Afterword

Just a few things in order to properly put an end to "A Guy in Kenya."

THANK YOU's are in order to the following:

1. The Clinton School of Public Service, for first of all accepting me as a student at their school and thus giving me the opportunity and means to do the important work I did this summer and to have the incredible experience of personal growth that it gave me. I am profoundly proud to call myself a "Student of Bill," and I have immense amount of gratitude to the school for the value they place on field service. I don't know of any other school in the country that essentially says to its students: "Here's some money - go out and do some good on the other side of the world." Their International Public Service Project has no match in higher education. Thank you Dean Rutherford and to Joe Ballard for organizing the IPSP program.

2. To Jim Cummings and Kijana Educational Empowerment Initiative, for partnering with me on my project and continuing to show me unlimited faith and support as I have continued to develop from a young man into a slightly older young man. I have now seen first-hand the amazing impact Kijana is having in Kenya, and if I wasn't already, I am certainly now your partner for life.

3. To Patrick, for taking the journey alongside me and trusting that Kijana was a worthwhile partner.

4. To the Kutai family, my Kenyan family, for showing me unlimited love, hospitality, and spreading their warm hearts to mine.

5. And to my American family, for their love and support and allowing me to travel off to distant lands for ten weeks. I'm lucky to have you all.


And lastly, thank YOU for joining on my journey this summer by reading along from where ever you are in the world. I was telling Patrick the other day that I'm glad I blogged this summer because I'll enjoy looking back on these entries in the years to come as if looking back on the pages of a journal. I've never been good at keeping a journal throughout my life, so I think what's made keeping a blog easier is the fact that I know I'm writing for an audience - people that can share in the journey with me. I guess I'm self-centered - I need people's attention to be motivated to write apparently. So thanks for joining me and giving me motivation to keep on writing - I've loved receiving comments and hearing shared ideas and experiences brought up from readers.

I'll close by asking you for one more thing. If you've enjoyed reading this blog, and have the means to do so, please consider making a donation to Kijana Educational Empowerment Initiative. You can visit them at www.kijana.org and figure out how to make a contribution. I can tell you with complete faith that your contribution would be meaningfully spent and make a significant impact in the lives of the students in western Kenya. The students I encountered there are so remarkably intelligent and on average, significantly more motivated and dedicated to their education than American students. They truly value the ability to learn and will study as hard as possible to achieve their dreams and escape their environment's cycle of poverty. They have the brains and the heart - they just need the resources. That's why Kijana's work is so important. You have the power in your hands (and bank account) to have a humongous impact on a student who wants so badly to succeed and make a good living for him or herself and their family. The world has a lot of money in it - mostly in our American hands. It's up to us to share it. Before leaving, I gave Franklin's family $200 towards his college education. Because of the donation, he'll be able to enroll in an aviation school next month and will be the first child in his family to attend college. His mother is poor and his father is deceased. It was a tough decision, but I have faith that it will pay off. Additionally, his mother will sell her livestock and Franklin will get a part-time job in Eldoret to earn the extra money needed to pay tuition. My sacrifice is so small in comparison to theirs*. Will you join me in making a small sacrifice for the lasting empowerment of Kenyan students? Even if it is as small as $10, I hope you'll consider it. Money comes and goes, but an education lasts forever.

And with that, I leave you. You can help make the story continue on at www.kijana.org.


*I tell this story not to brag of my generosity, but to perhaps inspire you to give as well. I don't believe in not sharing good news. I know it's always helped me to make a commitment if I've seen someone else make their own commitment.

Reaching the Summit

Three years ago, I climbed to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. But yesterday, I reached a far more rewarding summit. After a nine week climb creating a summit - the Global Student Summit program for Kijana - I reached the top. The picture to the right is what it looked like.

It was a room at Es'saba Secondary School, containing thirty students - ten each from Es'saba, Ebusiloli, and Mwituha Secondary Schools - who have been selected to participate in the program's pilot campaign, "Water Sustainability: Finding Solutions to Fresh Water Scarcity," starting in September and running through May 2011.

