trying to act my age

I had two conversations at the end of last week that I haven't been able to get out of my head. On Thursday one of the moms with a 13-month-old baby boy who already graduated from our program came by our office. She told me that she needed to talk to me but then sat down and chatted with the other mothers who were hanging around. After an hour or so, she pulled a chair up extra close to mine, looked me in the eyes, and then turned her head and started to cry. She, her 3-year-old daughter and the baby boy have been living on the street for the last 2 months. Between sobs she repeated "I am giving you my baby Rebecca".

Over the last several years, I have had a number of mothers ask me to help care for their kids. This was the first that it was someone I know fairly well - someone I will certainly see again. I said what came to mind - that she is a good mom, that I do not love her children as much as she does, that I want to find a way to help her care for her children, that I would do my best to find out what we might be able to do. I kind of regret saying the last two things. The mom is coming back on March 30th expecting me to provide some hope for her children's futures. The truth is, I have no idea of what we can do. There are no social services here. Unemployment is at 80-90%. For the hundreds or likely thousands of missionary projects and other non-profits working in Haiti, there are tens of thousands of people trying to get something from them.

The next day I had another mother approach me. M pa byen avek ou Rebecca - I'm not happy with you Rebecca. Why? I asked. Two weeks earlier, as I was walking out of the office, she had stopped me and asked me to be her 11-month-old son's godmother. I laughed it off - telling her that I was leaving in 6 months and I wouldn't be able to be there for all the important events that a godmother should be there for. She didn't push then but on Friday, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. For every excuse I gave, she had a logical comeback. It wasn't a problem if I wasn't there physically. I could wire money for his clothes and other things through my coworkers. I told her there were 82 kids in the program and I could not be godmother to just one of them. "Of course you can" she said - they already have godmothers but my son is 11 months old and he still doesn't have one!

I know that I won't give either of these moms what they want. If they were not clients at the clinic, I might be ready to offer something more - a little money or even agree be the godmother. But I can't make it even appear like I have favorites at the clinic. Word travels too fast. Precedents get set. I leave town and the staff here is left to deal with the expectations I created. At least this is what I keep telling myself. I am doing the right thing by not helping more, right?

The reality is that I've come to a stage in life where it's getting harder to feel justified with not doing more. I can't say I'm not old enough. Several of my close girlfriends have 2 or 3 kids already. I can't say I don't have the money. I may be on a graduate student stipend but I have more than enough for my present needs and the promise of a good earning potential in the near future. I have friends with really big financial responsibilities - who are paying a mortgage or medical bills for kids and/or their parents - on not too much more than what I make now. I can't say I'm not ready or willing to be responsible for kids. I really want kids. I totally expected to be responsible for more than just myself by this age.

Several years ago, when I was representing WR at a conference for university students, I met a wide-eyed 22-year-old Midwestern girl who asked me whether or not my organization was willing to hire a single mom for a job based in Africa. Then she started to cry. It turns out that she was the single mom. She had spent a year in Tanzania during college where she befriended an HIV-positive woman. Her friend became quite sick and asked whether the American college student would care for her 2-year-old if she were to die. She agreed. Her friend died. She brought the baby back to the USA with her. When I met her, she and her beautiful 3-year-old now son were living her parents in Michigan. She was trying to find a way to move back to Africa with him. The representatives from the evangelical missionary organizations she was meeting at the conference frankly didn't know what to do with her.

I've found myself thinking about that 22-year-old a lot these last few days. I deeply admire her compassion and that she is being faithful to her promise. I also think that she was naive and immature when she agreed to care for the baby. I know it's complicated. These situations are always complicated. I don't feel like I am making a wrong decision in the way I am choosing to respond to the two mothers at the clinic.... That said, I want some assurance that I will be open to / able to recognize / ready and willing to do something equally as costly as the 22-year-old girl did if/when the time comes. I want to act my age.