Rob, another student on the program, and I were talking the other day about how, frequently, when people discuss ways in which they have helped others, their rhetoric comes pre-filtered through a kind of "holier than thou" logic bolstered by a "Save the Children" mentality. Unfortunately, this kind of talk dominates the popular discourse on social action and I think, ultimately, might discourage people from getting involved in work that will truly contribute to sustainable betterment of our world. For one, nascent volunteers must grapple with the fear that they are pre-destined to be perpetually outranked in the perverse points system that seems to have developed around the concept of helping others (I am reminded here of an Ani DiFranco song where she sings "What kind of scale compares the weight of two beauties?". Limiting ourselves by pitting incomparable attempts to better the lives of others against each other and ranking their impact, we are deprived of the big picture, where every action to improve the lives of others, be it small or large/local or global/immediate or long lasting, matters simply because it happened in the first place and not for its social significance nor for the rewards or recognition it might bring to the individual or group providing aid). In addition, this logic implies that some people know better than others what defines a "good" quality of life and I am not in the business of telling people what to do (or, I'm trying not to be. Bossiness is a hard quality to shake!)

I mention all of this because I want to make a conscious effort, in both my real life and my writing, to be neither this self praising type of person nor a volunteer with ulterior motives. Transparency it is then! To be perfectly honest , the need I feel to reach out to others stems from a rather selfish standpoint. I do not like the way that I feel when I see other people suffering. If I was ever in peril, I would want someone to reach out to my family and me, and when I try to shed of myself and imagine what it would be like if I was someone else, for example a child affected by Agent Orange, I am not satisfied at all with what that reality, with the facilities and care available at present for these individuals, would entail. This might not be the answer that the people who congratulate me for my "selflessness" want to hear, but I think it is the most honest answer I can muster. Thus, I declare a moratorium on undeserved kudos such as "you are out there saving the world!" because I am not trying to. Instead, I prefer to think that I am merely one of MANY trying to burst out of our isolated bubbles of self to forge meaningful connections with other human beings so that maybe we all can learn from each other how to save ourselves. In the end, we are all fumbling through life together, and whether we choose to recognize the power that can be derived from this interconnectedness or not, I myself would rather embrace the ample company we have been blessed with as members of this strange race than wake up one morning only to realize that I am old and lonely!

I think that the weekly home visits we make to families with children suffering from severe disabilities, some caused by exposure to dioxin (also known as "Agent Orange"), are perhaps the most important, if not the most difficult, work that we do here because it challenges notions of human-ness that we have been taught and conditioned to accept. If someone looks different, acts different, or perceives reality differently than I do, are we truly similar to each other on a fundamental level? The answer I have come to time and time again is a resounding YES, an answer I have garnered from both the actions and words of the children themselves (when they are able to speak) and from the unconditional love and support given by their parents. While I wish that we could spend more time with each family, I am glad to have the opportunity to gain at least a little insight into how people manage to cope with difficult situations. Although life for these families often proves to be an unrelenting struggle, with every home visit we go on,I encounter individuals, people who will most likely never receive public recognition for the sacrifices they have made, who continue to persevere.

(As soon as I can, I will try to start posting pictures of the families and children we meet on our Agent Orange home visits. I find that, so often, I am too consumed by asking questions to remember to take out my camera! However, as my mom and her co-worker, Dan Derby, were here earlier this week, I should be able to get some good pictures from the two of them!While part of me feels a little odd about the way that pictures of these children, some of which may be fairly shocking, will look sandwiched between images of all of the good food I am eating and wonderful friends I am making, I think that it is imperative that all of my readers SEE every aspect of life as it truly is in Vietnam.)