The meeting in the picture above was their Student Orientation, where they familiarized themselves with each other and received training to prepare them for the journey they are about to begin. While my nine-week climb to develop the program has just ended, their nine-month climb as participants in the program has just begun. Along with fifteen students from my high school, The Benjamin School in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, these students will become experts on the global water crisis and work together to promote some serious solutions within their communities, nations, and world. But their summit will reach a much higher peak than mine; they are taking their ideas to the top of the world - to two Presidents, a Prime Minister, two Members of Parliament, two Senators, one Congressman, and to the Secretary General of the United Nations. Together, these 45 students on opposite sides of the world will shine a very bright light on one of the most pressing - and most ignored - problems facing our global village in the 21st century.

During the orientation, each of the students received their own Participant Guide for the Water Sustainability campaign - beautifully printed in full color and spiral-bound - containing readings, reflection questions, and quotations to provoke their imaginations and inspire them to action.


One of those quotations I put in the guide is a favorite of mine from Robert F. Kennedy:

"It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance."
- Robert F. Kennedy

Kijana President and Founder (and my high school teacher) Jim Cummings was also present at the orientation and he made sure to point that quotation out to the students. He asked one of the girls to stand up and read it out loud, and as I listened to her read those words for the first time - with her unique Kenyan pronunciations and occasional reading struggles filling the silent room - I got goosebumps. To hear a young person encounter the words that I have cherished as a sort of Bible verse for public servants was like hearing it again for the first time myself. And somewhere, I know that RFK - the ultimate advocate and believer in the power of young people and the idea of "youth" - was smiling. 

Jim and I helped them understand what RFK meant, explaining to them that they are each sending forth their own tiny ripples of hope into the universe. Ripples of hope that would inspire others and one day, after crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, create a powerful tidal wave of hope. Amusingly, Jim even went so far as to point out to the participants that I am a student at the Clinton School of Public Service - a place named after a U.S. President who was born in a place called Hope. I picked up on it and explained that I was inspired by the ripple of hope that President Clinton has sent forth in the world, and now I was passing it on to them, who I hope will then pass it on to others. At this point, the students were beginning to understand the ripple concept, so Jim drove it home by having the students say out loud: "I am a ripple of hope!," louder and louder until they couldn't help but burst out laughing. It was an incredible moment that I will never forget.

And although I used President Clinton in my ripple of hope example, the truth is that Jim is the greatest source of inspiration responsible for any ripples of hope that I have sent forth into the universe. I have known him for ten years now, and I can still remember the first time I met him at Cross Country practice a few days before I started ninth grade. I might not have been able to articulate it, but I knew from that first moment and from the way that he treated me as a young person that there was something different about him that other teachers and adults didn't possess. He has a true gift for teaching and a truly large heart for empowering youth and inspiring them to let their own light shine outward. I was reminded of that again yesterday as I watched him speak to the students at the Orientation, and seeing the smiles that spread across each of their faces. In particular, I have to share the picture above. Jim is pointing to his hat, and while apologizing for wearing it indoors, he explained that he chose to wear it to the Orientation for a good reason. The hat has a simple, but powerfully true message: "There is no Planet B." His point was clear; it's the responsibility of you young people to protect Planet A, our most beautiful, wonderful home, Earth. It's been ten years, and I'm still learning from Jim. And still catching his ripples. 

I was extremely pleased with how the Orientation went, and with how my entire project has gone, for that matter. After the session, I had the students go outside for some pictures. Each of them took an individual picture holding their name (see Everlyn's photo to the right), and then as a group. It was incredibly rewarding for me to see the camaraderie that was displayed as the students waited to take their pictures. Students from different schools who hadn't met each other until just two hours before were laughing and smiling and enjoying each others' presence. I'm hoping that a similar level of respect and friendship can be built between the Kenyan and American students when the videoconferences start in September. Although I won't be able to be there myself over the next nine months, I'll be following the students' progress with great interest and pride as they work on their own summit climb together. 

Jammin' with Flat Bill

My dream of jamming with Bill Clinton - me on piano, him on sax - lives on. One day it will happen....it just has to (especially now that the Clinton School has not one but two former music majors!). In preparation for that moment, I've been jamming with Flat Bill here in Kenya (see picture to left). It will suffice for now.

What's a musician to do when he's got a sweet melody in his head but no piano or keyboard readily available to pluck it out? The answer: search Google for "java piano".

