Ode to a Black boy. A Latin American girl. An Asian child.
In Forbes, Gene Marks wrote an article titled “If I Were a Poor Black Kid.” In essence, the piece was a hopeful – if somewhat “pull your socks up” – message to a low-income African-American “kid” discussing the numerous modern opportunities for self-development (e.g. Google scholar) available. Tools that would, only if taken advantage of, gradually lead this poor black kid to economic and social mobility.
Criticisms of this article soon followed. Concerns ranged, varying from charges of Mr. Marks peddling the myopic, trite arguments of a middle-class male to the vapid nature of (perceived) armchair advice.
Yet, one of the most enduring criticisms was this: contrary to the premise of “If I were a poor Black kid,” neither race nor limited access to quality education are the primary challenges that helped to perpetuate cycles of poverty in low-income communities. Instead, an intricate and varied set of challenges comes together to create a web of restraints that prevent mobility and progress.
In two key senses, the challenges facing developing countries are akin to those faced by the “poor black kid.”
First, no one or two challenges are central to the difficulties faced by developing countries. Second, the strategies for addressing the challenges of “the kid” may also share similarities with the means for driving economic advancement and development in general – layered and unique.
This insular belief in the “best” or “better solution” – I think that’s one of the many challenges that maybe wrong with the enterprise that is global development. Each party seeks/advances a panacea or the “better” solution for addressing the challenges of the developing world. From colonization, to independence, to dams, to roads, to structural adjustment programs, to poverty strategy reduction papers, microfinance, social enterprise, impact investing – the list of “better” continues.
What remains unheard in the din of each person pushing the next big thing in development is that there is probably not one thing that will solve the woes facing Latin America or Asia. Instead, it is more likely that a bespoke set of measures will help each respective developing country advance.
Like the “poor black kid,” just having access to Google Scholar won’t help, if the streets still lay riddled with bullets, or his mother remains distracted with three jobs instead of one.
Like the “poor black kid,” change and advancement maybe more likely to come about in developing countries when some efficient combination of Aid (gasp!), accountable government, a job-creating private sector, and a civic community come together to encourage change.
It’s funny how a man with polio, monkeys in your backyard, and walking in plots of maize can help to change a person. Change perspectives. Change a life.
For the last 10 months, I worked with a Kenyan firm, Western Seed Company, on sales and marketing initiatives to drive the sales of hybrid maize seed to low-income farmers. There are a few stories from the beginning of this experience, to now, that have cascaded to represent integral parts of my experience and explain how I am a different man than I was less than a year ago.
These three stories are important to three important changes I have noted in myself.
A Man and His Wheelchair
Each day on my way to work, I walk along a set of dusty unpaved roads. Along the way I pass a set of train tracks and I see a man working away from early morning to the late day as a cobbler. A victim of polio, his legs are essentially of little use. His primary means of transportation along the packed roads and through impatient pedestrians is a hand-pedaled wheel chair. Yet, despite his physical challenge, he has fought the headwinds of life to make a living, to stake a claim on the future.
Unbeknownst to him, this man and his choices have come to symbolize, from a wider set of experiences, a personal change in my attitude. Namely, I now consciously make daily choices to be more proactive about my response to challenges. I strive each day to demonstrate more ownership of how my life unfolds. I strive to develop accountability on the way I seek to change lives through my life – how I will ensure my life is one full of impact.
Maniacal Monkeys
On a few mornings and most afternoons, a group of monkeys scamper around my backyard and on top of my roof. Victims of their antics are the trees in the yard, vegetables which once had a chance at survival, and sometimes my eardrums. Yet, in contrast to an environment where each monkey is surrounded by many family members (and friends?) is my solitary life in my studio apartment. While certainly not simply a function of the monkeys, over this time I have come to place greater value on the relationships I have with my family, the time I spend with my friends. My role as a brother, trusted friend, and mentor has increasingly gained primacy as a value in my life.
