Mr. Nartey, the regional manager of the Eastern Region shows us Moringa seeds for the first time. looking for answersMy first two project choices for this fellowship were with MoringaConnect and Farmerline. When these two projects became one and I was chosen, with my partners Kimmie and Jean, to take it on, I was exuberant. This excitement for agricultural social enterprises confused my friends and family. Though I was interested in sustainable and international development, my focus at the time was climate mitigation, something that normally happens in cities. At the time, I had a general idea of why the project was interesting to me, but if pressed, the explanation probably wouldn’t have gone too deep. Mostly, I wanted to develop a deeper understanding of social enterprises, and see if they actually created the kind of social change I had been told they did. And, as I was a hopeless idealist, I wanted to know concrete ways I could make a difference, using the experience, as I stated in my application essay, “to learn how to effect permanent, positive change." A moringa plant beginning to grow. The answer to this broad question was not immediately apparent, as during the field I found it hard to take a step back and examine the whole picture. We were thrown into the chaos of Accra traffic, seemingly never-ending pot-holed roads, new cultural norms, and scheduling mishaps as we attempted to meet with as many farmers, field agents and partner organizations as possible in our short seven weeks in the field. In the heat of the moment, I sometimes found myself being confused as to why I had chosen to do the research in this agricultural context. Unlike Jean, I did not have an overwhelming desire to see farmer’s fields. Learning about agricultural techniques was interesting, but it didn’t ignite my passion. learning to listenInstead, I found meaning and purpose in our interviews. Hearing the stories of farmers and field agents was heartbreaking. It was joyful. It was tragic, confusing, fascinating, heartwarming, complex and moving. These conversations were what inspired me. People were patient as we initially stumbled through our interview guide and accidentally spent 3 hours in one interview trying to figure out how to talk with two people at once. People were open, honest, and shared their lives with us as we sat together in plastic chairs and wood benches in front yards, cocoa processing warehouses, churches, and fields. Interviewing a cocoa farmer in the Ashanti region with our incredible translator Abigail. I remember one interview where everyone we were supposed to interview during one day all came to the same place at once. In this unexpected five-person interview, there was a man who brought a little orange notebook to take notes. I didn’t know why, but seeing that little orange notebook made me want to burst into tears on the spot. Here we were trying to get information and learn from him, yet he also saw the interview as valuable. This man wanted to participate in a value-exchange and retain any information that would make him a better field agent. This intention was shared by the most every farmer and field agent we met. They believed that we could make a real change in the enterprise they worked with, and wanted any resource that would help them help themselves, and people in their communities. Still, I was surprised every day by individual’s willingness to share their stories. Listening to a community of moringa farmers in the Eastern Region. I have realized now that the farmers and field agents we connected with were willing to share because we were there to listen. We were there to hear their trials, tribulations, successes and desires. People knew this, and they knew we would take this information back to the enterprises that could then better equip them with tools to transform their own lives. Social entrepreneurship is unique in this regard. Social enterprises don’t just sell things without intention, or even give people things with intention. Instead, they work within the system to offer people tools and opportunities to help themselves. When people are given this opportunity, they can transform their lives, the lives of their family, and their community. This work, of empowering others to make their own change, is where I want to operate. a future for everyoneIt’s funny, I feel like in some ways this experience has completely ruined my future career options. Getting to connect with new people every day, learning from individuals in vastly different contexts than my own, and being involved in projects that were aligned with social impact was incredibly meaningful. Through this fellowship I was able to cultivate a deeper understanding of a new culture and of the pervasive problems present in the Ghanaian agricultural system. Working with these challenges, I discovered my excitement for research that directly contributes towards the creation of systemic solutions. Doing this work made me feel like I was making actual change. I’ve realized I can never sit in cubicle ever again and have permanently crossed those jobs off my list. Wherever my vocational discernment takes me, I now know that I can actively be involved in changing an unjust equilibrium, and can use innovative entrepreneurial thinking to find solutions that empower others. I also now know that even working on even a tiny piece of a complex global challenge is incredibly difficult. There are sacrifices, complex interdependencies, and a whole lot of ambiguity, but as humans we can use empathy and problem-solving to work through them. As Pope Francis in Laudato Si says: “Many things have to change course, but it is we human beings above all who need to change. We lack an awareness of our common origin, of our mutual belonging, and of a future to be shared with everyone. This basic awareness would enable the development of new convictions, attitudes and forms of life.” My experience throughout the fellowship has helped me develop a deeper understanding of this mutual belonging, and has given me an even greater desire to create a future that can be shared by everyone. Getting to get a glimpse into farmers lives. Ibrahim in the Ashanti Region of Ghana showing us his moringa farm. agents of changeIt took me an embarrassing long time to realize that our project wasn’t really about agriculture. It was about understanding human motivations, decision-making, economic incentives, and the relationships people share that make them embedded in their community. Listening to people with an open heart and an open mind was the way I could start to understand these complex human systems and was the role our team could play to help our enterprises scale their impacts. I desire to continue listening to people, hearing their needs, and co-creating solutions that equip communities with resources to be their own agents of change. Working to understand how the nuances of field agent management in urban vegetable farming. I am still am a hopeless idealist, and still aim to effect permanent positive change. My time as a Global Social Benefit Fellow has given me the skills, knowledge, experiences, and mindset needed to continue pursuing this throughout all of my vocations. I will be forever grateful for my incredible teammates Kimmie and Jean, and mentors Keith and Thane, for being by my side in this journey, and inspiring me to keep working towards a better future. Dream team!
