Snapshots from a Summer in DC

Tibetan monks leading a chant prior to the Dalai Lama's speech on the Mall:

President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia, the first elected female leader in Africa, speaks at US Institute of Peace:

By Lindsay North

Pride

A few weeks ago, I went up to New York City, my favorite place and my home for three years, to visit some of my friends.  Little did I know it would be an historic weekend, with the state's government passing a bill for marriage equality.  It also happened to be the same weekend as the Gay Pride Parade.  I've gone to the Parade in the past and it's always a blast-- doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, questioning, walking through, curious, a supporter, or a participant; all are welcome.  The openness and friendliness I've experienced there are always exhilarating.  As a straight white female raised in the US, I can't begin to imagine how liberating this must be for someone who may otherwise have to hide who they really are, for whatever reasons.  This year, though, the crowd was ecstatic.  Dozens of people marched in wedding dresses despite the heat, while others opted to wear veils, tuxes, or carry bridal bouquets.  I even heard about proposals happening during the parade itself, though I didn't see any myself. 

This one picture brought a particular smile to my face:

But I was particularly moved by this picture:

I read a lot about conflict and horrific acts of violence, so I often forget that there are people living in fear in the US.  This sign was a bittersweet reminder that we still have progress to make in our own country.  Many eyes are on the US; with the passage of progressive bills such as this one that recognize the right to legally share your life and love with someone of the same gender, we can serve as a role model for countries that have endemic and/or institutionalized homophobia.

For more coverage on GLBT rights here and abroad, check:

The New York Times, "An Officer is Caught Up in the Moment"

The Moth, by Charlene Strong "It Wasn't Enough" (highly, highly recommended)

The Moth, by Lt Dan Choi "Don't Tell, Martha!"

The New Civil Rights Movement "South Sudan: Referendum for Democracy, but Not for Gays?"

By Lindsay North

Walking with Another Man’s Crutches

After what seemed like quite the academic marathon, I had finally turned in all my papers and projects and could look forward to my summer adventure in Bolivia.  I would be working for a small non-profit focused on rural development, though my specific role would be to design a women’s leadership and entrepreneurship program.  I could put my coursework from my first year into practice and see what my concentration in “women’s empowerment and workforce development” actually looked like in the field. 

I had been advised that one of the best qualities for a development practitioner to possess is flexibility.  Often projects don’t go as planned, and one has to be resourceful, creative, and patient in dealing with all the bumps along the way.  In my case though, I didn’t even get to Bolivia before I hit my bump in the road.  Two weeks before departure I was playing softball and got tackled at first base, and next thing I knew I had lined myself up for a hospital stay, surgery, and 8 weeks on crutches. The play had been made, and my trip to Bolivia was called out at the bag.

After a month of recovery, I started back at the internship I had held at Plan International USA throughout the previous school year.  Plan’s focus on community-centered development had first grabbed my attention, and I love the Because I’m a Girl campaign that focuses on gender equity.  This summer, I now have the opportunity to work full-time and to attend many of the international development conferences taking place in DC, including those sponsored by the Society for International Development and InterAction.  I have always really enjoyed working for Plan, and now I’m getting more time to work on actually supporting projects in the field.  I am helping to backstop a project we have in Ghana, in addition to writing proposals for several upcoming opportunities.

I have especially loved my work on the Youth, Education, and Workforce Development taskforce.  As my concentration for IDS focuses largely on women’s economic empowerment, I have really enjoyed learning about the transition from school to the workforce for young adults, especially girls.  My participation on the taskforce has enabled me to attend various talks and events on related topics in the area, which I somehow manage to attend by hobbling through DC’s horrible humidity.  I’ll serve as the point person for Plan’s booth at Making Cents' 5th Annual Global Youth Economic Opportunities Conference from September 7-9^th, so my preparations on that have already begun.  And my attendance at another event this week has lead to further responsibilities at work, and also really hit home regarding all I’ve been through this summer.

Last week I attended a USAID-sponsored event at the QED Group called Inclusive Education--A Discussion with Dr. Margaret McLaughlin and Lynn Losert about Best Practices and Continuing Challenges in Europe And Eurasia, Latin America, Sub-Saharan Africa, and Southeast Asia.  The goal of the talk was “to bring the various stakeholders who work on education and disability together to learn more about inclusive education, including best practices, and the contextual factors that affect program implementation.”  During the talk, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb because I am on crutches and for the time being, I am disabled.  It certainly did give me an interesting frame of wind, though- I’ve experienced how incredibly difficult it is to get around in DC, and I can only imagine how much more strenuous such a task would be without paved roads, elevators, and public transportation.

