How to teach a 5-year-old about human trafficking (no, really, how?!)

My 5-year-old is a sponge. And a detective. And, very often, I'm convinced, a creative genius. And she asks A LOT of questions. This morning between wake up at 6:00 and drop-off at 7:30, we covered such topics as plant upkeep, ocean health, oil pipelines, and, for the first time, human trafficking.

Keeping up with all the curiosity is at times
invigorating and exhausting!
Photo cred: Tiffany Tsang

Up until now, our daughter has known in vague terms what we do (we've discussed poverty and child protection, among other things) but this morning I tried to explain, in simple, 5-year-old terms, what human trafficking is. And probably butchered it. (Although I am now convinced that all researchers should have to explain their work to 5-year-olds to better understand their own research!)

Her first question after my short explanation was, "Do the people who get trafficked want to go?" OOF. Way to sucker punch, darling girl! But it did make me think of Lesson #9 from my 10K for 10 years post:

Trafficking and exploitation are a spectrum, with choice

and coercion playing varying and nuances roles

So how does one explain something so nuanced to children, who depend on black and white in their lives? There were so many possible things I could have said, and I opted for this: "Sometimes people think they're getting an opportunity to earn money and help their family, but when they get there, they've been tricked and are not paid and not allowed to go home or see their family." 

It's just the beginning of a conversation, one that will continue in many forms and over a long time. So I turn to you - how would you explain trafficking to a 5-year-old?

10K for 10 years

The original blog post can be found at http://chabdai.org/blog/2017/11/26/10k-for-10-years.

Ten years ago, I was working for a small child protection consulting company in Canada, writing policy and (slowly) learning how to apply all my theoretical undergraduate knowledge to the real world. I was also learning how to be married to my husband of 3 months, and we were excitedly saving and planning to leave the next year for our first overseas placement. Where and doing what we were unsure, we just knew we wanted to go!

Charlie and I got married in 2007
Photo cred: Michel Tremblay

I applied to every internship under the sun – in Africa, of course, because I had focused most of my International Development Studies on African development – and never heard back. In the midst of knocking, pounding, and kicking on every door, my boss sent me to represent the company at a conference on child trafficking and exploitation. And I met a certain woman named Helen Sworn.

I interviewed Helen for a concept note I was writing for my company and we hit it off. I learned about what Chab Dai was doing in Cambodia, and immediately gained a deep respect for their values and approach. Well, to make a long story short, it turned out Chab Dai needed someone to do exactly what I knew how to do – write Child Protection Policies!! And, very providentially, Chab Dai’s partner, Child Helpline Cambodia, also needed a volunteer, for which my husband was well suited.

We went to Cambodia for the first time in September 2008 and spent
6 months interning with Chab Dai.

When Charlie and I went to Cambodia for the first time in 2008, we were well aware that our experience in the anti-trafficking sector would either tear us down or light a fire that would not easily go out. Ten years on, we are both still very committed to this sector and to Chab Dai. Over the past 10 years, I have held multiple positions with this organization I love so dearly, as a volunteer, paid staff, co-founder of Chab Dai Canada, and now as a board member with Chab Dai International.

After grad school, we moved back to Cambodia in
2012 and have been here ever since.
Photo cred: Tiffany Tsang

What better way to celebrate 10 years than to run my first 10K marathon?! On December 3, I will run the Angkor Wat 10K and I’d like to invite you to donate $10 to Chab Dai for my 10K. As we all know, the fight for human rights is a marathon, not a sprint, and I hope the skills, passion, and knowledge I have gained in the past 10 years will propel me on for the next 10!

Post from my first ever run on May 24, 2017

To commemorate my 10 years of involvement in this sector, here are 10 things I have learned:

1. Human trafficking is not just sex trafficking;
2. Human trafficking is not just about movement, but about vulnerability;
3.  If we want to understand vulnerability, we need to understand injustice, poverty, and discrimination;
4. We can cause more hurt if we do not help in thoughtful ways;
5. I am not a savior and the solutions are so much bigger than me;
6. Survivors of trafficking are not homogenous, they are as diverse as all human beings;
7. The anti-trafficking sector needs more than “rescuers,” it needs researchers, social workers, writers, artists, psychologists, fundraisers, community workers, foster parents, business owners, etc.!
8. Victims/survivors want to be treated with respect, not pity, and we need to be careful about how, when, and why we tell their stories;
9. Trafficking and exploitation are a spectrum, with coercion and choice playing varying and nuanced roles;
10. If we want to end human trafficking, we need to fight for all human rights.