0 Comments
Since our plane touched down in SFO, the question: “How was Ghana?” has been posed to me an uncountable amount of times. To some, I can respond with a casual conversation, giving a background in social entrepreneurship, my host organizations, and the teammates I conducted research with. Others who have asked have received cryptic responses such as: “It was an adventure,” or, “I learned and grew a lot,” or, “The research process was really interesting.” However, most commonly when asked in passing, questioners receive “good” as an answer. To give these responses is frustrating, confusing, and has aided me in skipping over reflection. They have allowed me to disconnect from an 7 week experience that brought forth humility, challenged my notions, and pushed my understanding of global systems as well as where in them I belong. But how does anyone sum up such an experience to an acquaintance you pass by in the library? Having the privilege to travel extensively throughout my childhood, I initially felt a heightened sense of preparedness for my team’s placement in Ghana. I had ideas of what to expect, and through extensive research preparation, felt as though this was a opportunity I could pursue with confidence. Our first interview immediately challenged this. Driving through dirt roads in punishing heat, my team visited one of MoringaConnect’s farmers, John. Pushing through thick weeds and brush, we eventually made our way to a large plot of land nestled in thick fauna. Though I had my list of questions and a notebook, suddenly none of them made sense in our newfound context. Instead of getting to sit down with John one on one and speak with him, we were circled with other extension officers, MoringaConnect’s regional manager, his wife and young daughter slung up in a fabric wrap. After several failed greetings and awkward smiles exchanged, we called over our regional manager to translate. Standing over John holding my pen and paper, I had never felt so out of place. I was suddenly unsure of what to do, and how I could even ask my questions. Squatting down to be at eye level, I did my best to quickly change our convoluted and out of place questions to something that was understandable and could elicit meaning. I’m sure I failed spectacularly. Sitting there, I felt overwhelmingly frustrated. Frustrated that I couldn’t show John that I was here to learn from him, and frustrated that I couldn’t communicate or obtain meaningful answers. I was no longer full of confidence. Instead I was deeply humbled and had little idea of how to proceed from there. Our first interviewee, John. Upper Manya Krobo District, Eastern Region.
Mr. Nartey instructing a new community of farmers on how to plant moringa. Upper Manya Krobo District, Eastern Region. But what happens when it doesn’t change lives? In fact it makes them worse? When working in the Ashanti region, we were able to visit a Ejura, a community that had been growing moringa for the past several years. When we arrived, we intended to go through our now standardized questions, ones which we could now confidently ask. Sitting with two farmers, the community chief, and the area’s regional manager Ibrahim, we quickly learned that our questions were again not appropriate for the context. Instead of getting answers about their extension officers, we heard stories of crop failure. The group told us about the initial group that started growing moringa, excited to take on a new opportunity. Each year this group had gotten smaller and smaller as pods turned moldy and were unable to be harvested. Some even set fire to their moringa trees, an investment they had to give up on. Hearing these stories made me feel a sense of betrayal. Why wasn’t this community being helped? What had allowed this to happen? Why did this fate come upon these farmers, one small piece in the large moringa network? Unable to do much besides listen to their stories with open hearts, we visited Ibrahim's field to see the moringa for ourselves. It too was either too moldy or too dry to be used, leaving Ibrahim without a profit. As we drove the two hours back to Kumasi, I felt sadness, guilt, and confusion. What is my role in this? What I can do to help farmers such as those in Ejura? Ibrahim’s forest of moringa trees. Ejura, Ashanti Region. My time in Ghana working with these farmers and field agents forced me to confront challenges I had never expected. Though some experiences were filled with sadness and discomfort as I reflected upon my privilege and positionality, others were filled with moments of joy and hope. While coming to understand the pervasive problems present in the Ghanaian agricultural system, I was able to witness the passion and dedication of individuals who believe in a better tomorrow. Though difficult to communicate these complexities to those who ask, I will continue to try and tell these stories, and those of the field agents and farmers we met, connecting through the human emotions we all share. Riding back from MoringaConnect's nucleus farm. New Longoro, Brong-Ahafo Region.