At five weeks and counting, this is the longest I have gone without touching a piano/keyboard since I started playing piano in second grade at age seven (surpassing the previous high of four weeks). I try not to be as melodramatic about my need to play piano as some of the people I met at Berklee College of Music ("I can't live without music, bro!"), but I'm honestly beginning to hanker for the opportunity to lay my fingers on ivorite (fake ivory - the ethical way to go!) keys once again. Making music just makes life more fun.

Patrick and I have begun co-writing a song that I am going to finish when I get back to the States. I first had the idea when I was in Kenya in 2007, but I never followed up on it, but Patrick has helped breathe some new life into it. It's going to be called, "How Are You, Mzungu?" You may recall from a previous blog post that "mzungu" is the Swahili word for "white person," which I hear regularly around here being shouted by surprised children as they take notice of me. But I failed to mention in that previous post that the word is also inevitably accompanied by the greeting "How are you?", which seems to be the first bit of English that every Kenyan child learns (and I have reason to believe that most of them don't even know what the phrase means, based on my attempts at returning the question to them).

But what is most interesting about their greeting is the way they say it. The kids - all of them, meaning I literally haven't heard a kid here stray from this rule - put the three words to separate pitches, making a little melody out of it. They say it very quickly, putting a little dip in the "are," sandwiched in between two higher pitches for "how," and "you" (for my musician friends out there, the solfège is Mi-Do-Re for How-Are-You).

So seeing how they have naturally constructed a melody out of the line, I'm really just pilfering it to make a song out of the only two things they say to me as I pass by them: "How are you?" and "mzungu." And isn't it convenient that these two things rhyme?

Here's the vision for the song - a typical African pop sound with beautiful, clean electric guitar, simple harmony, and groove-inducing drums/percussion. Patrick helped round out the lyrics in the chorus, which will be sung by some kijanas (kids): "How are you, mzungu? / I hope you're having a very nice day / How are you, mzungu? / I know you came from so far away."

A future Kenyan pop hit? Bill on sax?

Project update

Tomorrow will mark the four-week point of my project in Kenya. It's incredible how fast time has moved. But I've made good use of it so far - over the past four weeks, I've been hard at work developing the Global Student Summit program for Kijana. The concept of the program is to engage Kenyan and American youth in cross-cultural interaction and solutions-based dialogue on the world's most pressing issues. Each year, from September-May (following the US academic calendar), participants will collaborate and deliberate a new and different topic that has global relevance.

Kijana's director, Jim Cummings, who is a committed environmentalist, suggested that the focus of the first "campaign" (which is the term I have developed for it in my planning materials) be on global fresh water scarcity, with the goal of promoting solutions for sustainable water management. It is certainly a relevant topic here in Kenya, and whether students in Florida realize it or not, it's important there too.

The past four weeks has involved a lot of learning and research for me. I have become an amateur expert on water issues - or at least as knowledgeable as each of the secondary students who participate in the program should be when they're done with it. And being here in a rural village in Kenya has also given me a first-hand education of the water challenges that are faced in developing regions throughout the world (which Patrick has excellently documented in one of his blog posts).

Aside from the learning and research, my task over the past month has been to figure out how to make this a meaningful program that will broaden students' horizons and understanding of the world, and also make them feel empowered as global citizens and change-makers. Jim's vision for the program was to have a series of videoconferences which would culminate with the students writing and submitting policy proposals for sustainable water management to their national and international leaders - the President and members of Congress in the United States, Kenya's President and relevant Members of Parliament, and the United Nations Environmental Program.

That alone would be a great program, but I knew I could make it even more meaningful. Since I am a student at the Clinton School - a school of Public Service, rather than a school of Public Policy or Public Administration - I know that change cannot be affected through top-down policy decisions alone. The role of change-agent or advocate also calls for creating civic engagement within his or her communities. It means educating and changing hearts, minds, and behaviors. It means getting down on your hands and knees sometimes and getting dirty. It means being on the ground level, communicating with people eye-to-eye rather than staring at a computer screen all day on the 15th floor of a skyscraper. These are the lessons I took away from my first year at the Clinton School, and I am now ready to put them into action.

