We Peace Corps volunteers have a definite sense of superiority over other non-host country nationals such as: long term expats living in big cities, travelers who're around for a few weeks, other Peace Corps vols who seem to have "an easier service" (the dreaded Posh Corps title,) and especially young, short term volunteers.
Why sugar coat it?
It's not that we don't understand the drive, respect the efforts, and appreciate the intent; it's that we commit years to living in villages--trying our damnedest to integrate into the lifestyle and community, we develop real relationships with real people hoping to fully see them, we understand failed development efforts and how they haunt the country, and we feel like we have a real stake in the future of Malawi. We take issue with reducing this country to its array of statistical problems, when we ourselves have witnessed the reality of a rural health center, or broken educational system and understand that it's so much more than that. It's more than "rampant AIDs," or "school drop outs," it's individuals we know and love dealing with the reality of their situations. Our experience as volunteers living in the community gives us a sense of holistic understanding and seems to grant us a touch more authenticity to our lives here. So yeah, there's a sense of ego, and I'm not going to say its wholly wrong and unwarranted, but I will say that it's definitely harmful, toxic, and makes us, well, assholes. 27 months isn't exactly anything to scoff at, but it's not like we're dedicating our lives to a sustainable impact and it's not like we will ever fully and truly integrate. In the end we're all transient, we've all got our own agendas, and we're all hoping to do a little good.
However, a struggle exists when trying to validate and affirm each other's experiences especially when we recognize ignorance, inappropriate cultural behavior, intolerance, or the grand offense of channeling the Lorax--giving a voice to, "the voiceless." Speaking for Africa, for Malawi, for your community, for anyone--or misrepresenting your impact, importance, and how grateful your community is for your presence, is undignified and shameful. These people are not voiceless or opinion-less. How dare we? And yet, sometimes I think that's all we do.
If there's one thing we can agree on from the volumes of recent articles outlining the decline of humanity due to the rise of millennials--it's probably our tendency to seek validation and approval via social media. And we can try and minimize its significance and our relationship with it, but in truth, it has become a very real part of our lives and way we interact with the world. Using social media, (aka sharing our experiences with people back home,) is loosely one of our goals as PCVs and one of the original three Peace Corps goals:
- To help the people of interested countries and areas in meeting their needs for trained workers
- To help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served
- To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans
That's good ol' fashioned cultural exchange, baby. Hell yes it's important. It humanizes a place and people that some would have otherwise written it off as hopeless. Or maybe it opens a person's eyes to different issues and struggles half a world away. It's educational, it's a reminder to look outside of ourselves, our experiences, and maybe critically think about the world around us.
As millennials we've mastered the art of making social media appealing for our audiences, and have spent years forming our perfect personas. Something that says, "my life is rad, beautiful, and full." Usually the editing time on our photographs or Facebook posts takes triple the amount of time we spent enjoying the captured moment itself. If we've mastered anything in our 19 months in Malawi, it's how to post the perfect Peace Corps selfie. It goes a little something like this:
PCV, totally rocking the village chic attire, maybe messy, flyaway hair, or a bit of dirt smudged on her forehead, smiling, African baby tied to her back in a chitenje, surrounded by the group of Malawians on which she just imparted some amazing new skills and knowledge--or a group of smiling African children, as the sun is setting on the mountains in the background--the post details how humbled she is by her beautiful life in Malawi.
Golden right? ^ guaranteed likes and comments such as, how she is a hero, an inspiration, how the commenter himself could never do what she's doing, how she is a beautiful person inside and out, how lucky Malawi is to have her...etc.
Sound painfully familiar?
These posts flood my Facebook newsfeed, sometimes they're my posts. PCVs are the masters of the humble brag. "I'm saving the world, and getting work done," he said solemnly, and in flowery language.
On the flip side, I read too many authoritative posts about Malawians, transport, animals, disease, food, experiences--whatever, which explicitly state an opinion presented as an indisuptable truth about Malawi. Few things in life have ever made me jump into the devil's advocate role faster and with more vigor, even if I agree with the original statement. Because, don't.
And this is where that sense of superiority gets me. The perspectives of expats living only in cities, or talking to volunteers who will only experience Malawi for a few months is often offensive or anger inducing because there seems to be a fundamental lack of understanding. It seems like the absolute embodiment of white savior complex and all the things we hate about it. And yes, we as PCVs have an experience unique to our program, but often the way we represent Malawi is also one dimensional--and usually self-serving. And while we're great at observing it in others and judging them for it, but what about ourselves?
