Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Eid al Adha
This is the second day of Eid al Adha, the Festival of Sacrifice. Take a look at my video blog to see what it's all about...
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The Servant’s Dilemma
I am here to serve the poor in Pakistan, yet I constantly find myself being served. The family I live with has two servants, the company I work for has two servants, and my friends have two servants. I can’t cook, I can’t clean, I can’t carry, I can’t even make tea for myself. Now I realize that the working wage in Pakistan is low, such that this is common, but I must admit that it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. In order to have a servant retrieve the dishes from the dinner table at 10:00pm, that individual cannot be with his or her family. Frankly, I would prefer to do my own dishes so that that person can be at home. While some people treat their servants like members of the family, others treat them as second-class citizens or worse. How easy it is to dehumanize fellow human beings. Thankfully, I was changed by my experience on the streets of New York with the poor during training and I have made sure to treat these people as best I can. Of course, I must allow them to do their jobs, but I make sure to speak to them, thank them, and of course give them a smile. I hope they realize that I appreciate them. I pray that I will never stop these small gestures for if I ever do, it will be a sad day indeed.
Joel Montgomery
Joel Montgomery
A Look Back to Acumen Fund Training: A Day on the Streets of New York
As part of our training curriculum for the Acumen Fund Fellowship, we were required to spend a day on the streets to better understand the poor. As soon as we arrived in the office one beautiful fall Friday, we were required to empty our pockets of our wallet, cell phone, keys, etc. We were given a $6 metro card and $5. The following is an article I wrote about my day with the homeless…
I have often wondered what is the most appropriate response when faced with a beggar in the street. Too often, I have balanced the choices of giving or not giving in favor of the latter, without truly understanding the person behind the request. Through spending a day on the streets of New York City, I was able to explore the lives of the very individuals that I have passed without even a smile or a kind word. Much to my surprise, my stereotypes of the urban poor were thrust back into my face.
Rose passed by carrying a small, black suitcase and a clear plastic bag full of cans and bottles. She eagerly accepted my offer to help her on her quest. Her slight smile, gentle eyes, and grandmother charm immediately made me feel comfortable. Rose taught me which cans were acceptable and which grocery stores accepted our booty. Every day of the week, she started work at 7:00am sifting through trashcans to collect the five-cent rewards that were hidden along her treasure route. On the day that I worked with her, Rose only managed to raise just over $3.00 after four hours of work; that is less than $1/hour. What struck me most about Rose was that she didn’t appear homeless at all. She was quite intelligent, very articulate, and knew more about literature then I could ever know. As I said goodbye to my new friend Rose, she asked, “Can I have a hug?” “Of course,” I replied. “I don’t get many hugs,” she responded.
Shirley caught my eye as I entered Penn Station. She was a small black woman, sitting in a motorized wheel chair with a sign that indicated that she was a veteran and in need of help. I struck up a conversation with her and was immediately taken with her jovial laugh and joyful demeanor. She told me how she often comes to Penn Station to raise money to live on. I asked her if people were being generous and she said, “Well, you came by and it is a blessing to talk to you.”
Peter sat on the gum stained sidewalk, cowering next to a hand written sign and cup full of change. I sat down next to him and noticed the sadness radiating from him. I learned that he was from a part of Hungary that I had visited in May of this year. He had come to the U.S. in 1999 at the age of twelve with his two parents. Since then, both of them have past away from AIDS. Peter lives in a cardboard box on the street. He told me how he has regulars who give him money, but he remarked that no one stops to really ask how he is. When asked what he likes to do for fun, Peter remarked, “I don’t really have fun.”
The homeless don’t have feelings. They are a group of nobodies with no life worth living and no real value to society. That is how you and I treat these human beings when we speedily walk past to escape their disheveled appearance and jingling cups. Oh, we may give a few coins or even several tattered bills, but contributing to their plight doesn’t lessen the dehumanizing behavior that we engage in.
Each of the 35,000 homeless in New York City has a story. Many are just as happy as you or I, if not more so. Certainly, some have mental illness and others are drug or alcohol addicts, but that does not give us the right to treat them as if they are not human. During my day on the streets, I met eight individuals who marveled me with their resourcefulness, touched me with their affection, tickled me with their laughs, and rebuked me with their humanness. No longer shall I walk by without acknowledging their humanity. To give money to their cause is a matter of personal choice, but to give a smile or kind word requires nothing but a little courage. The next time, you pass a beggar in the street, remember that he or she had a mother and a father. He or she has intellect and emotion, likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, just like you and I.