Meandering through Maize Fields
As the 3rd passenger in a vehicle clearly meant for 2 people, I spent 5 days traveling across rural Kenya to visit a set of marketing demonstration plots. On each plot, the marketing team from Western Seed Company has planted a variety of maize seeds to show farmers the performance of the firm’s product. On 12-hour days, I visit over 45 plots, assessing the demonstration plots based on their location, the performance of the maize and the effects of fertilizer on the maize.
The ability of Western Seed to change the way farmers grow maize and be a game-changer in the market helps to demonstrate a model that I believe is likely to have the greatest impact on the lives of low-income individuals. Walking through stalks of maize has, somehow, helped me to gain clarity on how I want to have social impact.
This was not the story I expected to write at the end of my fellowship.
Yet, a man and his wheelchair, some monkeys, and a group of maize plots have helped me become more self-possessed and gain clarity on my values and future aspirations.
“How the World Failed Haiti,” an Irishman, and Self-Help
In Voudou – a religion developed in Haiti based on African roots – Papa Legba controls the crossroads, or the communication, between Man and what most followers of the Judeo-Christian tradition would understand as “God.” Any advice Papa Legba now has for Haiti on the crossroads of varying futures facing the country would be helpful.
A start for understanding the need for guidance can be found in a recent article by Rolling Stone titled “How the World Failed Haiti.” The author discusses challenges faced by Haiti: cholera, earthquake relief, and reconstruction. More importantly, the article discusses the failure of most leaders and their numerous initiatives to deliver on promises of relief and reconstruction.
This portrayal of Haiti is a (partially inaccurate?) narrative that is increasingly, yet uncomfortably, familiar: tragedy, despair, and failure. Interestingly, in a pattern that has also gained prominence, a market-oriented initiative is seen as the sole success story among a land of dysfunctional government, inept leaders, and the vestiges of failed AID programs.
The champion is Digicel, a telecommunications provider with operation across the Caribbean. With an Irishman as its chairman, the commercial success of Digicel is unquestionable. Digicel’s business success is matched by its positive impact on the community. In some countries, like Haiti, Digicel builds and supports schools, or even paves roads. So much so, Denis O’Brian, the chair of Digicel, recently received Haiti’s highest honour .
So, what’s the problem?
None really. Yet, what often follows stories about the success of market-oriented approaches is an ode to the market, a celebration and glorification of all things Excel-based. I have no qualms with these kinds of insights, given my belief in business as a most powerful agent in changing the lives of low-income households.
However, Haiti and Digicel offer insight into market limitations.
Markets Can Only Do So Much: despite being the largest taxpayer in Haiti, Digicel can only employ a certain amount of people, educate a limited amount of students, and pave a few (commercially relevant) roads. Lesson? Business is unlikely to wholly supplant a government in the provision of public goods to an entire citizenry.
Politics and Policy are Primary: despite a crumbling infrastructure, a spiral in violence, and lifeless bodies, the article discusses how some politicians demanded a pay-off before supporting initiatives aimed at helping citizens in needs. Lesson? Irrespective of the Clintons or Digicel, politics and policy remain central to improving the living conditions of many Haitians.
Self – Help is the Best Help: in the minds of many North Americans and the rest of the world, Haiti has sadly become synonymous with despair and failure. Room will always exist for outside help, and entrepreneurs will always have a role to play.
However – like most developing countries – positive, sustainable change is more likely to come into place when Haitians, and the diaspora, play a meaningful leadership role in bringing that change. When Haitians are accountable and own up to the results.
Until then, Papa Legba awaits.
As I prepare to leave Kitale, my mind has been in a contemplative mood. Mostly, I am trying to articulate what I will take away from my time here, what I will miss, and what I will be able to do without.
In this order, I will work my way through the post.
Lesson One: Ownership and Responsibility
Leading is a challenging task, requiring attention to detail, planning, and a commitment to top-notch results. The dynamics of leadership change when you are working in a new field, with new people.
