Thursday, May 21, 2009

Witnessing = Responsibility

In the work I've done through the years, I've always been aware of the privilege I have to witness certain things in life usually hidden from large swaths of my peer group. The privilege of walking alongside men, women and children challenged by incredible life circumstances is humbling. I have always believed that everything I have witnessed has given me a responsibility...a responsibility not just to change myself or be personally inspired, but to be an interpreter to the larger world of these unique and humbling experiences.

Whether it is the daily victories of staying clean and sober celebrated by the crack addicted inner-city mother, or the more visible heroic efforts of Gail Johnson's Nkosi's Haven or Veronica Kgabo's Diepsloot School...all of these experiences bring with them a responsibility to share, reflect and interpret them to the larger world.

At one point in my travels to South Africa, I was unexpectedly brought into the sickroom of a woman struggling with HIV. As I sat on a low bench beside her mattress on the floor, I, the uninvited guest, was overwhelmed by my role as witness.

Mama, wrapped in tattered blankets, poured out her story of death and illness. Her youngest granddaughter had died the day before...just 6 months old. Her husband, sister, daughter, brother, son and another grandchild had all passed away within the previous 9 months. The woman interpreting all this from the end of the bed was explaining how she herself is no longer taking her ARV medications in order to have money for food for this ever diminishing household.

The interpreter told me I could take a photo. The mama wouldn't mind.

But I did. I minded being there, like a spectator or a tourist invited to take photos of the "natives". I minded my role -- like some kind of parasite feeding off of the human suffering of others.

But I had not asked to come there. I didn't even know where I was being taken when I walked in the home.

And so I witnessed a tragedy not so many people in my world ever see. And witnessing this very uncomfortable and tragic reality gave me a responsibility. A responsibility to tell you this heartrending story. A responsibility to bring you to that low bench in the dimly lit room with a fully realized woman not that much different than myself, pouring out her story to a stranger. I have to believe I was brought to witness her story just for this reason. For the reason that I would share this with you.

And now, it is your turn to take the role of witness seriously. It is your turn to be responsible with her story.

Witness the reality. Share the responsibility.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Pictures and Videos Speak Louder than My Words!


I wanted to try and capture some of the experience Zoleka and I had yesterday at both Tsogang Sechaba and Nkosi's Haven, and thought my own words could never be as powerful of the words of the Net Buddies themselves.

I hope that you are as moved and inspired by the relationships described by the children of Infinite Family as I am. I return from South Africa with Christina's words in my heart.

"Remember," Christina said to all the newly trained Net Buddies at Nkosi's Haven, "Infinite Family has a special name. Infinite means that something goes on forever. Infinite Family means that this is a family that reaches everywhere and our goes on forever. Our Infinite Family will not end."

With your support, we can make Christina's statement a promise. Infinite Family needs mentors, partners, financial supporters and friends. Let us know how Infinite Family has captured your imagination and heart by contacting me at dana.gold@infinitefamily.org.

As always, the Gift is YOU!


Tuesday, May 12, 2009

An Homage to the Dead

Every day, in common conversation, you hear people talking about the dead.

So many die. So many are sick. I stop myself from asking, "Why did she die?". The answer is painfully obvious.

A few of the Net Buddies gather to look at photos of themselves and their friends on my computer. I ask, "How is Boitumelo?". The children look down. I ask, "Where is Thabo?" The children look away. I don't need to ask why.

The sudden quiet, the turning of the head, the staring at the wall...that is the answer to my question.

HIV/AIDS is so pervasive. So many are sick. So many die.

The millions of dead are a silent explosion. The HIV/AIDS pandemic is a bomb-burst of trauma. It is an all pervasive, threatening specter of disease that eclipses the children's current happiness as well as their hoped-for futures.

So, I stop myself from asking.

The silence we share is an homage to the dead.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Looking up

As we left Realogile High School this evening, we haltingly made our way through the streets of Alexandra.

It is an amazing thing to be a small piece of this vibrant, cheek-to-jowl crowded, desperately poor, bustling, entrepreneurial community. Alex has half a million people jammed into a 20 square block area. There is barely space to breathe between the dwellings, shops and sidewalk vendor's stalls in this densely packed township. People spill out from the sidewalks into the streets, competing with the incessantly honking taxis that drive with great impunity through the narrow streets of Alex.

There is no room at all, anywhere...unless you look up.

Structures reach no higher than a man can stand. Homes are constructed from whatever can be found...preferably corrugated metal...but anything that can define a boundary of in and out and keep the strangers and the weather at bay is suitable building material.

But looking up...up past the haphazard network of wires and antennas that weave across the low-slung rooftops...you see sky. You see sun. You see the energy of the scuttling clouds. You see the approach of a storm. You see the bigger forces of nature.