If you wish to join me in support of Chab Dai, you may do so by donating here.

Thank you!! 

Unemployed.

4 lessons from a period of non-work

This year has been a year of "redirection," a year I decided I would stop taking short-term contracts in areas I liked to try and pursue a vocation I love. Anxiety, fear, and low self-esteem promptly ensued. But I have stayed at it, and I feel like I'm actually learning some things. 

Here are 4 of my big lessons this year.

1. We are incredibly loved and supported.

Over the last year, we have struggled financially. Taking time away from work because E was born, and then taking time away from work because of my decision to redirect my career have taken a toll on our budget and bank account. And yet we are making it. Last year, in a particularly strained month, our good friends casually gave us an envelope with $400 in it. This past week, in the aftermath of our home invasion, friends and family have graciously and unceremoniously given and sent us money to help cover the losses. We have also received incredible words of comfort and encouragement and have felt our entire community lift us up in prayer and support. As I have struggled to find my way in a new career path, our supporters have been patient and they and our wider community have loved me so well through all my uncertainty, impatience, and tears. Like never before have I felt the beauty and comfort of my village.

I hope I do not take it for granted.

2. We are incredibly privileged.

Even though we have struggled financially, we know for a fact that we will be ok eventually. We will make money eventually. We are taking money from our line of credit this month to buy a car, confident that we will pay it back pretty soon. We are both well educated, we have a vast safety net (as evidenced above!), we buy international health insurance, and we have a privileged notion that hard times are temporary. And it is clear as day that this is not how the majority of the world lives. And so, even though we’re in a “dry” patch right now, we are still stewards of our income and possessions, and ever humbled by the privilege we have luckily inherited.

I hope I use my privilege to build up others.

3. Taking time away from work really does give you room to think.

The idea I had at the beginning of the year of what type of work I would pursue is a little different from what I am gravitating towards and pursuing now. And that evolution happened because I actually took time away from working. I made the decision to not take any contract that came my way, but to be “picky” and, as of August, only apply for full-time work. As much as this caused me anxiety, it also gave me room to think, network, and ask myself (and others) the tough questions about how I want to engage in the development sector. And the answers have led me in a different direction than I was expecting but am now incredibly excited about.

I hope I can remain reflective as the process continues.

4. My worth is not in my work.

Yes, I am guilty of placing far too much of my self-worth in the job I have and my professional/academic achievements. I have been to some dark places this year where I have felt like I was drifting because I wasn’t employed and didn’t know when I would be (I’m still there, but not feeling so dark). Meanwhile, Charlie got an amazing promotion and is feeling more fulfilled than ever in his career. I am so proud of him and my heart is so full seeing him so passionate. Although I’m not jealous, it was a stark contrast to my seemingly aimless professional period. And then my Mom reminded me that we are not in Cambodia just “to work” and that work is not who I am. This year I got to spend tons of time with my kids, went on play dates and coffee dates with friends, and I got to know a beautiful and supportive community of stay-at-home moms. I also have a lot of friends who are figuring out their own career paths, and I have felt a deep sense of purpose when chatting with them about similar issues we are wrestling with.

I hope I can hold true to a deeper sense of purpose when I become employed.

Have you ever felt adrift in your professional life? How do you balance your sense of self when it  comes to "work/life balance"? Any tools or resources to share in this areas?

Ode to a BFF

I sat on my four-year-old's bed yesterday while she pounded her fists into the mattress and her own legs, her tiny but powerful voice angrily seething, "It's not fair! It's not fair! It's not fair" over and over again. I remember feeling that way as a kid: so angry and frustrated that you feel like it's going to explode out of you and words just aren't enough.

She wasn't having a tantrum. She wasn't being a brat. She was trying to work through the utter heartbreak of her best friend moving back to Canada from Cambodia. They met when she was 2 and a half and now she's 4 and a half and she can't remember when they weren't best friends. I remember. Because this isn't the first time she's been torn away from her friends.