From my time here, I have gained a better grasp on what it means to truly “own” a project. What it means to be completely responsible for an outcome, especially when you are not doing the “grunt” work. While learning this lesson was not, er, fun, it is one of the most valuable things I will take away.
A more expansive sense of ownership and responsibility has also been included in my personal mindset. I am less likely to wait for things to get done. More likely to ask for what I want. More likely to say “what could I have done differently?” versus pointing fingers.
Lesson Two: Great Expectations
What become enforced during my time here is the importance of meeting my own standards, and ensure that what I expect of myself is above reproach from others.
Lesson Three: Execution
While strategy and planning are important, execution is paramount.
This was a lesson I started to understand in my former life as shampoo peddler. Yet, my time here has inculcated a robust reverence for execution, particularly in the emerging markets of Sub-Saharan Africa.
Part of this lesson has been a greater willingness to “ruffle feathers,” particularly when something is not going the way I wanted to.
Lesson Four: Difficult conversations
I think most human beings have an opportunity to improve their skill and willingness to have uncomfortable conversation. If I was at the front of that line when I arrived, I am there no longer. By no means am I perfect. I have blabbered my way through conversations, thought about ways I could have said something better, and sometimes even made things worse.
That said, I am better, and look forward to continued improvement. *insert rocky theme song here*
Lesson Five: Hard Challenge, Hard Skills
Improving lives demands a more nuanced set of skills than I initially expected. Changing lives requires hard skills, particularly in social entrepreneurship, like an understanding of finance, marketing and strategy. For hard skills I also include conventional “soft” skills: superb communication abilities, empathy, and personal traits like eternal perseverance.
Now, what are some of the experiences I will miss?
1. Lost in Translation: While many Kenyans I know love dancehall/reggae music, the understanding of Jamaica’s lyrical language is not matched by the passion for the music. This is most evident at work, where I hear songs that are definitely “not suitable for work” being played loud and clear, with no one the wiser.
From explicit songs on bedroom antics (Hold Yuh) to trendy cocktails (Rum and Redbull) to the latest fashion (Clarks), I feel like a guilty insider.
2. Animals: monkeys in the backyard, me losing out on negotiations with cows for who gets first pass on a path, seeing birds of every colour on a daily basis, or driving around nonchalant baboons on a major road.
3. Food: there is a man who sells pineapples nearby my workplace. There is another woman who sells bananas and avocados (for the Jamaicans, pears) where I live. They smile when they see me. I really can’t help my self – eating some of the food here, particularly the fruit, makes me feel like I have never truly eaten in a long time.
4. People: I have met some absolutely fantastic people here. Words fail me on this one, but I will miss them.
5. “X” Factor: seeing a woman transported on the backs of bicycles, like an Empress supported by her entourage. Looking upward at maize stalks. Waking up to sunshine for 40 days straight.
And, what will I not miss?
1. Unstable “x”: this “x” can stand for electricity, internet, water, hot water, cell phone service, bank machines – the list goes on.
2. Roommates: I have a few roommates. From the lizards, to the mosquitoes, to some ugly unknown creatures that possess no names, I guarantee you, I will not miss them. Interestingly enough, in my absence, they will have a longer lifespan.
No surprise, there is more to miss, than not to miss. That’s been my experience in Kenya.
Why Farmers Don’t Share and How (Hopefully) to Fix It
There is a widely accepted story (gospel, even) that farmers (particularly those in rural areas) eagerly share information. The belief is that neighbours, in the bucolic hills and valleys of the developing world, happily share with other farmers improved farming techniques, recommendations on inputs, and suggestions on marketing or selling yields. Or that they watch each other’s farms, noting the yields and inputs of other farmers.
It’s a lie. Sort of. To be more specific, like many narratives in life, the truth is more nuanced.
To be sure, some farmers do share information, although not as often as we may have been led to believe. Further, the venue for sharing information may not even be on the farm. Instead, agricultural festivals or stores are often equally likely arenas for the sharing of information across social networks.
