This week I wrote four letters to people we sponsor in Uganda. And then I wrote two more.
If you know our family, you would know we love Africa and have a special place in our hearts for Uganda. Survivors of over 40 years of consecutive wars, the people of Uganda have taught us so much about community and resilience. I conducted research in Uganda and I wept as I analysed the data, listening to people’s stories of loss and tragedy over and again. On more than one occasion I walked away from my computer where I’d been working with interview transcripts wiping tears from my eyes like I’d been cutting a potent onion. Only the stories and the wounds were more powerful than an onion. We have no clue in our comfortable Western existence what it is like to daily deal with war trauma. It’s not like the movies; it’s far more reaching and way deeper than any filmmaker could ever capture.
The land of Uganda is now in restoration and recovery mode. It has been nearly 10 years since combat moved across the borders and for the first time in a long time children are being born with no immediate memories of warfare. But there is still so much to be done. After 40 years of war and multiple generations knowing nothing else, there is so much yet to be rebuilt.
So we sponsor. We sponsor young women in college and young boys in primary school. Without entering the debate of sustainable aid and development programmes (for not all aid is helpful), we are committed to helping those who otherwise could not help themselves at this time because of various economic and social factors: women and children.
This week I finally sat down to write letters to the people that we support, addressing a backlog of letters that had been sent to us over the past months from Uganda. My guilt was talking to me: Write those letters! You know they love to receive letters from Australia. And you of all people should know, Alison, that kids who receive letters from their sponsors do better in school. Oh the quandry of having an educated guilty conscience!
It’s true. I remember a wonderful conversation I had with the CEO of Compassion Australia a few years back in an airport. We talked all things aid and development and he told me that metrics showed the kids who received sponsor letters performed better at school. This makes total sense to the educator in me, as there are strong links between self-efficacy (confidence in your own worth and ability) and academic performance. A vote of confidence from someone who has already trod the path of education means a lot to someone who is still on the journey.
This got me thinking: when was the last time I gave my own kids a vote of confidence? When was the last time that I really gave them a boost of I believe in you? When was the last time I put my vote of confidence in writing, like I was doing for the people in Uganda?
So I wrote two more letters. One started with Dear Emma and other Dear Beth. I poured out my heart in an effort to affirm, not what they do, but who they are. I talked about their sense of humour, their curiosity, their love for reading, and their sensitivity and kindness toward others. I stayed well clear of topics that professionals will grade at school (as that feedback is already being generated), and instead talked about their courage to think outside the box and outside the crowd.
There are enough voices out there second-guessing our kids’ identities and pushing for conformity. I’m so challenged that as a parent my voice needs to cheer on my kids’ strengths and virtues, and give them a good shot of confidence in the process.
Not surprisingly, there were two sneaky letters of reply on my bed that night.
