A Humanitarian's Manual

"I can't think of any other way to describe how I feel interacting with others through community service besides with these four words: I absolutely love it. I'm you're not-so-average high school girl, because my inspiration comes from giving back to the world around me."

-Katie Chambers, embarrassing scholarship essay 2011

I found this quote from my 18-year-old self the other day while writing on my computer, watching the torrents of rain outside the small patio, making it more impossible to leave the house with each passing minute. I had just recovered from my first brush with dengue fever in El Salvador, and found myself very inspired to write and reflect on what had brought me here in the first place. That meant perusing further and further back through my words until before I knew it, I re-met this high school girl.

I reveled in the label of "humanitarian." Little did I know back then how broad and controversial this term actually is, nor how many layers it is made of. As I felt more than watched the rain pour down outside, I was hit with how much I had learned and transformed in just four short years. How did I get from dishing out tomato-basil bisque at a Sandpoint, Idaho soup kitchen to speaking a foreign language in the jungle of a rural country?

Humanitarianism comes with responsibility. This is the greatest lesson I've pulled from my college education and travels − you're not automatically put on the nice list for labeling yourself a volunteer. If you're not mindful of your service to the communities around you, you can actually do more harm as a humanitarian than good.

Whether you have ideas to get involved on a local level, volunteer abroad, or even start a nonprofit, here are the top three pieces of advice that have helped me graduate from my soup kitchen days to actually contributing to positive change in my surroundings:

Think from the Inside Out

Sometimes the answers we have aren't the answers that are needed.

I learned this lesson after driving three hours away from the towering mountains of Bozeman, Montana and into the rolling sea of Northern Cheyenne grasslands. We had left behind the grocery stores, gas stations, and almost all other signs of economic activity. As we drove farther into the reservation, the only other outsiders we saw were the truck drivers passing through on their way to bigger cities and a paycheck.

My research partner and I finally arrived at Little Big Horn College to meet with our mentor, Meredith. We had come to pick his brain and tribal wisdom for a class that collaborated with the Northern Cheyenne community on beneficial research topics. What work could we do for him that would actually be helpful to his community?

"You know, I'd really like some information on the Echinacea plant," he answered.

I watched all of the ideas I had come prepared with fly out the college cafeteria door. Echinacea? I thought. What about some lesson plans for the elementary school? Some local business ideas? Anything more tangible than information on a plant.

Where I wanted to shoot for bigger and more dynamic ideas for the reservation, Meredith was realistically thinking one step at a time while taking into consideration Northern Cheyenne values of life. Having rented out a plot of land abundant in native plants, Meredith hoped to teach the youth on the reservation how to identify these plants and remind them of their ancestral uses.

Although it hadn't been my first choice, I spent the rest of the semester preparing a report for Meredith comparing traditional uses of Echinacea to Western use. Our findings were surprisingly, well, cool: we found science to better verify Northern Cheyenne uses of the plant. Meredith was able to use our findings to work into his educational program on his land.

For the big picture innovators out there like me, I'm telling you now to slow down. Before acting on ideas that you think are the right ones, put yourself in the shoes of those who will be directly affected by your service. Consider that the values you hold important may not be the same values as those you are working with. Get to know your community inside and out, and by listening instead of leading. Begin to look through their eyes while working instead of your own.

Watch out for Paternalism

Already forgot this high school vocabulary word?

Paternalism can be defined as:

"Those in authority restricting the freedom and responsibilities of those subordinate to them in the subordinates' supposed best interest."

In other words, it's the thought that you are qualified to solve the problems of others, even more so than the others themselves. Paternalism often arises when working with vulnerable populations, such as children or impoverished communities.

I've spent the last three months working with a nonprofit in El Salvador (see side bar for more information), but I witnessed paternalism before coming to the Central American country. At a dinner party this summer, I all of a sudden found myself the center of attention as one by one, people stopped their side conversations to listen as I explained what kind of projects I would be working on in the Salvadoran community.

"Wow. That is so great you will be down there helping to show people how to do things they wouldn't know how to do themselves."

It was passed off as a harmless comment, meant as a compliment to me as the other party-goers nodded and muttered in agreement. However, it was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping. It was a very similar response to many I had experienced in my pre-departure conversations with friends and family. I realized how superior my society felt toward Latin America (half of them out there still think I'm in Ecuador- it's all the same, right?).

Did I snap back with an opinion? Lecture on my true intentions and philosophies? Get up and leave the dinner table?

No. I gave a small smile and shut up.

