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If What We Are Doing is Apparently So Good, Why Do I Feel So Guilty?!
Welcome to part two of my post for this week. Now it’s time to get into specifics about my volunteer experience. I apologize in advance for the length of this post.
MMM...Tastes Like Humanity
St. John’s Kitchen is a pretty amazing place, in that so many of the volunteers who help to prepare those meals day in and day out are patrons. St. John’s gives these individuals an opportunity to be productive and contributing members of their community, when everyone else in society makes them feel worthless. The amount of humanity in that place just energized me. Besides the little incident when I walked up to the door initially, I really only had patrons be superbly kind and polite. Those that I worked alongside were tremendously friendly, and helped me out whenever they could. Many of them showed me the ropes, and shared stories with me. Those who were not volunteering were tremendously kind as well, politely saying thank you when they received food, and asking “how are you today?” as I went to wipe down tables, and even rushing to hold open the door for me as I was carrying boxes upstairs. It was an incredible thing to see in such concentrated amounts, as I am used to volunteering in a more one on one setting (you are right Denise, it rivals the marathon high!). It’s an incredibly non-judgemental environment, and the regular volunteers/staff there are pretty inspirational. They know everyone’s names, and do everything they can to make things a little easier for patrons. I am so glad that I chose St. John’s as my placement. I was struggling with some life choices recently, and it was exactly the sort of thing I needed to see. I can’t wait for next week!
Frustrations, Agitations, and Revelations.
Those of you that know me, know that you can get under my skin quite easily with even the tiniest comment if it relates (or I perceive it to relate) to gender discrimination. It’s definitely one of my biggest frustrations in life, having someone define me based on my gender/sex and make judgement calls on my abilities because I happen to be “female”. I will spare you all the existential rant about my views on gender/sex, but ultimately, I view my talents and skills as a reflection of my experience, opportunity and interests, not my gender. Once I get settled into a place, the people I surround myself with are aware that I feel this way, and usually feel the same way too, so it’s a non-issue. But typically when I start a new position, I find I have to really fight to be respected and challenged. There were a handful of incidents while at St. John’s on Friday, that definitely got under my skin a little, and made me reflect a lot on the challenges I will face in Nairobi. For instance, I was helping several fellows unload a delivery truck full of boxes of food, and I would purposely be handed bread or small containers because I was the only girl there. I also got talked down to a couple of times when I asked for help lifting a box off the top shelf, because they assumed it was the weight and not my height that was an issue. Really, if they had a stool available I would have done it myself. I was also called sweety, honey, and darling quite a bit during the day too. I get that I’m small, and get told quite often I still look like I’m 16, but it’s incredibly frustrating to constantly have to push twice as hard for people to take me seriously, or to have them challenge me. At the end of the day, these are really small things - they make my eye twitch a little, but I move on. But I fear that in Nairobi I am going to experience a lot more than that, and on a pretty regular basis too. I know it will be challenging for me to deal with and keep my composure after several weeks of the same thing. But I think recognizing this will be half the battle.
One of my biggest frustrations of the day occurred while I was watching some students who were volunteering that day as well. It just seemed to me like they were just going through the motions – there because they needed to cushion their resume or something. They were standing around gossiping in the closet at times, they ignored patrons as they wiped down tables (while many of the patrons were trying to make conversation with them), and they even avoided looking people in the eye when we were distributing food. They by no means were a reflection of the volunteers there, which is possibly why I found myself really upset by it. Why even bother being there if you have no intention of trying to actually contribute? Most of the time all people really need are a smile and friendly hello – essentially acknowledgement of their existence. That takes less effort than getting to the actual kitchen itself. I’m by no means perfect, but I really don’t understand how you can eat the same food that is feeding these patrons, sit at the same tables as them, do the same chores as them, and still act as though you are being inconvenienced. How can you not be moved by the amount of kindness and community in that place?! I’m still pretty frustrated by this experience, and haven’t been able to see the silver lining or positive thread in it. But such is life I guess.
