stop trying to fix things

When I took English classes in school, I learned something called constructive criticism. This concept was a delicate balance between affirmation of work well done and criticism of things that were not up to standard. The key was to include some of both. 

The problem with missionaries and volunteers is that we all come to this place with the mindset of How can I make this better? or What needs to be changed? Those aren’t bad questions in and of themselves, but they shouldn’t be the only ones we ask. When was the last time a newcomer came through the gate at Noah’s Ark and asked, What is going well here?

When I came for the first time, I was amazed at what a smoothly-running system they had here. There were people for everything and everyone knew what they were supposed to do and the operation worked rather well. Of course, I didn’t see all the glitches and unmet expectations, but I was pleasantly surprised at the whole thing. They didn’t need me as much as I had thought they would. But did I tell anyone that? Nope. At least not anyone who was involved in it. I told some other volunteers who were also looking in from the outside. 

We always did constructive criticism in English classes, and one thing we always had to include was something about the paper that was good. Even if it was a random thing like “Your sentences are nice lengths,” if there is some praise the criticism is more bearable. If it is only criticism, we put up a defense and don’t change anything because of course the other person is out to get us. Do we ever do that with ministries? At least, ministries we want to help? 

I remember going on a walk up the road the first time I came to Uganda. The thought that went through my head most often as I looked upon this village for the first time was, They really need some new houses. Then things will be better. 

At some point, somehow, I had made the correlation in my head that if the buildings were better, that equaled a better life. 

Thinking back on that now, I wonder what on earth I thought that would fix. It is just about the most superficial fix ever. By nature, we judge things by appearance. It is the easiest information to gather and process in a moment and without intruding or putting in too much effort. We look, we process (a little), we judge, and sometimes we make a plan. I looked at those houses with their rickety wooden doors and caked mud walls, thought about how crude and insufficient they were, judged them to be not good enough, and thought someone needed to come change that. Someone from the outside. Because that is what I considered help to be: someone coming in from the outside to make someone else’s life better. 

Thank God, I have learned a lot in three years. I still have more to learn than I will ever manage, but I have learned a lot. Change does not happen from the outside. It can influence change, but it can’t control it. 

I recently met a woman who travels around East Africa training nationals to be counselors. She said she loves to do counseling herself, but she knows locals will respond better to a fellow national than to a white person storming in and demanding to help. Part of the reason is this: When we go somewhere specifically to help or to make a difference, especially if it is in the area of trauma therapy or counseling, we only hear the bad side. We only hear the terrible things that have happened and the sad stories people need to share. We don’t get the context with it. When a national listens to those stories, she can listen to them within the context of this world she knows. She has a framework that includes more than the words being spoken in the moment and more than one sad story. 

Constructive criticism takes that context into account. It says, “In light of the things that are going well, here are a few things that could make it better.” 

Someone once told me that men love to fix things. Apparently it is hard for them when women don’t let men fix their problems because for men fixing them is the logical response. 

Recently Christian and I were on a run and I was telling him some ideas I had for the holiday program. For one particular idea about how to write the timetable, he listened to what I said and then responded with, “But you know with how people see things here that that’s not going to work. You need to…” and he proceeded to tell me how to do it differently to be more effective. Do you know how effective his “help” was? 

I stopped running and started crying, right there in the middle of the road. 

(I mean on the side of the road. Don’t worry, Mom, I don’t run in the middle of the road.)

I finally told him, “I don’t want you to fix it. I need you to affirm what I am doing and then gently offer help. Find another way to tell me to do it differently.” 

These days, do you know what I see when I walk up the road? I don’t notice the houses anymore. I see a tree with the world’s flattest branches that provide shade to an entire yard. I see maize growing left and right, some of it green and healthy and some of it yellow and dry. I see women washing clothes in basins outside and hear children calling my name from paths to their houses. When I am lucky, I see baby goats. 

I realize I live in a beautiful country with friendly people who are going about their daily lives in the way they know how. Isn’t that what we all do? Of course things can always be better, but criticism is not the place to start. 

A word of advice: Next time you want to “help” somewhere, don’t just look for the gaps in the programs or the people that are not being reached. Don’t approach it from what is missing. Look at what already exists, the good in what is happening, and see how you can add to it. Build on it. Expand it. Don’t tear it down straight from the get-go. Be constructive.