Dr. Losert delivered one of the most poignant points during the talk when she explained how a disability is only a disability in a certain context.  If schools, teachers, and communities were equipped with the knowledge, attitude, and resources to care for these children and to help them to excel to their greatest abilities, their “disability” would instead be only a “difference.”  Yet many realities, such as poverty and lack of awareness on the issue, remain in place that contribute to many people viewing these children as broken, less-than, or hopeless.

In my development understanding until this point, I had associated the term “inclusive education” with the full inclusion of girls into a country or community’s education system.  This meant that girls would have the same access to education as boys, considering such factors as school costs, personal safety, familial expectations, and they would also have the same ability as boys to excel once in the classroom.  Never I had I really thought about all the multifaceted barriers facing children with a disability- whether intellectual, physical, or emotional- that often prevent them from having equal access to education.  Or even if they have access into the facilities, are teachers trained to effectively meet their needs and are mechanisms in place to adequately measure their development?  These children have a right to benefit from a quality education that enables them to learn and grow, and to eventually contribute to society.

Much of what I heard in the talk mirrored the language surrounding gender and education. As a movement is well underway in making schools around the world more “girl-friendly,” a movement is also gaining speed on raising awareness of the rights of children with disabilities, both in and out of the classroom.  Now the next step is to figure out how we as development practitioners can be sure to effectively incorporate disability into current and future programs.

I am looking forward to jumping on this bandwagon and exploring more direct ways to incorporate a focus on disability into programming.  Plan is currently undergoing an organization-wide assessment of our efforts on this front, and I will be assisting with the monitoring from the DC office.  It’s definitely a big step in the right direction.

So maybe this message of inclusive education for children with disabilities would not have had the same impact on me had my current circumstances been different.  But as I see it, I only lost out on a trip to South America, whereas kids all over the world lose out on a lot more on account of their disability- an education and a better future. 

By Katie Appel 

*Disclaimer: This post reflects my own opinions, and not necessarily those of Plan International or Plan International USA.

World Bank Cultural Immersion

I did intern/temp/consultant (STT) work at the World Bank from the beginning of February till the end of June. I was based in the OAS for my first few months where I felt fashionably inferior next to all the fancy Latinas. The extent of the inferiority of my fashion-ability was exacerbated by the fact that I was sitting in what my co-workers and I affectionately named "the fish bowl." That is, we sat in a glass conference room in the middle of the hallway where I could constantly see the fancy Latinas flaunt by. I wasn’t invisible either. The Italian men would stare at me unabashedly every time they walked by in spite of my terrible clothes. I eventually went shopping.

In spite of these superficial awkward details, I really enjoyed being forced into this little room with some wonderfully quirky co-workers including one Bangladeshi-American that would serve us tea every day at 4:00 and discuss metaphysical dilemmas with me. He conducted daily lessons using the conference room white board. The lessons ranged from reciting Rumi poems, to the origin of alcohol, to the origin of the tales of the 100 Arabian nights, to potatoes, to cows. That's not to say that we didn't focus on our work. We did. However, these little digressions kept the morale up as we crunched data for hours on end.

At some point in the middle of the STT stint, I was in a corner office in the J building. I shared the office with my Bangladeshi friend who solved all my life problems as we continued crunching numbers. He solved my life problems, and I (upon his request) took the role of 'drill sergeant.' That meant that I would slam my hand on the table to keep him on task when he started looking up lyrics to Persian songs (as we were all getting burnt out from the number crunching).

For the last month of my stint the Bank, I was irrevocably torn from the side of my lovely co-workers. I was kind of promoted in pay. However, that meant that I had to be sent to the dungeon, (which is the basement library in the main complex where there is little cell phone service). There, I was shackled to a public expenditure review spreadsheet in which I entered data and made precision codes. Cool as hell. After a month, I managed to get the Cameroonian sitting next to me to utter a daily "hello, how are you" and a "goodbye." Those were the only words I could get out of him. This was quite a contrast from my last working environment. At least I felt fancy, being as the Latinas at the OAS had inspired me to go shopping.

It seems that almost everyone at the World Bank is from the cultural elite from all places in the world. At one point in my struggle to work my way through the Bank I was interviewed by a Kyrgyz lady from Bishkek who had seen on my resume that I spoke Kyrgyz.

