It is time to formally introduce you to the amazing men that make Haiti Mama possible.
On Stevenson's first day with Haiti Mama, he and six other social work interns, joined me at an orphanage in Port au Prince. No one had been there before, and we are all still haunted by the experience. There were 93 kids living in one institution; they all presented with disconcertingly low affect, they were all under-nourished, there were obvious and serious red flags of sexual abuse; and the director was terrifyingly mentally ill. She screamed and cried to me about their financial situation and blamed her brother for stealing all of the money sent for the kids every month. It was a mess.
When I was able to pull myself away from the disorganized, screaming director- I immediately went searching for my new guy; Stevenson. I found him and Max, sitting silently in the one inch of shade that existed in the entire yard. They were emotional. Angry.
Years of social work stateside and 23 orphanages in Haiti had callused me to the shock of injustice. But, this was the second orphanage Stevenson had ever been to, and it literally killed his soul.
His reaction changed the course of our day; which changed the course of our lives forever. He said: "It's not fair. These kids have families. Why is my country letting them live like this? How can this be happening? It's not fair. Where are their parents? I won't go back in there, I will not condone it."
I walked back into the orphanage, and grabbed Patrick who had been with me for all 23 orphanages. He immediately started reporting every observable sign of sexual abuse taking place. I stopped him and said; "The new interns are practically in tears outside. We gotta get outta here and go talk about all this. But, I need to talk with a few kids first."
Every kid we talked to had family they remembered. Some reported the orphanage didn't give them any access to contact them. Some reported family members making plans and promises to bring them home, but losing all contact since. One little boy cried because he wanted to be with his little sister again. He said: "Please help me get back to my little sister, she needs me."
The second my troop of interns and I walked outside of those gates; they erupted and started screaming in Creole. I wanted to make sure Stevenson had the opportunity to debrief; but I also knew that Haitian men are incapable of processing cognitively or emotionally at lunch time. So, I told them all to meet me Place Boyer and I left to go buy 8 plates of food.
At the park, Stevenson spoke with calm, humble words of wisdom. He asked contemplative questions about systems and government. He listened to everyone intently. He was passionate that the children needed their families. It was hard for the group to move past the injustice they had witnessed. I tried to guide them into solution focused conversation:
"That orphanage was horrible. I don't know how to fix it. My problem is- I don't want to fix orphanages, because I think the whole system is bad. We can't focus on what will make all these orphanages better- we need to focus on an alternative solution to the problem. There are still kids on the street. There are still parents that can't feed their kids. What could we do INSTEAD?"
The following video tells you exactly what happened next. When I say: "I was doing a social work training in the park..." it was actually 'Stevenson's first day, horrible orphanage debriefing' that brought us to 12 homeless boys.
Stevenson hasn't missed a day of work since.
Stevenson is diligent, organized and responsible. He is quick to laugh, slow to anger and always on time. He treats our families like family- they all call him Sonson. He is always the first to catch manipulation and dishonesty. He is protective when he believes there are any safety concerns for our families or staff, and he has been a pivotal player in guiding our practice with competency in Haitian culture. Stevenson is a leader. He is equally parts strong and humble. I have spent time at his home with his family many times, they are all respectful, hospitable, generous and warm. Stevenson says he will die with Haiti Mama (meaning he will work with us forever); and we couldn't imagine a day without him.