Joel Montgomery
I have often wondered what is the most appropriate response when faced with a beggar in the street. Too often, I have balanced the choices of giving or not giving in favor of the latter, without truly understanding the person behind the request. Through spending a day on the streets of New York City, I was able to explore the lives of the very individuals that I have passed without even a smile or a kind word. Much to my surprise, my stereotypes of the urban poor were thrust back into my face.
Rose passed by carrying a small, black suitcase and a clear plastic bag full of cans and bottles. She eagerly accepted my offer to help her on her quest. Her slight smile, gentle eyes, and grandmother charm immediately made me feel comfortable. Rose taught me which cans were acceptable and which grocery stores accepted our booty. Every day of the week, she started work at 7:00am sifting through trashcans to collect the five-cent rewards that were hidden along her treasure route. On the day that I worked with her, Rose only managed to raise just over $3.00 after four hours of work; that is less than $1/hour. What struck me most about Rose was that she didn’t appear homeless at all. She was quite intelligent, very articulate, and knew more about literature then I could ever know. As I said goodbye to my new friend Rose, she asked, “Can I have a hug?” “Of course,” I replied. “I don’t get many hugs,” she responded.
Shirley caught my eye as I entered Penn Station. She was a small black woman, sitting in a motorized wheel chair with a sign that indicated that she was a veteran and in need of help. I struck up a conversation with her and was immediately taken with her jovial laugh and joyful demeanor. She told me how she often comes to Penn Station to raise money to live on. I asked her if people were being generous and she said, “Well, you came by and it is a blessing to talk to you.”
Peter sat on the gum stained sidewalk, cowering next to a hand written sign and cup full of change. I sat down next to him and noticed the sadness radiating from him. I learned that he was from a part of Hungary that I had visited in May of this year. He had come to the U.S. in 1999 at the age of twelve with his two parents. Since then, both of them have past away from AIDS. Peter lives in a cardboard box on the street. He told me how he has regulars who give him money, but he remarked that no one stops to really ask how he is. When asked what he likes to do for fun, Peter remarked, “I don’t really have fun.”
The homeless don’t have feelings. They are a group of nobodies with no life worth living and no real value to society. That is how you and I treat these human beings when we speedily walk past to escape their disheveled appearance and jingling cups. Oh, we may give a few coins or even several tattered bills, but contributing to their plight doesn’t lessen the dehumanizing behavior that we engage in.
Each of the 35,000 homeless in New York City has a story. Many are just as happy as you or I, if not more so. Certainly, some have mental illness and others are drug or alcohol addicts, but that does not give us the right to treat them as if they are not human. During my day on the streets, I met eight individuals who marveled me with their resourcefulness, touched me with their affection, tickled me with their laughs, and rebuked me with their humanness. No longer shall I walk by without acknowledging their humanity. To give money to their cause is a matter of personal choice, but to give a smile or kind word requires nothing but a little courage. The next time, you pass a beggar in the street, remember that he or she had a mother and a father. He or she has intellect and emotion, likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, just like you and I.
Joel Montgomery
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thanksgiving Sadness
I awoke this morning to the terrible news that Mumbai had been bombed yesterday evening. So far 125 are dead and 327 injured. Apparently, one of the terrorists in custody is of Pakistani descent. I hope to goodness that this will not derail the recent talks of partnership between the two countries.
The Acumen Fund team immediately went into action to check on all of the fellows in India along with those of Indian citizenship to see if they and their families were safe. It’s comforting to know that there is such support here and abroad.
Apart from the dreadful news, this day has been like any other. Earlier this week, I tried to contact the US consulate in Karachi to see if they had any Thanksgiving plans open to US citizens, but they did not. While I may celebrate Thanksgiving alone this day, I still have the fresh memories of my family’s Thanksgiving celebration on November 9. I traveled home for a wedding during my final weekend before leaving the states. My sister, brother, and brother-in-law all came home as well for the festivities. We cut-a-rug at the wedding and then enjoyed our last meal together for the next 10 months. I am so blessed to have such an incredibly loving family that supports me and loves me back home!
Joel Montgomery
The Acumen Fund team immediately went into action to check on all of the fellows in India along with those of Indian citizenship to see if they and their families were safe. It’s comforting to know that there is such support here and abroad.
