Plight of a People

Sometimes it just isn't possible to dodge the real world. By this point, nearly everyone on the globe is aware of the tragedy of catastrophic proportions currently going on in Haiti. Last week, a 7.0-magnitude earthquake struck a country that has already long been ravaged by poverty, disease, and economic ruin. Photos of dead bodies and crying children have been featured front and center on the New York Times site each day since the disaster occurred-- these are the human faces of the horror. I don't think there's a decent person out there who can look at such graphic visuals and not feel anything, be it shock, sorrow, or utter hopelessness.

While my knowledge of Haiti is somewhat limited, I haven't been totally in the dark about the country's ongoing bleak situation. Last year, one of my good friends began working with a microfinance institution based in Port-au-Prince. Before that, I learned about Dr. Paul Farmer's work fighting TB and AIDS in Haiti when I read Mountains Beyond Mountains for a college history class. I now know more about the country than ever before, but unfortunately only because of the earthquake.

I may not have the strongest personal connections to Haiti, but my hometown certainly does. The five boroughs (Brooklyn in particular) are home to the largest communities of Haitians in the United States. When I was a kid, I remember almost always hearing Creole being spoken on the B3 bus in the Flatbush area near the mall. Haitian culture lives and breathes in Brooklyn, and so many locals are mourning the loss of their people and the place they once called home. I can barely get a grip on the measure of their devastation.

When these deadly natural disasters occur-- Hurricane Katrina, the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami-- my mind has trouble registering figures like "50,000 feared dead." I want to feel grateful that New York isn't on top of a fault line, in a tornado zone, or likely to get hit by a tsunami. But instead I can't stop thinking about how vulnerable we all are, and how much suffering can be caused by what we as humans can't control: forces of nature.

And yet that statement isn't entirely true. While it isn't physically possible to stop a 7.0-magnitude earthquake from causing massive destruction, it is possible to be more prepared for its effects in order to prevent further loss of life. But Haiti didn't stand a chance, and that's what I find so heartbreaking. Things were already awful, and just got exponentionally worse. This was honestly the very last thing that the poorest country in the Western hemisphere needed. If these people can hold onto some semblance of hope in a time like this, then their resilience truly amazes me, because I don't know if I could do the same.

A few days ago, my fingers found themselves texting the word "HAITI" to 90999-- AKA the Red Cross relief efforts. In the past, I've rarely given to charities mainly due to a lack of steady income, as a full-time student supported by my parents and whatever cash I've scraped up from part-time jobs. But being employed full-time (for the first time) has allowed me the wiggle room to make a donation out of my own pocket, which is all the more meaningful. I can only hope my handful of dollars helps at least one person-- even if it equates to a single sip of water.