So in addition to the policy proposals, the students will also get a little dirty themselves. In addition to learning and talking about water, they will experience it, and serve it. In October, I am having the students visit their local bodies of water - Lake Victoria in Kenya and Lake Okeechobee in Florida - in what I am calling a "Local Immersion Mission." They will learn about their local water - its history, the life it supports, the challenges it faces - and then they will contribute to the sustained health of the water, even if it is as simple as picking up trash along the banks. The idea is that there is great importance in actually making that physical connection with water in their region, to help them understand what they are fighting and advocating for.

This idea was inspired by my reading of David Orr's book Earth in Mind, which I think is the most brilliant thing I have ever read. He says, "Water should be a part of every school curriculum....Water as part of our mythology, history, politics, culture, and society, should be woven throughout curriculum, K through PhD...I propose that (water) restoration be made part of the educational agenda. Every public school, college, and university is within easy reach of streams, rivers, and lakes that are in need of restoration. The act of restoration is an opportunity to move education beyond the classroom and laboratory to the outdoors, from theory to application, and from indifference to healing. My proposal is for institutions to adopt streams or entire watersheds and make their full health an educational objective as important as say, capital funds campaigns to build new administration buildings or athletic facilities." While this program won't fully realize Orr's vision, it is a start.

The other major component I have decided to add to the program is to have the students host an education and advocacy event (or series of events) at their schools to mark World Water Day, which is held every year on March 22 (which ironically enough, is also my birthday - perfect considering my last name!). It fits perfectly within the program calendar and will be a great way for the students to put the knowledge they gain to action, by giving them the opportunity to practice their advocacy, leadership, and communication skills within their school communities. It also broadens the impact of the program - I believe their presentations on World Water Day will make a legitimate difference at their schools, and will inspire their peers and even their teachers to make personal commitments to reducing their water consumption. The program will also request that students hold a fundraising drive as part of their World Water Day efforts for Kijana. The idea is for Kijana to take the money raised and pay to have water systems such as gutters and tanks installed at schools in Kenya. And yes, I'm even going to request that the Kenyan students raise money too. Despite the impoverished area they live in, I believe that with enough creativity, they can raise money from their community. This realization will help empower them to believe in their ability to contribute to change. Lastly, I'm going to see if my high school, The Benjamin School will match money raised by their students.

All in all, I want the program to be a holistic learning experience for the students. I've embedded my draft of the Participant Guide (below) that each student will receive and follow along with throughout the program. It's chock full of articles and information about the global water crisis, which will help prepare them for the videoconference discussions and in forming solutions to promote in their policy proposals. But I didn't want the Participant Guide to be an information dump. I wanted to engage them in a broad discussion of the supreme importance and significance of water. David Orr says, "What is the meaning of water? One might as well ask 'What does it mean to be human?' The answer may be found in our relation to water, the mother of human life. When the waters again run clear and their life is restored we might see ourselves reflected whole." Inspired by this, I have aimed to include a broad spectrum of selections in the Participant Guide, readings that will acknowledge the fullness of the students' human spirits and their wide range of interests and abilities. It includes poetry about water, stories about our physical and spiritual connection to water, scientific overviews of our global water resources, and the larger social impact that water scarcity has on the quality of our lives and our development as societies. As I learned in my Education Policy seminar with Don Ernst this past semester (which is where I was exposed to Orr's Earth in Mind), we can be doing a lot better at reaching each of our students on a holistic, human level. This project is my experiment, my effort, to try to do that.


The picture to the right is of students at Ebusiloli Secondary who will participate in the program starting this September.









Below is my draft copy of the Participant Guide. Feel free to browse through it to get a better idea of my project and this program. I would warmly welcome any thoughts or suggestions on the draft. More updates on my project to come. 

 DRAFT - Water Sustainability: Finding Solutions to Fresh Water Scarcity - Global Student Summit - Participa...

Word Gets Around

The other day Welliminah's son, Vincent, was driving Patrick and me in his car. As we were driving out of Es'saba village, we passed a group of little kids hanging out on the side of the path we were driving on. I heard them shout out something I have become used to: "Mzungu!", which means "white person" (some of my travel guides for Kenya try to be polite and translate it as "Westerner", which is not quite true). But I also heard them put another word on the end of it that I wasn't familiar with. "Wetu", as in "Mzungu wetu!" When Vincent heard this, he cracked up and said, "Do you know what they just said? They said, 'Our Mzungu'". Our white person.

