by Arena Phaphilom

Does learning about photography make your life better? If you’re 18, and have already been homeless, and in foster care, and been through major family disintegration—does using a camera or participating in a photography program make some kind of tangible difference for you?

That’s the central question for a community based photographer, and the organization that works with him or her. And it’s a hard one to answer.

I wanted to know how programs that work toward such intangible goals as inspiration, engagement, and increased self-worth measure their success. Since I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Joseph Smooke and his community based photography program with Fresno’s “The kNOw,” I asked him about how he and his collaborator Mai Der Vang have handled evaluating their work.

This term, they tried a new system. They put together a list of questions that they asked in the middle of the program, and then asked very similar questions again at the end. They asked the questions both on paper and in a discussion. It turned out that asking the questions halfway through really contributed to the program in a way they hadn’t anticipated. The evaluation itself prompted the students to think a little more deeply about what they were doing, and why. For Joseph seeing that increased self awareness, even in the students who hadn’t engaged very much, was meaningful.

He told me, “In the final session that I did last week, I went around and I asked some of the evaluation questions. And some of the kids said, ‘You know what? I was just plain lazy, and I just didn’t do it.’ And they wouldn’t have said that a few months ago, and that was really cool.”

Of course, there were students who said the opposite as well. “Others talked about how inspiring the class was for them,” said Joseph, “and how in each session they got more energized and inspired by it. And you could see that in the work too.”

“We start each session by getting together in a room and going through all the photos. And that last session, the first couple I looked at, I was so disappointed. I almost told Mai Der, I’m just going to go back to San Francisco, because this [whole program] just didn’t do anything. But I kept looking at them, and then I saw the pictures from the kids who really did put in the time…Oh my God, it was so extraordinary! They really pushed, and they did amazing work. Just amazing work.”

The evaluations are also a chance to learn about the kids—how they are doing, what their lives are like. In this particular evaluation, one of the questions asked how kids’ families reacted to them taking pictures. Many of the students responded by saying that their families didn’t know they took pictures or were not interested in their images. On the one hand, at that age my parents didn’t know everything about me either. But on the other hand, whenever I had something tangible to show them, like a photograph I had made, I was eager to, and they always seemed interested. So if I were facilitating this workshop, that small bit of information would become a point of reference for me, a moment where I could understand a tiny bit more about how my students’ experiences differ from my own.

In the end, you can’t really know if this learning experience is the one that helps a student tip the scale toward happiness or success. But I think both community building and education are just a series of many modest revelations and connections. It seems to me that a good evaluation helps to demonstrate that these moments took place, and meant something to the people who experienced them.

Have you had experiences evaluating intangibles like this? I’d love to hear your perspective. Email me at eliza@photophilanthropy.org

Established in 2008, the Freedom to Create Prize is a celebration of the courage and creativity of artists around the world who use their talents to promote social justice, build the foundations for open societies and inspire the human spirit. It is open to artists in all creative fields. Each year, US$125,000 in prize money is awarded across three categories: Main, Youth and Imprisoned Artist.

Freedom to Create (www.freedomtocreate.com) is a global movement of creative people who are changing the world.

To apply for the prize, click here, or visit the Freedom to Create website for more information. The application process is open until August 15, 2010.

I asked Maria Valdez what she likes to write about. “Well, I write poetry. And I write about the system. The CPS[1] system. Because I’ve been in and out of it a lot,” she said. “And I write about my mom. Because she passed away when I was two years old.”

“I tend to want more than I have,” she said. “But I think taking pictures I’ve learned that what I have is enough, you know? When I go around and take pictures, it’s like, ‘Look at everything that I live on and everything that I have!’”

That statement startled me—how true it is! Sometimes, looking is having—that’s why we love pictures so much, because they give us experiences, relationships and objects. They help our imaginations stretch father.

“There are some things that you can’t change with photography,” she told me. “But what you can change is the littering, the trash…everything that you can see. Like graffiti.”