It makes sense that the “kumbaya” story on sharing farmers does not always hold true. As a farmer, if in your area you want to be the go-to-guy for the miller, will you actively share your secrets with your neighbour? After you walked 2 km to a motorcycle, took the motorcycle to the market, then probably took a packed bus to town, only to have to repeat the entire process with seed and/or fertilizer? I probably wouldn’t share as well.
At least, this has been my experience working in Sales and Marketing with Western Seed Company Limited, a Kenyan firm that makes hybrid maize seeds for low-income farmers. One thing that I would like to see happen is for farmers to share more often. For them to discuss more about the inputs, particularly maize seed, which help them deliver the best yields. For farmers to discuss the distribution channels that are in stock with the products farmers need, at the prices farmers want.
More sharing between farmers means better yields, better households, and better lives.
Achieving this is hard.
Farmers, at least in Western Kenya, often come from a family where agriculture has long played an important role in daily lives. And as people with minimal resources who carefully ponder decisions, switching brands, or buying products at a new store is not a light decision. Yet, selling inputs requires finding more channels for the distribution of the product, and consumers knowing where to get the product.
One way to address this is to put point of sale promotional tools to drive awareness of products. This could mean posters or display tools at different stores. Another is to showcase products so that farmers, storekeepers and stakeholders alike can see the performance of a brand and share (!) what they’ve seen. The entire point of these strategies is to encourage awareness among farmers of the product and various distribution channels.
While in Kenya, I have had the chance to put into place some of these techniques. I’ve worked with some fantastic people who still leave me somewhat in awe with what they are able to achieve in challenging circumstances. The results have been largely satisfactory, although there is still a great way ago.
And what we are doing is helping farmers to have a conversation about a quality seed that will help them improve their lives and ensure food security. For them to talk more about which stores meet their needs. And for them to go to the aggressive storekeeper, and make sure the right seed, at the right price, is available.
And that feels good.
Seth Godin, Shane Heywood, and Social Change
Each of these six stories is connected by a common thread.
I remember getting off a train, and needing to pull aside in order to understand the words coming from the phone. While I could hear perfectly, comprehension was certainly faulty. I am hearing the voice of the manager for the Global Leadership Fellowship program at the Acumen Fund, a $60 million social venture capital fund. She is saying that from 460 applications, received from 3 continents, I am 1 of 10 people selected for a fellowship. “What are your thoughts, Shane?” Flabbergasted, I ask for more time to create a coherent response. I literally skipped on the way home.
A few months later, I am creating a website. To fundraise. I hate fundraising. Yet, I want to do this fellowship, and fundraising is what I need to do to get it. I emailed multiple organizations for support. I call my family. I email friends. I email randoms. I email politicians. And still, without enough money, I sign on for the fellowship.
A few months later, in a discussion with Jacqueline Novogratz, the founder and CEO of the Acumen Fund, 9 other (amazing!) fellows, and the program manager of the fellowship program, we talk about Martin Luther King. We also talk about civil rights. In addition, we talk about his criticism of white moderates: good, liberal people who failed to take action in ensuring access to equal rights. Imprinted upon my mind is our talk about not becoming white moderates: recognizing a problem in the world, and deciding to do nothing.
Each day, when I walk to work in rural Kenya, I see people acting as agents and champions of their own lives. I see a man crippled by polio, driving a hand-pedaled bike on a hectic road so he can go to work, fixing shoes. I have long viewed life’s purpose as creating opportunity; these people are to me, avatars and emblems of the opportunity-creator spirit.
In December, after talks with my fellow fellows at the Acumen Fund, we recognize that some people cannot pursue the fellowship due to lack of funding. I feel like I have to do something about it. So, with my fellows, I am working to create the Martin Luther King Opportunity Fund, an award to help future fellows in need manage education-related financial burdens throughout the fellowship.
Today, I am sitting in a workshop by Seth Godin. To call Seth just a marketer is like calling Michael Jordan just a basketball player. Of the many things he talked about, two stood out. The first was the notion of a champion: a person who is willing to passionately advocate a cause. A person willing to ruffle some feathers to achieve a worthy cause. A person willing to commit to creating change.