I grew up in Seattle, Washington, surrounded by the beautiful peaks and forests of the North Cascades. Most of my childhood weekends were spent in this outdoor playground, skiing and hiking with my family, expanding my love for the outdoors. Growing up amongst environmentalists, this passion was oriented to a purpose. My grandmother, a social and environmental activist, challenged her grandchildren to think critically about preserving the natural beauty of the West Coast, influencing us through her Keep Lake Tahoe Blue campaign. As a plant geneticist, my aunt taught us about the unique flora and fauna in the mountains, encouraging us to be observant hikers. While skiing with my family at Mt. Baker, my dad pointed out the irregular snow levels, telling me: “Enjoy it while you can.” This family awareness, that careless human actions threatened the West Coast that we knew and loved, ignited my interest in preserving the natural world. My brother and I excited about our hike's snack break. I eventually declared a major in Environmental Studies at Santa Clara, and through educational experiences, found my passion in Sustainable Development. The fall of my Junior year, I had the opportunity to pursue my interests in Copenhagen, Denmark. My explorations spanned my educational background, from food sustainability and urban resilience, to low-impact transportation and green energy. I experienced the local, organic and biodynamic food and farming culture of Nordic nations, witnessed accessible environmental education, learned about the power of green roofs, saw effective waste management in action, commuted 25 miles daily without the use of a car, and, with the aid of virtual reality, stood atop one of the many wind turbines that produce 130% of Denmark's energy. Experiencing the success of these regional and local environmental initiatives, jump-started my interest in sustainable systems that could both empower people and help the planet. Touring a green roof in Copenhagen. Growing up with my dad’s voracious appetite for adventure and appreciation for other cultures, I was continually expanding my comfort zone. Influenced by our adventurous parents, my family traveled locally and globally, encouraging me to think differently about the world and my own experiences. When I was 13, my parents flew us across the world for a summer trip through southern Africa. We rented a truck, and for the three months we drove through national parks in South Africa, Mozambique, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia, camping outdoors and staying in village hostels. With no satellite phone, and completely on our own, all we had was our GPS leading us across more than 9,300 miles, in and out of rivers, through deep bush and packed village marketplaces. In his element, my dad took every opportunity to interact with local cultures, exponentially expanding my comfort zone. While in South Africa, my family took a locally-guided hike through one of the many national parks, and after hours of conversation with my dad, the guide brought us to his village and introduced us to his family. Walking through urban slums and rural villages, I experienced the stark reality of poverty, something so remote in my childhood education. Playing soccer with my international peers using a plastic bag solidified this salient experience, and I returned from Africa with a deeper understanding of social inequalities. This human connection, among others, fueled a greater awareness of the world, and helped me to confront my own privilege. Through these immersive experiences, I also found a love for international exploration, and was eager to travel again. Our typical camp set up. This was taken in a national park of Botswana. Growing up, my love for adventure expanded beyond lived experiences. Books were a blank slate for my imagination, filled with unique characters and beautiful landscapes, magic and mystery. I devoured Harry Potter, His Dark Materials, and The Chronicles of Narnia, getting lost in universes beyond mine. Reading expanded the lens through which I saw the world, nurturing my love of new ideas and experiences. In my education, this love has transformed into dreaming up creative solutions, exploring unique ideas, and learning beyond my comfort zone. My favorite reading location. This love for learning and growth was especially evident in childhood athletics. I jumped from sport to sport, wanting to try every activity imaginable. I loved everything from tap-dancing to hurdling to swimming—meeting new people and learning new skills. Growing up, I wanted to do everything, and I wanted to do it well. When I found ski racing, my passion for the exhilarating sport honed my determination and competitive edge, strengthening my work ethic and desire to excel. I spent my winter hours on the mountain, speeding downhill through blizzards, carving turns on slick ice. After recovering from an injury, I transitioned my efforts to rowing, throwing myself into intense training and racing, and earning a position on the Santa Clara D1 team. My athletics taught the importance of teamwork and determination--two characteristics that manifest in how I approach problems facing the world today. Racing Giant Slalom at Mission Ridge in Washington. Surrounded by experiences, adventures, and challenges, I am, at my core, a people person. As a child, my mom watched me talk to anyone and everyone--she told me, “their age, situation or power never seemed to bother you,” adding, “you would just go up and talk to anyone.” Making connections with others, establishing relationships, and cultivating understanding outside myself has been a part of my approach to the world since childhood. In high school, I developed these skills through the practice of servant leadership. Through school student council, I participated in the Mt. Adams Leadership Camp and the “Choose Love Movement,” practicing working with my head, heart, and hands. Orienting my education toward practicing unconditional love and service for others deeply influenced my perspective and vocation, inspiring a desire for a lifestyle rooted in character, compassion, and service. Preparing to say a final goodbye to our delegates at Mt. Adams Leadership Camp. As counselors, it is tradition to stand alongside the bus route holding up signs with quotes from the week. My passion for people, my love for the environment, and my excitement for adventure, have brought me to the Global Social Benefit Fellowship. Combining my Environmental Studies concentration in Sustainable Development, and my Sociology concentration in Social Inequalities, I hope to apply my education in creating positive community change, along with developing environmental sustainability and resilience. Working as a Global Social Benefit Fellow in Ghana, I hope to create a deeper understanding of agricultural impacts, and how protecting people and cultivating our earth are intimately connected.
|
Details
AuthorHi my name is Erin! ArchivesCategories |