I was recently in Ecuador visiting CBC (Covenant Bible College) for a week and had a strong reaction to the street kids that I met there – one of those, “I know some of this information in my head and I’ve seen poverty before, but I am still crying” kind of things. As I’ve thought about it, I think it was a human reminder of all the complexity and suffering that sometimes stays pretty neat and ordered in my brain.
While on my short trip there, what I experienced in most towns and markets in Ecuador were young children as beggars. Unlike South Africa and Chicago, other locations where I’ve had frequent experience with poor people asking for money, almost all the beggars in Quito were little kids – like under 7 or 8 years old. There were two little sisters that we met – one was about 3, one was about 5 – and they were wandering the streets totally alone, following people, grabbing elbows, pinching you, looking right into your eyes and purposefully communicating their struggle, until you give them money. Then they go back and give the money to whoever back home – its like its their job. This pair of sisters kept with us one day in Quito especially, and just did not leave us alone. A few other times, we saw a mom sitting on the ground down an alley or around a corner, who would send out her little 4 yr old kid to the street, and then she would come back to mom after getting money. There were also repeatedly little boys that came up to us, most of them probably ages 6-8, who offered to give us shoe shines or tried to seel lotto tickets or snacks.
It just threw me into a weird thing one of the first days I was there. Beyond the arguments people have about whether you should you give out money or food, or do you know where the handouts are going, charity doesn’t solve the systemic problems, if you give money then they follow you all day – beyond all this head stuff, it just hit me for some reason in a new way. These are children – these two little girls, the other toddlers we met, all the shoe shining boys – these children are trained and grow up with this as their role in society. Not only are they likely without food or security or healthcare, but they also look at the world from this odd, sad posture as beggars, as in the service of others, being raised to see the worth of themselves as people tangled up in such an oppressive and unhealthy role. Not to mention who knows how much violence or abuse or suffering they also regularly deal with. A friend at work said she did her grad school thesis on street kids and her research was pretty depressing; in most poor cultures, street kids are either poor or adandoned and so in need of the protection of certain adults – their employers. The adults either demand money, sexual favors, or work (or all three) from young children in order to protect them from other adults.
When I was exporing Quito, I was surprised by how much seeing all these young children beg really bothered me – and I started responding to any request by giving out money left and right. I just had to. Not even because it might really make a huge difference in these kids lives, or buy food for their whole family, or get them out of long-term poverty – I knew it was a short term solution. I did it because I just felt sick about my own reaction. Like I can’t give street kids 50 cents or 1$ – which is a lot for them? Like I shouldn’t be bothered by young children who have no grace or love or hope that is free in their lives? Like my knowledge of the structural reasons could somehow eclipse the reality of these little girls right in front of me?
Maybe what these kids do with the money is less important then my ability to give it away. Maybe it should never become common to walk among poverty and yet know it is not my own. These kids helped remind me, once again, of the faces and lives behind all of the research, the advocacy, the workshops and sermons, the liturgies and rock concerts – this work I’ve been doing with BFW and the ONE Campaign to end extreme poverty around the world. These kids helped teach me that ending poverty is also about my heart and my own weaknesses, about my choices and my responses to difficult and messy and overwhelming issues. These kids also reminded me that there is so much more to do.
“Speak on behalf of the voiceless; defend the cause of the poor and needy.” Proverbs 31:8