Lions, Zebras, and African Children: Voluntourism in the Age of Social Media
I never meant to make anybody cry. I wanted the students at the small high school in Brooklyn to question themselves and the institutions that they are a part of, but I didn’t want to make them cry.
Soon after walking off stage, a teacher pulled me aside to let me know that one of his students had left in tears. I gave him my email and offered to talk to her, knowing that I was probably the last person she wanted to see.
Over the next 24 hours, I pieced together that she’d worked in Africa; she’d done trips and created service projects, she’d been on the cover of magazines and received awards. She’d just gotten into a top tier college that rejected me, and there she was having an existential crisis at 17 in the middle of a crowded auditorium. They must have felt like bullets, the words that I was spraying out into the crowd about zebras, lions, international aid, volunteer work, and impoverished African children.
She hadn’t been warned that I was coming, and I was not told that she was there. Had I known, I would have started with a disclaimer – “Hi there, my name is Pippa and if you do international volunteer work I’m about to crush your world. Feeling shitty after? Come talk to me.”
The school called her parents before she went home to warn them. I hear that they weren’t too happy with what, as a peeved teacher who hadn’t been present but felt strongly put it, “I’d done to her.”
My speech had been about my opinions on voluntourism. This time I’d done my research and padded it out with facts. Like how 88% of the 1.1 million Americans who volunteer abroad each year are white, or how 1 in 3 comes from a household that makes at least twice the average American income.
It was probably the guiding imagery I used, not the facts, which hurt her. The thousands of Facebook albums full of pictures of lions, zebras, and African (or Asian, or South American, etc.) babies, the young children reduced down to a prop to hold hands with or perch on your hip for a developing world photo shoot. Pictures to be uploaded upon return.
I imagined a scenario, fictional but oh so plausible, in which that young person in the photo puts down the baby with the distended belly and reaches into her backpack for a packet of peanut butter because lunch was basic and haven’t these people ever heard of protein? Maybe they’ll have chicken at dinner. As she squeezes the peanut butter into her mouth flies descend on the child’s face.
The truth is, I have some of those photos. Photos of me with three or more young children on my lap smiling for the camera. Most of the one’s from Tanzania I have taken off of social media, finally accepting that when you don’t even know the other subjects names the shared stage of your Facebook profile picture becomes an altar to the commodification of poverty. You might as well tag them “African Child 1-3.”
The photos I removed are, to just about everyone who doesn’t work with me, indistinguishable in nature from those that remain on my Facebook profile. The composition is the same. Me seated or standing, surrounded by small children. The difference? These children I know. These children I have lived with, learned from, and watched grow up for years. Yes, I rarely go back to the Dominican Republic anymore, but my love for the kids we serve is unchanged.
To the untrained eye, the pictures from Tanzania and the DR and interchangeable, but I like to think that my campers held me a little tighter, hugged me a little closer, and know that they were never props.
At the end of my speech I encouraged the high school students to travel. I told them to go with an open heart, helper’s hands, and to have the first thing they ask be “What do you need?” rather than “Where can I put this thing that I’ve decided you must want?” I don’t know if the girl was gone by then, but I don’t think it would have made a difference. The icky feeling that we get inside when our most basic values are questioned had boiled over.
The next day, I helped lead a White Affinity Group at the school. They hadn’t heard about the incident but one of two students had read my article. We had a tough discussion fueled by frustration at being there in the first place. While we were cleaning up, three of the kids, one of whom had all but refused to participate, came back into the room. They wanted to thank me for challenging them, pushing them, but more than anything listening to them. They want me to speak at the middle school. I wonder what their parents might think.
In a few weeks, I’ll be returning to the small Brooklyn school to lead a follow-up discussion with students. I am sure that they have a lot of questions. In an effort to use social media for good, and recognizing that my point of view is controversial, I encourage readers to post the questions that they might have about my experiences and/or opinions as comments on this piece. In the coming weeks I will answer as many of them as I can.