When I was 12 years old, my lifelong best friend moved to California. It was awful. We spent every waking moment together for the 2 weeks before they left. It was an important event in my young life. Our 4-year-old daughter has now gone through that 3 times. The first time she was just 2 and didn't really understand what was going on, kept asking where her friend was. The second time was when we were coming back to Cambodia after a 6-month home leave and she was very sad to leave behind our close friends' daughter who we had spent a lot of time with that winter. This time it feels different. This time she's not a toddler, but a little girl who is starting to truly understand the distance, time, and "apart-ness" of living on the other side of the world. And she's angry about it.

I'm starting to understand the burden of responsibility for the impact of our decision to live overseas on our children's lives. We chose to do life in Cambodia. We chose to live far away from our family. We chose to live in a transient community where goodbye parties are our most frequent event. They didn't chose this, we chose it for them. We believe in the blessings, advantages, and opportunities this will give them, both now and later in life, but today, having said goodbye to both one of my best friends and my child's best friend, I understand her anger about these decisions.

So I sat on her bed yesterday and I pounded my fists into the mattress beside her, and I said, "I'm angry, too" and I affirmed her frustrations and grief and sadness. And I pray that that affirmation will be what she remembers, not just the anger and sadness at losing another friend, but that those feelings are valid and real. And that she won't bury the feelings and herself, but will keep expressing herself and opening herself up to other friends and people who come in and out of our lives. Because my 4-year-old is a great friend! She throws herself into friendship and loves wholeheartedly and passionately. And I never want her to lose that part of herself. 

3 Things that Scare me About Taking a Leap of Faith

It's time. Time for a leap faith.

After dedicating much of my work time over the past few years to Chab Dai projects, I've decided, after a lot of prayer, discernment, conversations with mentors, family, and friends, tears, dreaming, and anxiety...

I have stepped away from contractual work with Chab Dai and am working on building up my skills and experience to work in something I feel a strong passion and calling for. It's hard to know what to call it, because it could take many forms, but basically I am pursuing my calling in economic empowerment. Whether that is community economic development, social enterprise, economic resilience and reintegration programming, or research and model testing, I'm not sure. I'm open to all of it! 

A few weeks in, and I am pretty evenly split between utter excitement and talking myself out of a panic attack. Because it's scary. I'm scared. And this is what scares me most:

1. Financial uncertainty: after writing a research report on the subject, I self-diagnosed: Hello, my name is Julia, and I suffer from financial anxiety. Making the decision this year that I won't take work unless it is in the economic development and research realm has meant we're living really tight. And that's OK (that's Charlie talking). We're able to cover our basic expenses every month. And of course that leads me to feel incredibly guilty that I even feel anxious because we live in a country where many people can't say that. But there you have it: I worry about eeking it out every month.

2. What if I'm not good? What if up until now I've taken the easy road and excelled because I wasn't pushing myself and now that I go after what I really truly want to do, I fall flat? What if I'm all talk and can't deliver? What if I'm a fraud? No matter how much someone (*ahem*Charlie*) can tell me logically why I'm ready for this, that little voice is there, telling me I'm not.

3. What if I can't actually balance work/parent life? Since S was born, I've worked, quite a lot, but never in a full-time, 9:00-5:00 job. I've been able to make my own schedule, which worked great, because I wanted to have the flexibility to take a morning here or a day there to be with my babies. I think I'm ready for full-time work, but I haven't tried it yet, so what if it doesn't work? 

So that's it. My three biggest fears this year. Welcome to my panic attack.

Here's my antidote to fear and anxiety: prayer. I'm 100% serious. When I feel the fear creeping in, the anxiety taking over, I try to sit down and meditate, focus on communing with God, and most often it calms my spirit. It doesn't mean the fear and anxiety go away forever, but sometimes it's just enough to get me through the day. And not only does it calm the anxiety, but I often end meditating being reminded of the excited part of this journey. I'm going after my dream! I'm following a calling! I live in Cambodia and it's pretty awesome!

And I think, "See you later, fear and anxiety!" (And I do.)