The most humiliating and guilt-ridden aspects of volunteering often aren't those moments where you've made a huge faux pas, been culturally inappropriate, or when you're an absolute spectacle. Instead, for me they consist of two things, realizing your privilege and how you've been using it unintentionally--or
any interaction with white savior complex.
I'm not feeling like writing a spiel about WSC but feel free to google it, it's a thing and it's a shitty mixture of privilege, ignorance, good intention gone wrong, the goal to feel good about one's self over creating real change, perpetuating the idea that the global north can save the poor undeveloped world, not realizing that the systems of international development and foreign aid are deeply flawed, and poor execution. Few things have made me feel uncomfortable and dirty like kind and loving comments from family and friends who are unintentionally enforcing these ideas, while trying only to send love and support. Comments (like the fake ones I posted above^) unintentionally invalidate my reasons for being here, inflate my level of importance, and more than anything, take the focus from whatever I'm trying to accomplish and place it on me. It heaves grandiose idealism and pure intentions on my shoulders--let me be clear, we all have our own agendas. Of course it's because I'm loved, and people are proud, but after I try to explain, people just laugh it off and tell me that I'm being humble.
Nah, it's more damaging than that. We all should have a sense of social and moral obligation for one another. With ability should exist an innate responsibility to give back--but we struggle with that idea. Currently evidenced by issues like housing refugees or immigration in general. We shouldn't glorify anyone for acting humanely, and doing something out of simple decency, that should be the norm. Instead, we should identify root causes of issues, systematic oppression, and work together for solutions. Acting as though these issues are too big and insurmountable to ever be reconciled is the problem.
Our presence on social media can also be problematic. Should I be using it regularly? If so, how can I capture and present my life here in an authentic and dignified way? I take pictures with my kids, of sunsets, of the work that I'm doing. I'm constantly humbled by Malawi, constantly learning and falling in love with and breaking up with Malawi and I say these things on social media. Is this okay, or am I the problem?
Malawi, this experience--it's everything to me. This is my life, and I want the memories, I want to share my experiences, and I want people to see Malawi like I do, in all its beauty and tragedy. But, I'm certainly not a pro with all of this. It's been a learning experience for me.
Here's an example of using social media poorly and doing a piss poor job of representing myself and Malawi well. Using people, places, things of cultural importance as props.
Another poor example is this next photo. I was uncomfortable as the photo was taken, and feel stupid for going along with it at all. We were working in the recovery room at Operation Smile for people who've just come out of surgery. This was simply not appropriate. The photo is literally three white girls pose with the cool things they're doing in Africa, while they're actually doing nothing to help.
These are my horrifying examples of Peace Corps service gone wrong, my long learning process, and undignified interactions with host country nationals, and such terrible social media use. But that's not to say that I usually do such an embarrassingly bad job of interacting with Malawi--or social media.
This next post was a beautifully organic moment with my girls after they convinced me to go for a swim with them in the lake. These kids have become a huge part of my life and my service in Karonga--and some of my best friends. This will always be one of my favorite Malawi memories.
Both of these were moments I'm happy to have caught and saved. But it broaches the question, then where's the line? How do we avoid exploiting people and situations when taking photos and recounting stories? How do PCVs share and engage the world with integrity--in a way that doesn't fabricate a beautiful whimsical fairy tale, or brings the attention back to our cool ass lives? How do we continue our goal of accurately and fully representing these experiences without ego and pride?
I guess I don't really know, and as long as I'm not participating in anything that feels wrong, fabricated, or dehumanizing I'm not really worried about it. A friend recently revealed to me that he didn't like that I'd shared so many photos on my Facebook. I respect his opinions very much but it made me really contemplate how much I actually cared about how he felt. The answer is, very little. Whenever I decide to take a photo or share elements of my experience it's not with the intent to impress, I share things that are funny, surprising, things that get me down, or make me feel passionately and deeply. I post pictures of my friends, work, kids, the beach.. You know, it's just an extension of my life. Just a peek.
http://www.psmag.com/business-economics/instagrammingafrica-narcissism-global-voluntourism-83838
http://www.takepart.com/article/2014/07/22/why-wont-white-savior-complex-go-away