"That's not useful here," she said.

I should have responded that of course it isn't useful, but it is a demonstration of my aptitude for languages and my willingness to show respect for other cultures. However, my real response was simply, "yeah, but it's cool."

She introduced me to the big boss who also learned that I spoke Kyrgyz. "Oh, you have that in common!" The big boss responded.

The Kyrgyz lady looked at the ground ashamed. It was clear that she didn't know her own native language. In other words, she was a city girl. She was of the cultural elite.

Of course she was of the cultural elite. How, really, could an average Kyrgyz girl kidnapped and isolated in a rural village have the opportunity to gain the education needed to get to where this lady had gotten? That’s not the question. The question is whether the members of the cultural elites are aware of and grateful for their privilege. Do they wear their elite background on their shoulders like a trophy? Do they really think that they deserve to be where they are more than the average girl does? I am not just talking about developing countries. These problems are present in among us Americans as well. Plenty of talent goes to waste in rural Pennsylvania, in New Orleans, and in rural Kyrgyzstan alike due to unequal opportunities.

By C.S.

Microfinance in Bolivia

Hello IDS crew,

I'm not one for doing any sort of long analytical post, but I just got reprimanded from Jessi - so I'll put a few words up. Bolivia as a whole actually is considered a pretty popular success story in the world of microfinance (this came as a suprise). I've been doing some research for a small non-profit microfinance organization that seems to be lost in the world of microfinance here. They are restructuring and whanot and asked for some suggestions on how to diversify their product offerings.

I personally found the structure of the organization extremely confusing as they seem a little bit over extended, but I wanted them to focus on a poorer segment of the population as their smallest loans currently are at $300 (with some other requirements that eliminate some of the smaller entrepreneurs in the area). I wrote up this report (in Spanish, sorry) suggesting they start a solidarity group loan in addition to their individual loans (much like the Grameen model) to eliminate the risk in including these riskier customers.

The biggest challenge is getting my supervisors to take my gringo opinion seriously. I think the one I linked to is a rough draft, but if you're intrigued, take a look. Hope all is well, I'll see you in August.

JMH

A Post from Palestine

Funny the way life leads us. My plan to spend the summer in the West Bank started out as an idea in January, a back-up plan of sorts, but by April it had become the most viable option for a summer field internship. I had taken two semesters of formal Arabic, and had begun focusing my graduate research on the MENA region. All of my field experience had taken place in Latin America, and I felt it was time to break into a new region. Aware that large amounts of foreign aid flow into Palestine, I arrived in Ramallah with only a list of organizations operating in the area and a handful of contacts. Upon arriving, I literally knocked on the doors of international organizations and introduced myself - “Hi, I’m talented, free labor.” The International Youth Foundation quickly took me up on my offer, and I ended up with an internship related to my concentration in economic development.

I had hoped this summer would be a great learning experience in terms of my career. And while there is that, what I did not see coming is the amount of information I’m internalizing in regards to this half-century-old conflict. It is everywhere and in everything, permeating, often silently, the smallest pieces of every day life in the West Bank. Like many foreigners that stay awhile in these parts, the Israeli occupation and its injustices have consumed much of my thought and energy. Understanding all of its nuances has become the central force of my stay here. For my fairly regular thoughts on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, you can read my blog: http://journalingajourney.blogspot.com/

I consider myself lucky to have an internship that keeps me busy. I’m on my third international internship and they haven’t always been fulfilling. I’m conducting qualitative research on young entrepreneurs in Palestine; listening to young people share their stories of success has been an emotional lifesaver amid a backdrop of depressing realities.

My research is shaping me, as well. I’m increasingly considering tackling development strictly through a business angle. I see so much value in employing people - providing jobs - thereby giving people a sense of purpose and the tools they need to conduct their lives as they see fit, while also stimulating the local economy. In the West Bank, aid often does a lot more harm than good, and, as is, is indisputably detrimental to the economy. Truth is, the best “aid” the U.S. could give to Palestine would be to stop aid to Israel, or to stop politically supporting the occupation. Palestine’s economic development is impossible as long as the occupation continues.

I have no idea how this summer will shape my future, but I’ll certainly return to D.C. with improved Arabic language skills and a connection to this part of the world and this conflict. That’s the beauty of the lifestyle I’ve, we’ve, chosen, alhamdulillah.

Jessi