Caution: Hurdles Ahead
I mentioned in my first post, that spending time at St. John’s Kitchen both energized me and weighed me down. I explained the first part of that statement, so now on to the latter half. I’m a pretty terrible conversationalist in general, and often feel like I don’t have much to say to people. It’s not that I can’t relate to them, I just don’t know where to start. I find small talk pretty useless, because it doesn’t reveal much about people. I want to learn from people, and hear about their real experiences, not talk about the weather! But I recognize that a certain amount of small talk is necessary when you first meet people – you can’t debate politics, philosophy and religion right off the bat (although I would love too). So, I usually resort to the old standbys, “where do you go to school?”, “where are you from?”, “what do you do?”. Not so much relevant in a place like St. John’s Kitchen when more than ¾ of the people there don’t have answers to these things. But usually when these things fail, I have a few standbys: running, sign language, even Beyond Borders. But I found that I didn’t even really want to talk about these things, because I felt like a spoiled little girl who just came down to volunteer because the course she was taking at university made her. A lot of the time, I found myself at a loss for words beyond “how are you today?” and “how long have you been with St. John’s Kitchen?”. It really made me reflect a lot on how privilege and class separation is really very alienating. Not the most enlightened revelation, I know, and it certainly isn’t a new one, but it was a stark reminder that at the end of the day, I can list my accomplishments off all I want, but what do they really mean?! They just reek of money and privilege. That’s it. When you strip it all down, we are all the same, some of us just got lucky. When I mentioned I was weighed down after the experience this is what I meant. To be blunt, I felt like a huge tool being there. Ultimately, I am spending time with St. John’s Kitchen because of this course. I will be there 4.5 hours a week until I leave for my trip, and then I will never be back – not because I don’t want to, but because I will be in Nairobi for the summer, then in September I won’t be living in KW anymore. And let’s face it, I am getting a lot more out of this then the people I am supposedly helping. I get to learn from the experience and try and use it towards self improvement, I get to add one more thing to my resume, and ideally I should be able to come out of there feeling pretty good about myself because I am “doing a good thing”. The only thing that those patrons are getting from me is a smile and a spoonful (or several spoonfuls) of food – all things that they can get from any of the various volunteers in that place. So like I said in the title, if what we are doing is so good, why do I feel so guilty? I actually avoided talking about beyond borders with friends and family for a long while, because I hated hearing “oh you are doing such a good thing”. Same thing goes with asking for money for this trip – I feel like I am asking people to pay for my vacation. This experience is something I have always wanted to do, and I don't negate the fact that there is good work being done, but I am finding myself being weighed down with the feeling that I am using the people of Nairobi for my own self improvement. I will come home after three months with all this newly acquired knowledge and skills, and I will return to the same cushy western life, and they will still be there. I get on paper, that I am doing a “good thing” and will hopefully become more engaged with social justice issues in my own communities when I get home, but there is something that just isn’t clicking about it when I try and process that. And I also realize, that doing nothing is not the answer either - every little bit counts, but that good ol' guilt just keeps bubbling up to the surface. It definitely has me quite worried about the reintegration process, and I haven’t even left for Nairobi yet. Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into here?! Hooray for existential crices!
I know that was a long one, so thanks to those of you who stuck it out.
Cheers!
-Cat
Welcome to part two of my post for this week. Now it’s time to get into specifics about my volunteer experience. I apologize in advance for the length of this post.
MMM...Tastes Like Humanity
St. John’s Kitchen is a pretty amazing place, in that so many of the volunteers who help to prepare those meals day in and day out are patrons. St. John’s gives these individuals an opportunity to be productive and contributing members of their community, when everyone else in society makes them feel worthless. The amount of humanity in that place just energized me. Besides the little incident when I walked up to the door initially, I really only had patrons be superbly kind and polite. Those that I worked alongside were tremendously friendly, and helped me out whenever they could. Many of them showed me the ropes, and shared stories with me. Those who were not volunteering were tremendously kind as well, politely saying thank you when they received food, and asking “how are you today?” as I went to wipe down tables, and even rushing to hold open the door for me as I was carrying boxes upstairs. It was an incredible thing to see in such concentrated amounts, as I am used to volunteering in a more one on one setting (you are right Denise, it rivals the marathon high!). It’s an incredibly non-judgemental environment, and the regular volunteers/staff there are pretty inspirational. They know everyone’s names, and do everything they can to make things a little easier for patrons. I am so glad that I chose St. John’s as my placement. I was struggling with some life choices recently, and it was exactly the sort of thing I needed to see. I can’t wait for next week!