Looking up you see possibility. You see unmarred sunsets. You see the glow of sunrise. You see the beauty of open space.

Open space to dream. To see beyond where you have been planted.

The sky is the limit, it is said.

And for the children of Alex, I would like to believe that is so.

The sky above their heads, the unsullied, uncrowded space of open possibility...space to dream. Space to try new things. Space to dare new things. The space to grasp possibility.

These children of Alex need adults to help them. Adults who will give these children space and time in their own lives.

Infinite Family mentoring sessions are only half hour a week. That kind of space in your life can encourage a child to look up past the overwhelming poverty that surrounds them to see new possibility for themselves, their communities and their country.

If you think that you can make that kind of space available in your life, let me know at dana.gold@infinitefamily.org.

Thanks for reading! Your comments are encouraging!

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Mother's Day at Nkosi's Haven


Today, when we rolled through the gate at Nkosi's Haven, the kids welcomed Zoleka and I with hugs which quickly transitioned into urgent tugs on our hands. "Come this way! Come in here! We've prepared a special breakfast for all the mother's on Mother's Day".

Zo and I made our way through the kitchen where toast was popping, dishes were clanging and excited voices urged us forward into the main living room.

As we rounded the corner, we found the room festooned with balloons and handmade signs, and a table set with white linens. Encircling the table were four beaming mama's. They made room for us as they finished their first course of today's menu: corn flakes and milk!

Next came plates heaping with scrambled eggs, 3 slices of thickly buttered toast and stewed tomatoes. We had tea and jam. We had a specially picked play list of musical selections. We were treated like queens.

Then four children came in and quickly handed Zodwa, one of the mama's, a handmade card. As we passed the simple card around the table, each face was brushed with a tear as we each read the neatly crafted, colorful message of love from the children of Nkosi's Haven.

No sad things today. Just the realization that the legacy of Nkosi Johnson and the mission of Gail Johnson has been realized.

Nkosi, before he died at age 12 in a speech to the UN said:
"Because I was separated from my mother at an early age, because we were both HIV positive, my mommy Gail and I have always wanted to start a care centre for HIV/Aids mothers and their children."

Nkosi's Haven was created so that "more infected mothers can stay together with their children - they mustn't be separated from their children so they can be together and live longer with the love that they need."

I'd say Mother's Day 2009 would demonstrate that this special dream has touched the lives of Zodwa, Busi, Ruth, Grace, Melita and many, many other Moms and children.

What a wonder to be able to be part of it all!

Read more about Nkosi Johnson and Nkosi's Haven at http://www.nkosishaven.co.za/

Saturday, May 9, 2009

One of my favorite places in the world...


Every time I pull up to the gated, brightly painted entrance of Nkosi's Haven, I am amazed at the cheerful visage it fronts to the rough and tumble streets of Berea. But then I ask myself, "Why should I be surprised? What I see on the outside reflects the insides of this special place."

You can't walk five steps without tripping over a curioius toddler or being enwrapped in the shy smile of young one. The warren of pathways that runs through the three structures that house over 75 children and mothers struggling with HIV/AIDS always yields another glowing face, another warm embrace.

The women and children of Nkosi's Haven are very blessed with this family atmosphere, the abundant food, the medical care and good schooling. They are cared for and they know it.

The stories beneath the surface trickle out in halting cadences.

Liba, the oldest of a family of refugee children, who somehow found her way at 14 across the border from Zimbabwe, all the way to Johannesburg.

Ayanda, who had cared for each of his parents as they grew sick and passed away, eventually left to care for his little brother in an abandoned building in Jo'burg.

Z. who was raped by her step-father and who has been HIV+ since age 12.

The stories of tragedy run barely beneath the surface of this bustling, noisy home.

Where is the place where these painful stories are shared? Where healing takes place?

Each Net Buddy stands eagerly outside the computer room, waiting for their little dose of someone special. The person who cares for them so much that they extend themselves across the globe to "be there" through the pangs and joys of growing up.

Liba signs on to our video conferencing platform 10 minutes early, decorating the white board with Mother's Day messages and pretty designs.

Koketso relunctantly leaves her Net Buddy, waving in front of the camera with tears in her eyes as their half hour video conference ends.

These relationships are steadfast and enduring. Meaningful and deep.

And as I came in the gate of Nkosi's Haven today, a dozen 10 year olds milled about outside the computer room...having waited for this day for more than a year. Today, I was coming to teach them how to use the computer, share with them the story of Infinite Family...and give them the gift of mentorship.

What a humbling thing, to be responsible for something that these children so eagerly desire.

What a humbling thing, to be the person these children so eagerly look forward to seeing each week. What a wondrous thing to be a mentor with Infinite Family!