The second is a discussion on when to quit a project. In this discussion, the question, on a hypothetical project, was a) What is your greatest fear? (Screwing up MLKOF) And based on that, what are you going to do about your greatest fear? (Failing)
So what?
I didn’t write this story for sympathy. Or (just) for a donation. Or to just tell stories.
I am writing this story to create a movement. To explain why I believe in social entrepreneurship. Why I will accept Seth’s challenge to be a champion for the MLKOF. Why I think opportunity deserves nothing less than my best.
I am writing this story to invoke the spirit of a man that helped to create nothing short of a revolution.
I am writing this to change the face of tomorrow, so that even if I fall flat on my face in failure, this world is (hopefully) marginally better off. I write show how my entire history — my entire story — has led to this moment.
I think you want to join me in this movement.
Do so by ‘liking’ the Facebook page for the fund. Do so by checking out the fund’s site.
And of course, you are always welcome to donate. * grin *
Social Enterprises, Band-Aids and Refugee Camps: Uncomfortable Similarities, Meaningful Differences
In 2008, disputes after a federal election led to substantive political violence in Kenya. Three years later, after 600,000 people were displaced by the violence, 200,000 of those victims – Internally Displaced Peoples – are still residing in a refugee camp. Outside of Kenya, refugee camps unfortunately maintain a prevalent and pervasive presence on the African continent.
Band-aids, whether the animated or plain kind, can often provide temporary relief to some injuries.
What in the world do refugee camps and band-aids have to do with social enterprises?
The Similarity: Temporary Relief
The inescapable – and often infrequently acknowledged – similarity is that like refugee camps or band-aids, social enterprises are inherently temporary, filling in the shortcomings of governments.
Areas which social enterprises address are varied, but often fall under Health, Education, Sanitation, and Energy. In other words, public goods that are probably best provided by a government with the capacity and will to do so. Sadly, in far too many parts of the world, some governments lack the will, capacity – or both – to provide these goods.
And while parts of the developing world have yet to demonstrate that governments are the best means of goods/service delivery, it is unlikely that a private enterprise or NGO can provide on a scale, efficiency and cost to supplant a government and support an entire nation.
Refugee camps allow the temporary provision of some critical goods and services to children, men and women, suffering from strife in troubled regions. Band-aids, well – you know what they do.
Yet, like refugee camps, social enterprises are addressing the gaps left by indifferent or incapable governments.
The disconcerting element is that while refugee camps explicitly acknowledge their temporary nature, such a perspective is not often widespread among social enterprises. In fact, with the – very worthy – focus on scale, sustainability, impact, and measuring that impact, social enterprises seem to miss the fact that their ultimate end goal is to work themselves out of a job.
The Difference: Long-Lasting Public Policy
For my future social entrepreneurs: delivering impact on a wide scale in a sustainable is a valuable and important objective.
Yet, your highest and most pervasive achievement may well rest on an ability to bring about changes in public policy. In other words, encouraging and/or enabling governments to become interested in, or capable of, the effective provision of critical goods and services.
How? Well two ways: success and networks.
At the risk of sounding contradictory, successfully demonstrating that a good/service can be provided will provide the platform for encouraging change in a nation. To say it another way, while relatively obvious – the ability to scale your venture and demonstrate success will provide a platform for driving broader change through policy.
A network among enterprises and organizations provides an opportunity to amplify messages of change and improvement. Organizations that bring together social enterprises under one roof are a good start. For example, think of the insights GIIN maybe able to share with future governments on the most effective way to deliver goods?
How powerful would it be for South Sudan to benefit from, and create policy based on, the lessons generated by such an organization?
Yet, networking should not be restricted to organizations of a similar ilk. Social enterprises should also work with charities, NGOs, international financial institutions, private actors, and multilateral organizations to create a coherent and articulate message on policy to empower low-income households.
All of this will be in an effort to not just create scale and impact, but sustainable, widespread and meaningful change.