Good for you Pippa. That is the real world. Kids are wrapped in cotton wool and sugar-coated all too often. Yes, it was probably a shock. But maybe they learnt more in that presentation than the prior days, weeks or months even. You’ve shown them by example to have freedom of thought, analytical criticism backed with evidence, and the very important ability to courageously admit you were wrong yourself and why. Bravo. When we cry, we’re open and vulnerable, and that’s probably when we grow our most.
You make some very valid points and it is great that you are making an effort to share your experience and reflections, and more importantly to act on them. Probably worth reflecting though, are you spending too much energy telling people what not to do and not enough presenting alternative ways? The reason this has upset this girl so much is because the carpet has been pulled out and there is a void below. (Granted it may not have helped she didn’t stay until the end).
It is always easier to be a naysayer than a trail blazer, you know that already and you can be lauded for working hard on the latter. However, she is one of the ones who has energy and enthusiasm and doesn’t want to accept the world for what it is. In marshall arts, small fighters conquer larger ones by working with their opponents strength and the direction of their force. If they tried to fight against it then they would lose. Perhaps you should reconsider how you can use the energy and enthusiasm already in evidence and show other channels and outlets for it first. Bare in mind you benefited from the opportunity to come to your conclusions through your own experience.
[…] readers to post the questions that they might have about my experiences and/or opinions as comments on my website. In the coming weeks I will answer as many of them as I […]
True dat – “When you don’t even know the other subjects names the shared stage of your Facebook profile picture becomes an altar to the commodification of poverty.”
Pippa – I applaud you – i am all too aware that people listen to negatives first – the positives – ie the alternatives as Joanna suggests will come ( I humbly suggest) when you have a large enough audience – those of us that campaign for change in this market sector bedevilled by bad practice know that the negatives are “sexy” so those will always need to be our calling card – then we can quietly and determindley offer the positive alternatives – they are there – few and far between but they do exist!
Great delivery. Sound arguments. Keep up the good work.
I liked this article, but is it just me or do you sound like you’re mad at that girl for crying?
Excellent writing. I’m planning on visiting Africa next year, probably between 2-3 months. I’ll be volunteering, teaching English. I’m doing it for them, for myself, I’d like a challenge. Teaching more than 50 in a class, for example. The thing is, I know how to teach. I might not have a degree but I have almost 2 years of TEFL experience.
I’m completely ARRRGGH about the whole voluntourism debate. I know in my heart I agree with you completely. Especially about the photographs, sharing them on Facebook, not knowing the kids names.
But I want to really know the community and the children. I guess that needs longer than a couple of months. In fact, I’ve been in Maldives for almost 9 months and only just started to “know the community”. Sigh. I don’t want my being there to disrupt the children even more than they already are, with white’s coming and leaving their lives. Heck, by now they might even have lost all respect for anyone volunteering with them.
The thing I’m worried about most is the other volunteers that I’ll be based with. What if they are those people just wanting great photos to upload onto Facebook? Or worse, what if I turn into one of these people?
Sarah – I hate to poor cold water on your enthusiasm – and i want to congratulate you on taking the TEFL course – you sound like an intelligent questioning woman -are you working WITH a local teacher sharing your skills with them or replacing a local teacher?
oh and I forgot to say – any responsible organiosation should be able to tell you about any other volunteers that are there – and if they travel with the same organisation as you they should be putting you in touch with them – and previous volunteers
I don’t think you have done your research at all and haven’t a clue about the volunteer sector and its true value. Who are you to criticise someone giving up their time to save critically endangered sea turtles or a pensioner helping out at the local Oxfam shop? It is interesting you are on the board of a tourism business. I suppose you wouldn’t have a problem if a white person from an affluent household signs-up for one of your trips? There are some great projects out there and you are doing them a great disservice with your arrogant and misguided opinions on voluntourism.
The title alone makes me not want to read this…Lions, Zebras and African children?!!! Really???!! If you do not see the insensitivity and veiled racism in that title then please stay out of black and brown countries. We don’t need you to save us…the ‘white fake liberal martyr’ in third world country role is outdated and creates more problems than it solves.
Hi there,
I rarely respond to comments, but I’d like to encourage you to read the piece. It actually speaks to exactly what you are talking about and the racism inherent in the use of children as props in the developing world.
Cheers,
Pippa