April 2009 - Feature Article

Building Communities Through Partnership and Collaboration

by Marty Mako 1

“With the right words you can change the world.”

I haven’t read Charlotte’s Web for many, many years. But I will never forget Charlotte, the heroic spider, delivering that powerful message to Wilbur, the runty pig, on Zuckerman’s farm.

Engaging and emotional stories have the power to teach us things that facts, figures, and pie charts simply cannot. And since I believe storytelling is one of the most powerful ways to bring new and creative ideas into the world, I would like to begin this article with a story — a true story, as it was told to me by a community member in a small village in rural Kenya, where I volunteered this past summer with the charity, Free The Children.

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a primary school called Enelerai. The boys and girls there led a simple life, but were very happy. They didn’t have a lot of material things or fancy toys to play with, but they had no problem creating their own fun by singing and dancing and playing outside with their friends.

Picture of old rundown schoolhouse in Kenya.

One of the buildings they used as a classroom at the school was made of packed mud and sticks, and was in serious need of repair after many seasons of heavy rain and hot sunshine. One day, a group of strangers from a foreign land visited the school. They noticed the classroom and decided they wanted to do something to help. So they went back to their home, raised enough money for a new building, came back to Enelerai a year later, and built the new classroom. And what a beautiful classroom it was — made with the best building materials that money could buy!

Picture of newly built schoolhouse in Kenya.

But the strangers were very busy people, you see, and they could only stay for a few weeks in the foreign land before they had to leave again. So during their final visit, the strangers were offered smiles and thanks from the teachers while the students performed a traditional Kenyan song and dance. Many pictures were taken standing in front of the perfect new classroom.

As they were parting ways, one of the strangers looked back over his shoulder and saw a group of little boys smiling, waving and holding a soccer ball made of plastic grocery bags and elastic bands. So he too smiled and waved as they drove off, all the while quietly wishing he had more time, time to run back to the school and join in the soccer game with those smiling boys. The End.

Now at first you might think this story had a happy ending. After all, the school got a new classroom, the strangers felt good by doing something to help those less fortunate — everyone lived happily ever after, right? Well the truth is that the local community has never used the new classroom. Not once. It sits vacant and empty, an eerie, ghost-like structure on the school compound. And why do you think that is?

There is a lesson here that could easily apply to some of our current local issues as well as our approach to foreign policy: It takes time to really get to know a community. It takes time to learn people’s names, to learn about their wants and needs, their strengths and struggles, their successes and failures, their hopes and dreams. It takes time to show that you really care.

But the investment of your time is definitely worth the effort in the long run, because that is how you earn trust and long-term support. This is how you build and sustain relationships. I believe that in this story, the strangers sincerely wanted to help, but sadly they didn’t take the time in the beginning to build a solid trusting relationship with the local community. It shouldn’t be too surprising that the local people took no ownership or pride in the new classroom upon its completion, regardless of its material quality.

It has been my experience while attempting to develop communities (both locally and abroad) that despite financial hardships, most people are still proud of their village, town, city, etc. and want to make it a better place. But more often than not, they want to be actively engaged and included in potential solutions — not just thought of as part of the problem that needs fixing.

Oh, I almost forgot one last important part of the story! When asked why they continue to use the old classroom that is leaking and full of holes rather than the new one, the principal’s answer was simple, yet profound: “Because WE built that building, and it was built with love. When you look at it today you may only see broken sticks and mud, but a long time ago our elders took great pride in building that classroom from scratch, when there was no school here at all.”

Moral of the story: If you wish to go quickly, go alone. If you wish to go far, go together.

 

 

1  Marty Mako is Secretary of OPHA’s Board of Directors and a Health Promoter in Niagara region. This article was first published in the St. Catharines Standard as Marty’s inaugural contribution to the column, Niagara Voices.