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