Apart from the dreadful news, this day has been like any other. Earlier this week, I tried to contact the US consulate in Karachi to see if they had any Thanksgiving plans open to US citizens, but they did not. While I may celebrate Thanksgiving alone this day, I still have the fresh memories of my family’s Thanksgiving celebration on November 9. I traveled home for a wedding during my final weekend before leaving the states. My sister, brother, and brother-in-law all came home as well for the festivities. We cut-a-rug at the wedding and then enjoyed our last meal together for the next 10 months. I am so blessed to have such an incredibly loving family that supports me and loves me back home!
Joel Montgomery
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The REAL Pakistan
Bombs, Taliban, Terrorism, Extremism, Danger. This is the Pakistan that the media portrays. Since my arrival to this country of 162 million a week ago, my picture of this land has transformed into a grand landscape painted by one of the Hudson River masters.
The sketches of this masterpiece began to take shape when I arrived late on a Saturday evening to the house that will be my home for next 10 months. The family that welcomed me immediately accepted me as one of their own. Now, I must confess that as a Southerner, I have been brought up with certain ideals of hospitality, but the level of acceptance that I received that evening makes us Southerners look plain old rude and shallow.
The first color began to hit the canvas as I traversed the land to visit poor farmers in the desert. Dust and desert shrubs stretched on for many miles in every direction. The only colors to break free from the abyss of shades of brown were on the bright pastels of the kurta shalwars that the women wore. As we neared, women would shield their faces with vibrant orange or red or pink fabric. 80% of these people live on less than one dollar a day and are entirely dependent on Mother Nature’s grace to give them rain during the summer.
The dabs of color began to mix together as my colleagues and I sat on the side of the road drinking tea before embarking on the rest of our journey. Converted WWII-era trucks that the British had brought many years before passed us decorated with intricate detail and hauling several times the amount of cargo that they had originally been designed for. Their unique horns seemed to posture toward one another in an attempt to dominate the others. Men sat on rope coaches conversing about the day’s events and enjoying the comforting warmth of a teacup that warded off the coolness of the evening air. A nut vendor passed roasting small chickpeas and selling peanuts by the bag full.
This is the REAL Pakistan and I have only gained a glimpse of its complexity and beauty. Now, I am not denying that there are elements Bombs, Taliban, Terrorism, Extremism, and Danger in this country, but which country can repudiate the existence of these elements within its own borders (minus the Taliban)? I wonder how might the world’s view of this country be if a more balanced portrayal of its reality were shared.
Joel Montgomery
The sketches of this masterpiece began to take shape when I arrived late on a Saturday evening to the house that will be my home for next 10 months. The family that welcomed me immediately accepted me as one of their own. Now, I must confess that as a Southerner, I have been brought up with certain ideals of hospitality, but the level of acceptance that I received that evening makes us Southerners look plain old rude and shallow.
The first color began to hit the canvas as I traversed the land to visit poor farmers in the desert. Dust and desert shrubs stretched on for many miles in every direction. The only colors to break free from the abyss of shades of brown were on the bright pastels of the kurta shalwars that the women wore. As we neared, women would shield their faces with vibrant orange or red or pink fabric. 80% of these people live on less than one dollar a day and are entirely dependent on Mother Nature’s grace to give them rain during the summer.
The dabs of color began to mix together as my colleagues and I sat on the side of the road drinking tea before embarking on the rest of our journey. Converted WWII-era trucks that the British had brought many years before passed us decorated with intricate detail and hauling several times the amount of cargo that they had originally been designed for. Their unique horns seemed to posture toward one another in an attempt to dominate the others. Men sat on rope coaches conversing about the day’s events and enjoying the comforting warmth of a teacup that warded off the coolness of the evening air. A nut vendor passed roasting small chickpeas and selling peanuts by the bag full.
This is the REAL Pakistan and I have only gained a glimpse of its complexity and beauty. Now, I am not denying that there are elements Bombs, Taliban, Terrorism, Extremism, and Danger in this country, but which country can repudiate the existence of these elements within its own borders (minus the Taliban)? I wonder how might the world’s view of this country be if a more balanced portrayal of its reality were shared.