Paternalism is a trait you have to personally decide you want to eradicate. Trust me − there are many confident individuals out there who don't see the problem with believing they can best solve the world's issues. Watch out for this feeling of seemingly harmless superiority that exists within all of us − there is no better or worse population out there than another. Lower yourself down from this pedestal (down 18-year-old humanitarians! Down!), get comfortable questioning your motives, and learn to listen to the cause instead of shouting over it.

Practice Solidarity

You see someone fallen on the ground. It looks like they've scraped their knee pretty well. Here are two possible scenarios:

1. You give the person a fully stocked first aid kit. You teach them how to use each piece of it, show them how to mend their wound, then continue on your way.

2. You help the person to clean their wound. You listen to them as they explained what happened and sit with them until they feel okay to get up. During your conversation, you discover how much you have in common (you both like beer) and decide to head off in the same direction (to a brewery).

Although both scenarios are helpful to the fallen person, the first embodies more the idea of charity. When you practice charity, you give with the purpose of aid, such as donating money to an organization and moving on. The second scenario embodies more the idea of solidarity: the unity of individuals as they support each other in a common cause.

This is my job in El Salvador, to practice solidarity (unlike my example, this sadly does not entail drinking any beer). I am an on-site representative of my organization. My sole role is to be present in a rural community and accompany Salvadoran locals. Yes, I help out wherever and whenever I can with various projects, but the most important work I do is simply being here.

Let me give you a heavy example.

The other day I sat beneath the shade of a grand canopy tree overlooking the rapidly-flowing Sumpul River. It would've been the perfect picnic spot had it not been for what lay beneath the earth.

“Everybody stop. We’ve hit a shoe.”

Shovels froze in mid-air as everyone looked in the direction of the archaeologist. The playful mood of mindless digging had changed in an instant. I could actually feel the heaviness of the air resting its weight on my shoulders as my compañeros' eyes darted into the hole they had created.

We were only an hour into the exhumation process, an hour into a moment anticipated by four years of bureaucratic preparation. All of the required officials were there: the human rights lawyer looking on, the archaeologist leading the dig, and the handful of police resting conspicuously away from the group under the shade of a tree. There was a journalist, a photographer, and the widowed owner of the land. The rest of us acted as manual labor and moral support for the brothers of the two bodies that had waited patiently to be discovered for 33 years.

This dig is only one of hundreds that are currently being conducted throughout the country. As citizen after citizen disappeared during the Salvadoran Civil War of the 80s, families were left without any closure that their loved ones had actually perished at the hands of the military government. The lengthy process of uncovering graves in search of these friends and family is still being carried out today.

As for me, I hadn’t picked up a shovel all day. I had helped a bit in the kitchen to prepare breakfast and lunch for the workers and policemen, but really spent most of the day watching in fascination as tons of dirt were lifted off of two skeletons, one shovel-full at a time. I passed out coffee. I talked with the men while they rested.

Solidarity is about being. Being there when someone needs you, and being a presence in our global world. It's that moment when you pull back from the head of the group to walk in step with your companions.

Sometimes, we don't always know what's best. Sometimes, listening is better than leading. And sometimes, not acting can be more beneficial than acting. You can't simply call yourself a humanitarian in a high school essay, although it might be a good start. Humanitarianism is mindfulness, and it's this mindfulness that above all creates change in our environments.

Use this manual as a set of guidelines for awareness of your thoughts and your actions. But above all, remember the responsibility we accept by being "do-gooders." It's the responsibility to be your own self-critic and monitor, which can be the key to whether any good is actually being done at all.

Even a teenager with the soup spoon can do that.

How many opportunities will you get in a lifetime to be accepted into a culture that's not your own? Yes, almost all of us have the opportunity to travel, see new places, and meet friends from all over the world, but unless you're planning on learning a new language and becoming an ex-pat, the chances to truly get to know a community are few and far.

US-El Salvador Sister Cities (USESSC) is a nonprofit organization that provides volunteers just this opportunity. Around for almost 30 years, USESSC formed during the Salvadoran Civil War as an organization to promote solidarity between the U.S. and El Salvador. They partner U.S. cities with their own "sister" Salvadoran communities. Tthere are currently 17 pairs of communities.

Opportunities through USESSC include:

-Internships in El Salvador for a minimum of three months. If you're proficient in Spanish and interested in writing, blogging, history, human rights or digital media, you might be the perfect fit.

-Employment as a USESSC coordinator. USESSC is searching for an individual fluent in Spanish with experience in nonprofit work who has lived in a Latin American country.

-Join a delegation to visit El Salvador yourself and learn about current issues.

For more information, visit www.elsalvadorsolidarity.org

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