Strangely, I have to admit that it feels good to be referred to as "our white person". I'm not just any white person - I belong to somebody. I'm Es'saba village's white person. I'll take it.

Patrick has a better shot of blending in here due to his skin color (he's been told that he looks like a Nairobian visiting the countryside to passing strangers here), but when he's with me, that shot goes out the window. We (mostly I) become a spectacle walking through the villages. Often we'll be walking around in an area where I don't see a single person around us in any direction, but suddenly we'll hear a kid shout at the top of his lungs, "Mzunguuuuuuu!!", as if it were an alarm or alert system for the entire neighborhood. Soon after hearing this 'alarm', streams of kids will run out of houses or shrubbery to simply stop and stare. I try to do my best to put a smile on my face and wave at them, because I know they are curious about what white people are like. So if they get any impression from me, I hope it's that I seem like a friendly guy, even if my mannerisms and Swahili accent come off a little odd to them.

And it's hard to hide in white skin even when I'm at Welliminah's house. Patrick and I have gotten into the habit of working during the day in her living room, typing at our computers, doing stuff for our projects. At some point in the afternoon, around 3 or 4, we'll often get a little stir crazy and decide to head out to the front yard and toss the frisbee around or even kick the soccer ball. Every time, without fail, the kids start trickling in to Welliminah's front yard to play with us. They come out of the woodwork. I have no idea how they find out so quickly that we're outside playing. Yesterday was an all-time high for us. Check out the picture below - at one point there was a whopping fourteen kids hanging out, including little babies who had been brought along by their older brother or sister.

It's cool with me. It makes it more fun for us to hang out and show these kids how to play frisbee, and to learn how to play soccer from them (even if I sometimes may get a little too peacocky for my own good).

But word gets around to older kids and adults too. I guess the buzz around town is that two Americans from Kijana are staying at Welliminah's house, so we'll sometimes get people popping in to say hello. Yesterday, a teenager popped in. I initially just said hello to him and continued working on my laptop, since it appeared like he was just there to visit Welliminah, with whom he struck up a conversation in Swahili. But eventually, Welliminah told me that he had come seeking assistance from Kijana. His name was Franklin, and he had passed Form IV (12th grade, making him a high school graduate) back in November 2009. But he was also an orphan with very little money. His problem was that despite passing Form IV, his school wouldn't give him his certificate (or diploma), because he still had a balance of 600Ksh on his tuition. He was wondering if he could get a donation.

600Ksh is roughly $7. Considering that this was now June 2010, and he had graduated in November 2009, it means that for seven whole months he was unable to accumulate the 600Ksh necessary to settle his balance and gain something that I assume is important to anyone - a high school diploma acknowledging four years of  hard work. More importantly, if he wanted to take the next step in his education and head to college, he would have to display proof that he had graduated high school, further emphasizing the significance of that piece of paper. So I gave him the money and wished him good luck. Really, the money came from the stipend that the Clinton School gave me for the summer. While most of that money has been spent on plane tickets, vaccinations, travel insurance, and even three days in Egypt hanging out and visiting the pyramids, I decided $7 to pay for a young man's high school diploma was a reasonable expense as well. So Clinton School, you should know that some of your money is going to micro-philanthropy in a rural village in Kenya.

Although it's hard for me to imagine Franklin being able to afford college tuition without a significant scholarship or other aid, I asked him what his aspirations for college would be. He said he would like to go to an agricultural college located in Nakuru. In any case, I asked him to write down his name and contact information for Kijana. Maybe we can figure out a way to help. In the meantime, I think Franklin is happy enough to have his high school diploma.

Karibu, Class 6!

Karibu is Swahili for WELCOME! Today, the Clinton School announced my new classmates, the Class of 2012! Click here to read about them - a seriously impressive bunch! I've been logging onto the Clinton School blog everyday expecting the announcement to come soon....so I'm thrilled that it's finally been posted.

Class 6, I can't wait to meet you all this Fall...in the meantime, have good summers and good luck getting settled in LR!