Frustrations, Agitations, and Revelations.
Those of you that know me, know that you can get under my skin quite easily with even the tiniest comment if it relates (or I perceive it to relate) to gender discrimination. It’s definitely one of my biggest frustrations in life, having someone define me based on my gender/sex and make judgement calls on my abilities because I happen to be “female”. I will spare you all the existential rant about my views on gender/sex, but ultimately, I view my talents and skills as a reflection of my experience, opportunity and interests, not my gender. Once I get settled into a place, the people I surround myself with are aware that I feel this way, and usually feel the same way too, so it’s a non-issue. But typically when I start a new position, I find I have to really fight to be respected and challenged. There were a handful of incidents while at St. John’s on Friday, that definitely got under my skin a little, and made me reflect a lot on the challenges I will face in Nairobi. For instance, I was helping several fellows unload a delivery truck full of boxes of food, and I would purposely be handed bread or small containers because I was the only girl there. I also got talked down to a couple of times when I asked for help lifting a box off the top shelf, because they assumed it was the weight and not my height that was an issue. Really, if they had a stool available I would have done it myself. I was also called sweety, honey, and darling quite a bit during the day too. I get that I’m small, and get told quite often I still look like I’m 16, but it’s incredibly frustrating to constantly have to push twice as hard for people to take me seriously, or to have them challenge me. At the end of the day, these are really small things - they make my eye twitch a little, but I move on. But I fear that in Nairobi I am going to experience a lot more than that, and on a pretty regular basis too. I know it will be challenging for me to deal with and keep my composure after several weeks of the same thing. But I think recognizing this will be half the battle.
One of my biggest frustrations of the day occurred while I was watching some students who were volunteering that day as well. It just seemed to me like they were just going through the motions – there because they needed to cushion their resume or something. They were standing around gossiping in the closet at times, they ignored patrons as they wiped down tables (while many of the patrons were trying to make conversation with them), and they even avoided looking people in the eye when we were distributing food. They by no means were a reflection of the volunteers there, which is possibly why I found myself really upset by it. Why even bother being there if you have no intention of trying to actually contribute? Most of the time all people really need are a smile and friendly hello – essentially acknowledgement of their existence. That takes less effort than getting to the actual kitchen itself. I’m by no means perfect, but I really don’t understand how you can eat the same food that is feeding these patrons, sit at the same tables as them, do the same chores as them, and still act as though you are being inconvenienced. How can you not be moved by the amount of kindness and community in that place?! I’m still pretty frustrated by this experience, and haven’t been able to see the silver lining or positive thread in it. But such is life I guess.
