People often ask me what it is that motivates me to do what I do for a living. The question itself often perplexes me to begin with. Because as for me, being a development worker, an activist and humanitarian, this is not a choice at all. It represents something so much more to me and instead takes the form of a calling or better yet, a lifetime commitment to justice, equality and change.
To understand this a little more clearly I have to dig into my own background a little more. See, I was born on a small island nation in what is considered the Global South. My family and I immigrated to Australia when I was just a baby but my parents vowed to consistently remind me just how lucky I was compared to so many others. To illustrate this they took me to discover other cultures through steady travel within my childhood. When I was young I couldn’t quite understand why they dragged me around so much. The places we found ourselves in to me made no sense, but looking back now, it’s all too obvious that these endeavours were to remind me of my inherent privilege.
The one poignant memory I have from these years was when I first visited India at the age of 14. We were at a prominent tourist destination in the nation’s capital and had just stepped out on to the street in front of this place. As soon as I looked up I saw a child no older than 10 in brown tattered clothing, carrying her baby sister begging on the street. She was barefoot and the look of utter desperation on her face plagues me even today.
I remember walking away from that encounter wondering why it was that she had been dealt that fate in life and I had been lucky enough to have another. I thought about what dreams she had for her life and what she could achieve if her family were assisted to raise themselves out of the crippling cycle of poverty that meant she had to beg on the streets just to survive.
It is evident to me now just how stark of a comparison that day would have set. While I was affected by this child’s lot in life and it saddened me greatly, I was able to walk away and back to the safety and privilege on my own life. It didn’t seem right, it didn’t seem fair.
I am haunted by the image of this young girl even today. The look on her face, the desperation, the despair, the vulnerability will stay with me for a lifetime. But it forms the backbone for the reason why I do what I do. From that day onwards a seed was planted in my psyche. It formed a deep commitment in which I knew I would ultimately dedicate my life to.
Years later, I would hope I can say that I mirror this commitment in my life. I work each and every day to ensure that people who are marginalised and vulnerable are assisted with the opportunities to better their own lives.
I draw on the understanding that each human being is born with dignity and capacity with their own individual strengths. The only difference between myself and that child in the street is that I was privileged enough to access an education, provided with adequate health care and supported to achieve my dreams.
My role as I see it is to try and influence change towards transforming systems which keep people entrenched in poverty. As I head to work each day and into the field to visit communities in India, I am reminded of what holds my commitment to poverty reduction and equality and justice firm; the circumstance of that young girl and so many others like her.
For me, this isn’t a choice; I have to act, that is my responsibility; that is just who I am.
Sx
I blog for Change. 