People often ask me what it is that motivates me to do what I do for a living. The question itself often perplexes me to begin with as for me, being a development worker, an activist and humanitarian, this is not a choice at all. It represents something so much more to me and instead takes the form of a calling or better yet, a lifetime commitment to justice, equality and change.
To understand this a little more clearly I have to dig into my own background a little more. See, I was born in a small island nation in what is considered the Global South. My family and I immigrated to Australia when I was just a baby but my parents vowed to consistently remind me just how lucky I was compared to so many others. To illustrate this they took me to discover other cultures through steady travel within my childhood.
The one poignant memory I have from these years was when I visited India at the age of 14. We were at a prominent tourist destination in the nation’s capital and had just stepped out on to the street in front this place. As soon as I looked up I saw a child no older than 10 in brown tattered clothing, carrying her baby sister begging on the street. She was barefoot and the look of utter desperation on her face plagues me even today.
I remember walking away from that encounter wondering why it was that she had been dealt that fate in life and I had been lucky enough to have another. I thought about what dreams she had for her life and what she could achieve if her family were assisted to raise themselves out of the crippling cycle of poverty that meant she had to beg on the streets just to survive.
I am haunted by the image of this young girl even today. The look on her face, the desperation, the despair, the vulnerability will stay with me for a lifetime. But it forms the backbone for the reason why I do what I do. I work each and every day to ensure that people who are marginalised and vulnerable are assisted with the opportunities to better their own lives.
I draw on the understanding that each human being is born with dignity and capacity with individual strengths. The only difference between myself and that child in the street is that I was privileged enough to access an education, provided with adequate health care and supported to achieve my dreams.
My role as I see it is to try and influence change towards transforming systems which keep people entrenched in poverty. As I head to work each day and into the field to visit communities in India, I am reminded of what holds my commitment to poverty reduction and equality and justice firm; the circumstance of that young girl and so many others like her.
For me, this isn’t a choice; I have to act, that is my responsibility; that is just who I am.
This is not a choice for me … it is a calling!
People often ask me what it is that motivates me to do what I do for a living. The question itself often perplexes me to begin with as for me, being a development worker, an activist and humanitarian, this is not a choice at all. It represents something so much more to me and instead takes the form of a calling or better yet, a lifetime commitment to justice, equality and change.
To understand this a little more clearly I have to dig into my own background a little more. See, I was born in a small island nation in what is considered the Global South. My family and I immigrated to Australia when I was just a baby but my parents vowed to consistently remind me just how lucky I was compared to so many others. To illustrate this they took me to discover other cultures through steady travel within my childhood.
The one poignant memory I have from these years was when I visited India at the age of 14. We were at a prominent tourist destination in the nation’s capital and had just stepped out on to the street in front this place. As soon as I looked up I saw a child no older than 10 in brown tattered clothing, carrying her baby sister begging on the street. She was barefoot and the look of utter desperation on her face plagues me even today.
I remember walking away from that encounter wondering why it was that she had been dealt that fate in life and I had been lucky enough to have another. I thought about what dreams she had for her life and what she could achieve if her family were assisted to raise themselves out of the crippling cycle of poverty that meant she had to beg on the streets just to survive.
I am haunted by the image of this young girl even today. The look on her face, the desperation, the despair, the vulnerability will stay with me for a lifetime. But it forms the backbone for the reason why I do what I do. I work each and every day to ensure that people who are marginalised and vulnerable are assisted with the opportunities to better their own lives.
I draw on the understanding that each human being is born with dignity and capacity with individual strengths. The only difference between myself and that child in the street is that I was privileged enough to access an education, provided with adequate health care and supported to achieve my dreams.
My role as I see it is to try and influence change towards transforming systems which keep people entrenched in poverty. As I head to work each day and into the field to visit communities in India, I am reminded of what holds my commitment to poverty reduction and equality and justice firm; the circumstance of that young girl and so many others like her.
For me, this isn’t a choice; I have to act, that is my responsibility; that is just who I am.
Sabene Gomes