I asked Marcus Vega what impact he sees photography as having on the group of students as a whole. “It’s grabbing everybody,” he told me.

“Like when I come here, I get to escape from my daily life,” Marcus said. “It just cancels out everything. It’s like a whole new environment.

“With photography, it adds on to the tools that I’m equipped with to tell my story and what it is that I see around me. It’s another outlet.”

One of the questions I had for the students was how they thought the program impacts their community as a whole. Each of them told me that the kNOw’s program helps people learn more about what’s happening all around them.

Marcus said, “With the kNOw, basically, what we’re doing is we’re informing the community about what’s going on. Because everyone’s off doing their own thing. And it’s good to see someone else’s side of it. It offers a whole different perspective, a whole different view. Like what people usually ignore–it gives them a chance to sit back and really see it.”

This kind of work also builds relationships. Miguel Martinez described how people will come up to him and say, “You write for the kNOw?!” or “I saw your article!” In a way, it gives people permission to talk to each other, and to talk to each other about difficult and meaningful issues.

Jaleesa Vickers has written some incredibly challenging pieces about her experiences, including essays on self-harm, racism, depression and bisexuality. When I asked her about what kind of reaction she’s gotten to her work, she said, “For the articles that I’ve been writing, because they’ve been so personal, usually it’s been shock. But I kind of like that reaction from people, because it gets them to think.”

She approaches photography with the same mentality. “Just like writing, I like to get people to think. To think about what I’m taking pictures of—usually, my community: what it needs, what has happened to it.”

And the benefit? “I think what we’re doing just gives other people a greater sense of community,” said Jaleesa. “Because they’re so wrapped up in their own lives, what we do helps them know what’s going on around them, if they don’t have the time to see that. I think that’s the major benefit from doing all this.”

There are great images in the world. There are pictures that move you to tears, or to joy, or that seem to lift you up. But community-based-photography recognizes that there is another beautiful aspect to photography—that the process of making pictures builds relationships and makes people happier. You don’t have to be a famous photographer for your pictures to be powerful. And whether it’s used in communities that are strong or communities that are struggling, photography is a remarkable tool for bringing people together.

Says Miguel Martinez, “It’s just a real interesting, fun thing, taking pictures. I really cannot put it into words. When you get one good shot, you’re like, ‘Wow, I’m going to keep going.’”

In case you missed it last week, here is a slideshow of a few of the kNOw’s photos for 2010.

Thank you Jaleesa Vickers, Marcus Vega, Maria Valdez and Miguel Martinez for talking with me!

As always the kid at PIO school are happy to see visitors, especially visitors than offer them help and friendship.

The day was very hot and the visitors were obviously not used to this intense heat, as their accompanying teacher told me, ” they are used to learning in controlled air-conditioned classrooms, this will certainly be a good learning experience for them and open their eyes to how difficult it can be for some people to get an education”. After a tour the school and its facilities the kids started to play games, a favourit pastime for all kids and one that seems to overcome boundaries of language and race. One of the Young people took up the task of organizing games and what a great job she did and great time was had by all.

The Afternoon ended with the children from PIO giving a display of Apsara dancing for the visitors. The children at PIO always look forward to receiving visitors to their school and the experience always seems to be positive for both visitors and the children of PIO School.

I have wanted to go Guatemala for many years after hearing of its colorful people and lush landscapes. Being a photojournalist, I didn’t want a vacation. I wanted to get inside, to experience the place in a deeper way. Fellow photojournalist and longtime friend Barbara Ries and I teamed up and contacted a couple of non-profits to see if we could offer pro-bono photography and video for them to use to increase donations and awareness for the families they serve.

We connected with Mayan Families, a small non-profit working with indigenous people in the Lake Atitlan area, about four hours from Guatemala City. Through education, community programs and construction projects, Mayan Families works to improve lives of struggling families and individuals while being sensitive to the ongoing traditions of the indigenous culture.  The program is run by Australian native Sharon Smart-Poage, a caring, calm and good-humored soul. She has a great affinity for the Guatemalan people, has adopted two Guatemalan children and employs over 35 local residents.