...if only in my dreams

Charlie and I have missed a few Christmasses in Canada. This year will be the fourth Christmas we'll have spent in Cambodia (2008, 2012 & 2013); but also, because we're from different corners of Canada, we've also sometimes had to miss holidays with one of our families.

Our first Cambodian Christmas in 2008, when we dirt biked up to Ratanakiri

Christmas 2012, which was also Sam's first Christmas

Christmas 2013, when my sister Christa and her then-boyfriend/now-husband
spent the holidays with us!

Last year, Christmas in Montreal was very near perfect. My sister had just gotten married, we were over the jetlag, I was huge but not yet overdue (Christmas 2011 with Sam at 40 weeks + 5 days was another story!) and my parents pulled out all the stops to give us a holiday season we had dreamed of for years. In some ways, I'm carrying the high of last year with me into this coming December.

Last Christmas in Montreal, near perfection!

 Every year we are away for Christmas, Charlie and I always have a moment. We listen to Sarah McLachlan's "I'll be Home for Christmas," catch each other's eye, and share a few tears. It's almost become comical, because it always happens the same way. This year, our moment happened on November 1, when Charlie surprised me by putting on my beloved Christmas music weeks earlier than he normally allows. It's a beautiful version, have a listen!

I am really looking forward to Christmas in Cambodia this year. It's Ella's first Christmas, so that will be special. A number of our friends are staying in town this year, so we'll spend lots of time with them. I am singing in our church's Christmas choir, we'll do a Christmas Eve sleepover with our home group, we plan to go skating at the mall, turkey will be eaten on at least one occasion. We've been here for long enough that we feel we have our own Christmas traditions in Cambodia. We even brought a Christmas tree home with us from Canada (thank you, IKEA!)

But that song. That song reminds me that no matter who lovely Christmas is here, what I love most about this season is family. So I will cling to my beautiful little family here and grieve over missing out of the larger family back "home."

Yes, I walked there once.

In 2006, I spent my last undergraduate summer in Rwanda on my first overseas internship. It was a difficult and amazing experience in many ways and some memories have stuck more than others. 

On one occasion, my friend and I had the amazing opportunity to cross the border into Eastern DRC and fly in a little bush plane to a small town inland. It was exhilarating! And perhaps a tad ill-advised, in hindsight - we met the pilots the evening before at dinner and the town we flew to we found out later was controlled by a warlord-type. Oops.

The flight was awesome. We flew for about 30 minutes, over nothing but dense jungle; it looked like tightly packed broccoli heads. We even each got the chance to "fly" for a couple minutes. And all of a sudden we were descending and a longish dirt path appeared onto which we landed. We didn't stay long, just walked around a bit while the plane was unloaded, and off we went again. What an adventure!

A short while later, I was sitting in the office of the small faith-based organisation with which I was interning. A pastor was visiting from his town and we were chatting casually. I ended up telling him about our little DRC jaunt and how beautiful the flight was and the village we ended up in, which was called Wali Kali. 

And then he said, "Ah yes! Wali Kali. I walked there once."

In 1994, when his country was being torn apart from the inside out, he gathered up a few provisions, and he and his wife and their small children had gotten out of Rwanda and walked through that broccoli head jungle. With the poisonous snakes and dangerous animals and even more dangerous rebel groups and armies.

I think that was the first time in my life I started to understand what it means to be a refugee. The lengths someone will go to and the risk they will undertake if it means they might save their children. The resilience and strength, physically, psychologically, and spiritually, it must take to make that long and uncertain journey. The desperation of needing to get out and the faith that you can find something better, something safer.

That pastor humbled me. I will probably never have the firsthand experience of having to place my child on a boat into the unknown. I am humbled by privilege. So I pray. And I try to act. 

If you're interested in getting involved in refugee support, here are some links (Canada-specific):

• Overview of International agencies you can support who are involved in the Syrian refugee crisis: http://www.cbc.ca/news/trending/how-to-help-syrian-refugees-1.3215006
• Learn how you can sponsor a refugee: http://www.cic.gc.ca/english/refugees/crisis/syria-iraq/sponsor.asp#blended
• Learn about how you can become involved in Collective Sponsorship of refugees in Quebec: http://www.immigration-quebec.gouv.qc.ca/en/immigrate-settle/refugees-other/collective-sponsorship/index.html