Hugabugga

I’m still learning how to help — how to help others, how to help myself. It’s not a painful course in the school of life, just a continual one. I used to think of myself as a Chef, or an artist… but I don’t identify with those titles anymore, they’re just bodies of knowledge, placeholders of time and space, not an identity. I’ve had 3 brushes with death in the last decade or so, and what has come out of that is … that I’m clueless. I have no legacy. I’m just bumbling around like everyone else, and all my past surety, the arrogance of my profession, it’s gone. My career is over, my art is pretty but has no great meaning, per se. As a parent I was alright, but not amazing…

so what am I leaving behind?

What has my effect been?

Perhaps it’s a foolish question anyway. What is gained by it? What is lost? If we are looking backwards we are not present, if we are dreaming of some future impact the effect is much the same. I’ve given up on most of these tasks, all I know is, I want to leave the world a better place, I want to have, in the end, a net positive effect.

So, I cannot answer the big questions. But I do know that somehow this practice of child sponsorship has kept me dedicated enough to maintain a tiny business to pay for the sponsorships, to write the letters, to package up and send books & art supplies, to share my hope with these children that a better life is possible. And I don’t mean in some western lifestyle, I mean in being true to yourself, in finding hope in terrible situations, even if I am in no way qualified to show that to others. What do I know? We’ve pretty much established that the answer is, “nothing.” But I do know this— kids and families need someone to believe in them, to root for them. I know that sponsorship makes a difference, I’ve seen it in action. I also know that sponsorship is not a magic wand, some kids still fall through the cracks. All we can do is try, so I keep trying.

These kids are from the bottom 1% of the world, they live in deep poverty. The kind its almost impossible to climb out of, the kind that crushes dreams, potential, and lives, the kind of poverty that grinds you down. I try to pay for things like school fees, uniforms, learning toys, books… anything to help their mind grow, to give them a glimpse into another world, in exchange for the one they give me. It is an always a joyful moment to open a letter and find a child smiling, it always brightens my day.

But this has primarily been a solitary journey, I don’t have many people to share the happy moments with, or discuss the intricacies of sponsorship with, or -definitely- anyone who’s interested in digging deep into the cause and effects of poverty, sponsorship, what works, what doesn’t… I admit I’m a total nerd, and I don’t mind that my interests aren’t for everyone, but it would be cool to meet a few like minded folks, or, at least, keep a diary of this experience, the discoveries, and the ups and downs. And so, this small blog, written on a platform I can barely navigate, as a hope for connection and community, or at least something to look back upon when needed.

Thank you for joining me, Kye