Our goal was to tell a story that showed how Mayan Families has a direct impact on the local community. Smart-Poage introduced us to the dimpled smile of Claudia Jona, an 11 year-old Mayan girl who has lived a difficult life and has just recently started to go to school, well behind most children.

Claudia’s story, like most stories of impoverished lives, is heartbreaking and complex. Her mother committed suicide when she was two. Abandoned by her father, she was left with her half-blind grandmother, Andrea. Mayan Families found her in rags and provided her with a sponsor that would support her schooling and buy her traditional clothes she could wear to class. Claudia was thrilled. She had been so sad and angry to watch the other kids go to school while she had to work caring for other people’s babies at wages so meager it wasn’t enough to provide her with daily food.

We first met Claudia and her grandmother in their small hillside hut. It was a primitive setting with a dirt floor, no electricity, running water or stove, only a shared wooden bed frame without a mattress. The encounter was a bit awkward as we were introduced as photographers, which prompted them to stoically pose for the camera. But it was only the beginning and as she changed into her one white ruffled traditional blouse we sensed her new found pride.

The next day we visited Claudia at school. She was all smiles in class, happy to make the most of the gift that she had been given, a chance for a better future through education. Standing head and shoulders above the other children and almost twice the age of some, she rested her arms around them as she shouted out answers to the lesson. She concentrated on the sentences in her book even though her belly was empty and her toe was sticking out from her shoes that were too small for her growing feet.

I’m not sure at what moment it was but I had started to care for this sweet young girl. I wanted to buy her shoes; I wanted to hug her. Was it her infectious laugh or her dark shining eyes that drew me in? It didn’t matter; I just cared.

Being journalists, we are trained not to get too close, to be objective. How can you be objective when it comes to a suffering child? But, here, I am not working as a journalist. I am a volunteer.  I have permission to care.  I have permission to give.

Barb and I were moved into action. Something we hoped our photography would do for Mayan Families. We went to the local market and purchased sandals and a traditional peach colored blouse for Claudia. We donated a hope chest to her, built by another volunteer teaching local boys carpentry skills.

On our last day with Claudia, she spoke about her past in her native tongue, Kaqchikel, because she did not know the Spanish words to describe her pain. She cried. She told us most days she only has one meal a day, some beans in the morning and if she’s lucky a tortilla with salt in the evening. And then I cried. I had permission.

Copyright Fazal Sheikh, “Minal Sleeping” from the project Ladli

Fazal Sheikh is an artist and activist based in Zurich, Switzerland. His work has been widely exhibited, in institutions ranging from the Tate Modern to the Princeton University Art Museum to small huts in rural India. He has collaborated with numerous foundations and non-governmental-organizations, and he has won, among many other awards, a MacArthur Prize.

I asked him to do an interview with the PhotoPhilanthropy blog because he approaches collaboration, strategic partnerships and accessibility in a way that I find very inspiring.

I began our interview by asking how Fazal made his way to photography. He told me about his transition from ceramics to photography, and about how he figured out what to focus on while doing a Fulbright project in Kenya. He was there at a time when a huge number of people were fleeing Somalia and Sudan and seeking refuge in Kenya. So he traveled to the refugee camps, in the north.

FS: It seemed such an obvious thing to do, this simple act, but others had not approached the elders of the community, to ask for their willingness and permission. So I realized that was a very simple and direct way to begin working.

To visit a place, with an extreme vulnerability—which you have when you arrive in such a situation…I felt that I didn’t quite know how to render it. In fact I felt very intimidated about the idea of even beginning to photograph.

I traveled that first time with journalists and photojournalists—they weren’t inhibited at all about beginning to work and move through the camp and make these images. And I think that was not my sensibility. I was fearful of the idea of trespass.