Joel Montgomery
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I Don't Know Why You Say "Goodbye"... I say "Hello"
Given the fact that I have lived abroad on several occasions, I have not really anticipated much about the 10 months that I would soon spend in a foreign land. I was busy enough with training and arming all the necessary documentation to get my visa to think much about what life would be like once I arrived in Pakistan. That all changed on my last day with the Acumen Fund team in New York. During the day, Acumen Fund held its Investor Gathering for all its key investors in a shareholder meeting that is atypical in the non-profit world. As part of the afternoon session, my cohort of fellows and I performed a 10 minute presentation to give the audience some background into who we were, why we were there, and where we were going. In preparation for the event, Rives, the renowned slam poet, helped us refine our ramblings into a more thoughtful and more entertaining package. The performance held special significance given the fact that this was the last day that our team of fellows would be together until out mid-project meeting in March 2009. Many of us were leaving for the field the very next morning.
During the evening, my fellow fellows and I greeted guests to the Investor Gala with silk scarves. We mingled with the greater Acumen Fund community and I was impressed by the way that the engagement of most of the people in that room was far deeper than a simple financial commitment. I am convinced that social change requires much more than capital; it requires a passionate community that is committed to breaking molds and blazing new trails. It was at the Investor Gala that the importance of my work took on a new meaning. There is a movement brewing. For too long, the traditional aid models have thrown trillions of dollars at developing countries and in most cases making the situation far worse. Acumen Fund, Endeavor, and other like-minded hybrid organizations are challenging the old guard. We are leveraging the power of business to empower the poor. As I leave for Pakistan, I am eager to live this work firsthand.
Joel Montgomery
During the evening, my fellow fellows and I greeted guests to the Investor Gala with silk scarves. We mingled with the greater Acumen Fund community and I was impressed by the way that the engagement of most of the people in that room was far deeper than a simple financial commitment. I am convinced that social change requires much more than capital; it requires a passionate community that is committed to breaking molds and blazing new trails. It was at the Investor Gala that the importance of my work took on a new meaning. There is a movement brewing. For too long, the traditional aid models have thrown trillions of dollars at developing countries and in most cases making the situation far worse. Acumen Fund, Endeavor, and other like-minded hybrid organizations are challenging the old guard. We are leveraging the power of business to empower the poor. As I leave for Pakistan, I am eager to live this work firsthand.
Joel Montgomery
Closing One Chapter and Opening Another
In spite of my brief six-week stint in Honduras, I feel confident that I was able to make a positive contribution to the Cooperative. While some of the more tangible outcomes included the formation of two new microbusinesses and the restructuring of the Cooperative, probably my longest lasting impact will be more intangible. During my time in Honduras, I noticed the Cooperative members change from an attitude of dependence upon donors to one of seeking sustainability. I hope that this key revelation will continue to bear fruit long after my departure.
After a brief stopover in Alabama for some R&R with my family, I made my way to the Big Apple to begin my fellowship with Acumen Fund. The fellowship began with seven weeks of intense training that included leadership development, team-building, in-depth discussions on the foundations of democracy, and access to incredible speakers such as David Bornstein (Author of “How to Change the World”), Martin Fisher (CEO of Kick Start), and Seth Godin (Marketing Guru). I was fortunate to be joined on this journey by nine exceptional individuals who had also been selected for the fellowship program: Premal Desai (India), Sophie Forbes (USA), Ram Haribaran (India), Joanna Harries (Canada), Mubarik Imam (Pakistan), Karthik Janakiraman (India), Heidi Krauel (USA), Nicole Orillac (Panama), and Suraj Sudhakar (India). What surprised me most about this group of highly successful and passionate people was their incredible humility. In a world that is full of self-righteous egomaniacs, it was truly an honor to serve alongside such incredibly humble people.
Joel Montgomery
After a brief stopover in Alabama for some R&R with my family, I made my way to the Big Apple to begin my fellowship with Acumen Fund. The fellowship began with seven weeks of intense training that included leadership development, team-building, in-depth discussions on the foundations of democracy, and access to incredible speakers such as David Bornstein (Author of “How to Change the World”), Martin Fisher (CEO of Kick Start), and Seth Godin (Marketing Guru). I was fortunate to be joined on this journey by nine exceptional individuals who had also been selected for the fellowship program: Premal Desai (India), Sophie Forbes (USA), Ram Haribaran (India), Joanna Harries (Canada), Mubarik Imam (Pakistan), Karthik Janakiraman (India), Heidi Krauel (USA), Nicole Orillac (Panama), and Suraj Sudhakar (India). What surprised me most about this group of highly successful and passionate people was their incredible humility. In a world that is full of self-righteous egomaniacs, it was truly an honor to serve alongside such incredibly humble people.
Joel Montgomery
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