Caution: Hurdles Ahead
I mentioned in my first post, that spending time at St. John’s Kitchen both energized me and weighed me down. I explained the first part of that statement, so now on to the latter half. I’m a pretty terrible conversationalist in general, and often feel like I don’t have much to say to people. It’s not that I can’t relate to them, I just don’t know where to start. I find small talk pretty useless, because it doesn’t reveal much about people. I want to learn from people, and hear about their real experiences, not talk about the weather! But I recognize that a certain amount of small talk is necessary when you first meet people – you can’t debate politics, philosophy and religion right off the bat (although I would love too). So, I usually resort to the old standbys, “where do you go to school?”, “where are you from?”, “what do you do?”. Not so much relevant in a place like St. John’s Kitchen when more than ¾ of the people there don’t have answers to these things. But usually when these things fail, I have a few standbys: running, sign language, even Beyond Borders. But I found that I didn’t even really want to talk about these things, because I felt like a spoiled little girl who just came down to volunteer because the course she was taking at university made her. A lot of the time, I found myself at a loss for words beyond “how are you today?” and “how long have you been with St. John’s Kitchen?”. It really made me reflect a lot on how privilege and class separation is really very alienating. Not the most enlightened revelation, I know, and it certainly isn’t a new one, but it was a stark reminder that at the end of the day, I can list my accomplishments off all I want, but what do they really mean?! They just reek of money and privilege. That’s it. When you strip it all down, we are all the same, some of us just got lucky. When I mentioned I was weighed down after the experience this is what I meant. To be blunt, I felt like a huge tool being there. Ultimately, I am spending time with St. John’s Kitchen because of this course. I will be there 4.5 hours a week until I leave for my trip, and then I will never be back – not because I don’t want to, but because I will be in Nairobi for the summer, then in September I won’t be living in KW anymore. And let’s face it, I am getting a lot more out of this then the people I am supposedly helping. I get to learn from the experience and try and use it towards self improvement, I get to add one more thing to my resume, and ideally I should be able to come out of there feeling pretty good about myself because I am “doing a good thing”. The only thing that those patrons are getting from me is a smile and a spoonful (or several spoonfuls) of food – all things that they can get from any of the various volunteers in that place. So like I said in the title, if what we are doing is so good, why do I feel so guilty? I actually avoided talking about beyond borders with friends and family for a long while, because I hated hearing “oh you are doing such a good thing”. Same thing goes with asking for money for this trip – I feel like I am asking people to pay for my vacation. This experience is something I have always wanted to do, and I don't negate the fact that there is good work being done, but I am finding myself being weighed down with the feeling that I am using the people of Nairobi for my own self improvement. I will come home after three months with all this newly acquired knowledge and skills, and I will return to the same cushy western life, and they will still be there. I get on paper, that I am doing a “good thing” and will hopefully become more engaged with social justice issues in my own communities when I get home, but there is something that just isn’t clicking about it when I try and process that. And I also realize, that doing nothing is not the answer either - every little bit counts, but that good ol' guilt just keeps bubbling up to the surface. It definitely has me quite worried about the reintegration process, and I haven’t even left for Nairobi yet. Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into here?! Hooray for existential crices!
I know that was a long one, so thanks to those of you who stuck it out.
Cheers!
-Cat
Wow, seriously good post. Extremely reflective and brave! I say brave because I can most certainly relate to your feelings of guilt around what you will be getting out of this trip. So far, I've been too afraid to admit it outloud because then it just might be true, but I too worry that I am using this experience as a means for personal improvement. The thing is, you can't help but be drastically changed by an experience like this. It's an inevitable by-product of experiences such as these, supposing you let them. The important thing is to let the change happen. Depsite the cliche, you ARE doing a good thing, not because you want the recognition, but because you want to make a difference. Keep focusing on your purpose in this experience, and the guilt around your reasons will fade. As for the guilt around your privilege, give youself a break. Like you said, we are all the same, some people just have luck. And it's what people can do with their privilege that can make all the difference.
Thanks for the comment Tina. I really appreciate it. =) I have sort of decided that maybe the guilt is a necessary part of the experience - I don't think I would like the type of person I would be if I didn't feel this way. I don't know that the guilt will ever really fade, but in this case, I think it is a reminder that I need to keep working towards these goals.
wow. i actually just agreed with every point you made in that post. just wow.
I completely understand your guilt, especially after going to the Good Global Citizenship Think Tank. One of the things that was brought up was "do we really need to send the students away to get the full experience or can they stay here in Canada?". Some reasons for this thought were:
1. If these programs are trying to promote equality, then why can they only target privileged people who have the money to travel?
2. Our local communities need help too and their needs shouldn't be downplayed because it isn't an exotic location or because the entire country is viewed as well-off.
3. We say we are "doing good", but then what about the environmental impact of sending a single student across the world to help and then back again? Are we possibly imposing more bad than good this way?
4. The communities that we students travel to "help" don't usually have the resources to take on another mouth feed, so are we being more of a burden than a beacon of light?
The fact that you recognize that the privileges you have are based on luck means that you're off to a good start in doing something good. It is better that someone like you, who cares, has these privileges and the capacity to help those that weren't lucky this time around.