Trying to become a partner to the poor
I’m about halfway through the reading that I’m to complete for the coming week’s Global Health Ethics class…which is to say that I’ve just finished another two chapters in Partner to the Poor: A Paul Farmer Reader, a collection of articles written by Farmer and others between 1988 and 2009. One of the things that’s great about reading Farmer’s work is that he and I are in lock-step on most issues, including the idea that a good grasp on anthropology and history is essential to being effective in global health work. But the “problem” (and I place problem within quotes because a large part of me doesn’t see this as a problem but rather as a critical part of being human) is that I end the chapters enraged and frustrated by the imbecility, ignorance, and indifference of humankind–particularly my peers in the non-poor segment of the population.
It takes me back to South Africa–for the twisted knot of outrage and despair I feel in the pit of my gut.
It takes me back to Chile–for the confused shame I feel in my mind.
And it takes me back to my grandfather’s funeral–for the glimmer of hope for a better world I feel in my heart.
So for now I will keep reading Paul Farmer’s work, and dedicating myself to my grandfather’s life purpose…and trying to help create a better world.
