out how to navigate the streets, the language, and the culture.  Numerous times I found myself lost in different towns where I couldn't pronounce the names.  I ran out of money because I used it all on taxi fares to the wrong places.  I had to teach English but was given no supplies to do so. I had to learn how to teach using body language and by drawing in the dirt.  I had to learn how to problem solve very quickly.  These are just some of the smallest examples of the challenges I faced as I began this journey.  However, each challenge allowed me to grow.  To become more aware.

When I first traveled to Haiti in 2011 I went down there with this burning passion to help.  I wanted to save people.  I wanted to be soooo impactful.  I went down with the notion in my head that "these people need me" or "I can help save this country".  However, I was 19 and very naive and those ideologies quickly died as I dove deeper into the complexities of the country and realized the enormity of the task at hand.  I could not change Haiti.  As a 19 year old, that was a difficult pill to swallow.  Over the first year of working there, I worked in 7 orphanages, 2 hospitals, and 1 medical clinic.  I fell in love with the Haitian people and especially with the children.  I knew that my heart was there.

When I returned to University in 2012 I struggled with the culture shock of returning home.  It's funny because I have always experienced more culture shock coming back to Canada, then I have ever experienced going to a foreign country.  I remember sitting in my classroom of 200 people and feeling this massive pit in my stomach as I looked across the room and saw the number of open mac books on the desks.  All I could think was "if we sold all of these mac books, it would be enough to rebuild the school I was working at AND furnish it with desks, chairs, chalkboards, and the supplies those kids would need to learn".  I left that class feeling angry.  Feeling disappointed in our society.  Feeling guilty for being born into Canada and for the those I had met that unfortunately weren't so lucky in the lottery of life.

I decided that if I was going to be in Canada, I still needed to be doing something.  I began Hime For Help in February 2012.  My initial goal was to raise funds for developing countries that were suffering from natural disasters, war, famine, and disease.  I wanted to raise funds and support other organizations and projects that I had previously worked with.

Two weeks after I received Non-Profit status, I was contacted by a friend down in Haiti about a group of children that needed assistance.  He knew my heart was there.  He knew that's where I wanted to be.  These kids had no beds, no furniture, and they were needing medical attention.  I put my University studies on hold and went down there with $500 to my name.  After digging deeper and requesting files for the children in this Haitian run orphanage, I started to piece together that something was not right.  As more and more information came out, it became obvious that corruption was rampant in this institution.   A local judge came and ordered the man out, child protective services was called, and I was then left responsible for 11 children.

I found out that more than half of these children had two living parents.  We were able to successfully reunite 5 children with their families.  The remainder stayed in our care.  We lived in a small house in the country side where we had no water, electricity, furniture, and where rats, tarantulas, and cockroaches were our roommates.  I still remember having our first group of volunteers come down and they brought us a can opener and I almost cried.  We had been opening cans using a rock and knife. 

We ended up moving to Port Au Prince (the capital city) so that we would have better access to health care and education.  Our conditions improved immensely with the move.   I began speaking Creole fluently after 3 short months which also allowed me to communicate with the locals and to learn more about their country and culture. 

I made Haiti my home.  Those kids became my family.  They were my pride and joy.  They taught me so much.  My plan was to spend the rest of my life raising these beautiful children and being in Haiti with them.

My life became constant chaos.  In Haiti, there is always someone who needs help.  There is always some type of emergency.  There is always something you need to be doing.  You can burn out quickly.  But I absolutely loved it.

In my first few years in Haiti, I learned some really tough lessons and had to swallow some more of those hard pills I talked about previously.  I learned first hand about corruption, violence, theft, and manipulation.  But one of the most important lessons that I learned was about poverty, and the impacts it has on those who fall victim to it. 

I learned that yes- this country runs rampant with corruption, violence, theft, manipulation, etc.  However, a lot of these things stem from the environment they were raised in.  When you live in survival mode- you do what it takes to survive.  When you have a child screaming in pain because they are starving- you do what it takes to provide.  When you have no clothes or shoes to your name and suddenly there's an entire room filled with shoes and clothes- you take some.  Your morals are pushed aside when you are desperate. 

Many organizations began pulling out of Haiti for these reasons.  The corruption is too much.  The manipulation that they experienced from their own staff was too much.  The risks became too much.  And rightfully so.

On top of the lesson about poverty, as the years passed, I was taught another lesson.  This lesson was one of the most difficult for me.  It was the lesson about orphanages.  A lesson I did not want to accept or acknowledge for a long time.  Because truth is scary.  And not knowing what to do with that truth is even scarier.

In Haiti, there are hundreds of orphanages, often filled with hundreds of children.  However, 80% of those children are not actually orphans.  You might be thinking- why is this such a hard pill to swallow when you already experienced it when you first took over the children's home? It was a hard pill to swallow because I full heatedly wanted to believe that my experience, was a rare one.  That the corruption I experienced, wasn't true for other orphanages- especially since the majority of them are run by religious organizations.   However, once I decided that I had to look further into this "truth", I couldn't look back.  I became so morally conflicted as I had worked in numerous orphanages.  I had been that orphanage tourist taking pictures with the kids.  I had been part of the problem.