Friday, May 8, 2009

Traveling the World in a Mentor's Heart



As Zoleka and I make our way through the jigsaw of courtyards and pathways that puzzle themselves together into the external space of Realogile High School in Alexandra, I comment to her that every time I come to visit, it is never quiet. Every time I walk the pathways to Infinite Family's little computer center nestled in a corner of this bustling High School, I find children kicking balls, tumbling over one another, hanging around the sidewalks and generally doing everything but sitting in classrooms quietly learning.

Zoleka chuckles...no quick interpretation...just a chuckle.

Then, a bit later, as I stand in a crowded room full of inquisitive faces, and listen to the more seasoned Net Buddies share their experience with Infinite Family, I witness passionate and emphatic testimonials...all in Zulu. The kids are pouring out their hearts and I am desperate to understand! I turn to Zoleka once again, hoping for a quick interpretation.

Zoleka smiles, motions for me to wait. No quick interpretation.

I struggle to pick up one word here and there. A few familiar phrases jump out of the flow: "Advice" I hear. "Improve english", I decipher. "Computers", "VC", "special friend", "share secrets". I begin to think that I don't need to hear every word to know that the children are loving their time with the video mentors of Infinite Family.

But then I hear a few strange words thrown in there. "India". "Many countries". Hmmm? What is Phillip talking about?

This time, Zoleka is quick with an interpretion.

One of our Net Buddies, Phillip, claims that he is traveling the world in his mentors heart. Phillip's life travels have been defined and limited by the boundaries of his little corner of Alexandria. Phillip, a boy who in all his 15 years has rarely ventured past the garbage strewn streets filled with tooting cars, blaring radios, running children and tiny storefronts claims he has now been to India.

Phillip stands before his peers and claims, "I have been with Paul to India, to Germany, to America. I have been with Paul in all his travels because I know that Paul carries me in his heart wherever he goes, every moment of every day."

The quick interpretation? Mentoring through Infinite Family works!

Come join us! To learn more, visit our website: www.infinitefamily.org

Thursday, May 7, 2009

The Power of a Well Placed "NO"!

Today I had the privilege of meeting Veronica Kgabo, principal and founder of Diepsloot Combined School. Veronica had a vision of quality education for the children of the rough and tumble, sprawling Diepsloot area. Veronica's vision took root on an arid, stony 2 acres of land less than 6 years ago. She has nurtured that vision into a lively, cheerful place crowded with tiny, prefab structures and scarred shipping containers that were transformed into classrooms where young minds are ignited with new ideas and children are challenged with the highest of educational standards.

Veronica is a saavy woman...saavy enough to say "no, thank you" as often as she says "yes, thank you." And after this afternoon in her presence, I would offer a guess that it is saying "no" as often as she says "yes" which has made her vision flourish and grow.

When Veronica took her small staff to a rubbish heap that surrounded the school grounds on 2 sides, she swept her arm across the expanse of nasty and proclaimed it would now be their new soccer field. When mothers and fathers of her students came and offered to sort through the rubbish, Veronica said, "yes, thank you." When the church across the way offered assistance with leveling the field, Veronica said "yes, thank you." But when she was offered a tractor for maintaining the field and cutting the grass, Veronica said "no".

Veronica said, "How can I take care of a tractor?" Where will the money come for fuel? No tractor, thank you. But if you would like to keep the tractor and use it here every month, I will be happy for you to do that. But please,a tractor would be a burden, not a blessing."

And when a donor very generously said, "I would like to give you computers.", Veronica again said "no". "How will I maintain computers? And how will I keep them updated? For I know that once they are here, problems will arise and you will not be here to fix them."

But when, another donor, Rentworks, arrived and offered to give Veronica's school 62 computers, they also offered to come every 2 weeks to maintain and update them. And when these computers and the active and ongoing participation of the donor was secured, Veronica said, "yes, thanks"!

Saying no is a problem for those of us in the asking business. It is often difficult to turn down the generous offers of donors, no matter how ill-fitting the gift might feel. For the wrong gift can become a burden to an organization, slowing the development toward goals and the realization of a mission.

Veronica's vision has been solidified with her no-saying as well as her many yes's, as she has taken the school from 180 students to 1800 in less than six years.

Today, I learned from Veronica Kgabo the power of a well placed "NO". I hope I will employ that little word with as much positive force as she has at Diepsloot Combined.

And by the way, Veronica Kgabo said "yes, please!" to a partnership with Infinite Family. We will be lucky to have such a wise partner who will teach us much as we walk this road together.

I'm so glad we weren't given a well placed "no"! Thank you, Veronica Kgabo!

Friday, May 1, 2009

Infinite Family featured on The Glass Hammer!

Hi Everyone,

We got first page, top of the fold position in today’s article on Infinite Family in The Glass Hammer (www.theglasshammer.com).

Thanks to Cheryl Pollard and Barbara Draimin for being such wonderful examples of Infinite Family volunteer mentors!

Pass it on!

d.