I was now caring for 15 children- and although we were not a typical orphanage- I still felt morally conflicted.  I felt like we could be making such a bigger impact then what we are making.  Although these 15 children have grown immensely in numerous ways and I know that for some- we have literally saved their life.  I still felt like I needed to be doing more.  I started wondering about how this orphanage crisis began or why it is still happening.  And once again I opened a door to a harsh reality.

The majority of children in orphanages are not orphans as stated previously.  The majority of these children are given up by their parents or abandoned at orphanage doors because they believe that an orphanage will provide their child with a better life.  An orphanage will put food in their bellies.  An orphanage will educate the child.  An orphanage will raise their child to be successful so that their child can help support their family.  Their child would become the bread winner if he/she is raised in an orphanage.  And some of these facts might be accurate.  Maybe the child would thrive better in the orphanage environment then in the environment the family was living in at that time.   However, it does not make it right. The root problem once again being poverty. 

Orphanages spend hundreds of thousands (sometimes millions) of dollars caring for these children in their institutions.  But the majority of them do nothing to support the families that these children came from.  Instead of institutionalizing these children, should we not be rather investing in the families and allowing these children to grow up being raised by their parents? Should we not be assisting these parents to rise above their current circumstances and potentially rise above poverty?

For the past two years I struggled with this back and forth.  I was scared of this truth.  I didn't know what to do with it.  How could I express my concerns with those back home and with our supporters without seeming like a hypocrite? I had always promoted the support of orphanages- I had worked in numerous orphanages.  I became depressed over it.  I became ashamed of myself for not realizing this truth sooner.  I stopped wanting to do humanitarian work at one point.  I considered completely withdrawing all involvement from Haiti.  I became angry.  I stopped asking people for support for Hime For Help.  I stopped wanting to talk about it.   I got to the point where I was going to resign from my own organization.

However, that all began to change.  It began to change when I accepted this truth.  When I realized that I needed to talk about how morally conflicted I was.  The first step started with my board of directors- I didn't dive into too many details- but hinted that I really wanted to change our vision.  I wanted to implement some new projects.  But I was still lacking the confidence to fully come out and explain what I wanted to do and what I had been brainstorming over the past few years.

I met a few individuals over coffee.  I began explaining my situation and how morally conflicted I was.  I began to explain the "truth" that I had discovered and that I need to do something about this truth.  They asked some hard questions "do you really want to keep doing this work? Haven't you invested enough of your life into? Don't you want to focus on YOU for awhile?".  I decided to go home and actually dedicate a few days to really thinking those questions over.  I knew I was burnt out.  I knew that I was experiencing some compassion fatigue.  But as soon as I started thinking of walking away from those I grew to love in Haiti, those that I call family or friends, walking away from the place I called home and the culture that helped to shape me into who I am today, I couldn't.  That burning passion once again returned.  I was overcome with emotion.  I realized that I have spent those vital years (your early 20's) of when you are finding yourself, and discovering who you are, in Haiti.  It has become a part of my identity.  It is where I learned some of my most important lessons. It is where I conceived my first child.  It is where I found meaning/purpose to my life.  It is where I was smacked in the face with some harsh realities about our world.  How can I just walk away? How can I sit silent and not doing anything to work towards ending those harsh realities I now know of?

I went back to these same people explaining my decision.  I explained that I had two choices- I either walk away (and likely lose my sense of self/purpose) OR we (as an organization) change.

I wanted to focus on a new vision.  I wanted to focus on how we can keep families together and empower them to be able to provide for their children.  I wanted to focus on creating opportunities, giving people the tools they need to succeed.  I decided that I want to work towards preventing children being given up to orphanages- I want to empower these families to stay together. 

After living in Haiti I realized how many adults (and children) are not receiving the education, training, or opportunities they need to thrive in their economy.  I have met so many driven, motivated, and talented individuals in each of the developing countries I have visited, that are simply lacking the resources they need to become successful and self-sufficient. 

Rise House International was formed only a few short months after reveling the "truths" that I had learned and the vision that I wanted to work towards.  I was blessed to have a group of very supportive individuals come behind me and push me in the right direction.  They gave me the confidence to trust myself and my decision to move forward.  Even though change is scary, and even though it might push us beyond our comfort zones, we know that without change- we cannot grow.

We will begin implementing our Business/Entrepreneur Training Program in July 2019.  We are currently in the process of transitioning from a Children's Home to a Safe Haven for Women and Children.  We will also be offering classes on Health & Nutrition, Agriculture & Sustainability, and  Maternal Health & Child Birth.   We will be working towards implementing more community outreach programs. 

I want to thank all of those who have supported us over these past 7 years.  All of our donors, sponsors, volunteers, board members, children in our care, and our Haitian Staff.  We would not be where we are today without all of YOU.

I hope that as we transition into this next chapter, that you will continue to walk with us, support us, grow with us, and share our story.

Our goal for 2019 is to train and educate 100 people.  We cannot reach that goal without the support of those around us.

"Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid only of standing still" 

www.risehouse.ca