And over the years, since then—that was in the early 90’s—I’ve started to realize that this fear that you have when you first arrive in a place is a good thing. Because although you may not know how to render the place, you’re also open to what it has to offer you.

And in that regard, the act of collaboration is kind of essential, because if there is any strength in the work I think it’s largely borne of what the people have given to this process.  They have said, look, this is the thing that’s interesting about our community. You may have read such and such, but we feel that this story of this person is important. Or, we’ve got this problem that nobody’s talking about.

EG: How does the way you make a picture relate to your goals as an activist and as an artist?

Well, I’m not very grand in terms of declaring that I’m going to single-handedly change any given issue. I think that kind of heroism is a bit overvalued. I think the best that we can do is begin to nurture a conversation.

And so your priorities when you’re making an image come through very clearly in the images that are produced. I’m very careful about the nature of trespass and I’ve opted for very formal portraits in the notion that it gives the person the chance to confront the camera: to confront me and by extension, the viewer.

And I think that, for me, that has value because it kind of levels the playing field.

You may have images that are made in a more photojournalistic realm, which do garner funds for these aid organizations, and I think they probably do that very effectively, probably much more effectively than do mine.

But, having said that, I think that it’s important to expand the vocabulary. Because the notion of just giving money to something to assuage your guilt is a kind of hierarchical relationship, wherein I as the giver am always above the person who is the recipient of those funds. And I never have the notion that I could be in that position, so I don’t adjust my behavior in the world to keep that from happening in the future.

But I think that’s a subtler and perhaps more complicated interpretation of what making images means. I wouldn’t like to dismiss those other kinds of images, I’m just not particularly comfortable making them myself.

And I can’t get away from work that is in sync with my own sensibilities. If you spend all this time in remote places, you’d like to be making work that you can live with, that you can stand by.

In the war photographer or photojournalist there’s always this degree of heroism. And I think there’s not much that’s heroic about going to a place to live for a month amidst people who live there for decades. You know. That’s heroism.

I think that the best thing you can do is just be receptive to what people have to tell you; be a kind of a vehicle—not a grand vehicle, but just somebody [who can] go and respectfully listen.

EG: I want to ask you about the Human Rights series. It seems to me from watching you over the last few years that your partnerships have become more sophisticated and complex.

FS: I hope I’ve become a little more sophisticated!

Initially, I think it was around the year 2000, I was a little bit unsettled by the idea that, in Afghanistan, I made a book that cost, I don’t know, 60 or 80 dollars, far beyond the reach of affordability for someone who was in the book. And I thought, well, wouldn’t it be interesting to try and make work that would be a little bit more accessible, and disseminate it, distribute it in a more democratic fashion?

So, although I continue to do the books, I also try to engage projects which allow that information to be filtered out, usually free of charge, and sometimes even going to people who don’t expect to be receiving the material.

EG: How do you do that?

FS: Well there are many different ways and I’m not always sure how successful they are. Some are more politically motivated: I did a piece called Ramadan Moon, which I did in the Netherlands, wherein we distributed I think 1,000 copies of that book. They were mainly distributed to politicians, lawmakers, the media, and governmental officials in the Netherlands, because it was about a kind of impropriety in their handling of immigrant cases.

But more recently, for instance…with the two Indian volumes [Moksha and Ladli]…we produced a series of posters, with the Open Society Institute—the Soros Foundation—to be distributed to 1,000 institutions in India. Women’s rights groups, universities, places that could house a set of posters and then mount an exhibition if they so chose, and then the posters would also remain in whatever archive was receiving them.

Again the idea was that you could make something free and accessible and in this case very political because it traversed the region from early life through old age and what it means for women in contemporary Indian society.

These are all experiments, but some of them are more effective than others. You have to accept that perhaps 30% of those that are received, people don’t really engage with, because it comes as a surprise often. But on the other hand, the poster series has had hundreds of exhibitions from it. Again, places that never would mount a proper exhibition; in rural areas, sometimes just a local hut, outside, taped up on the walls.

So to engage different facets of working: I’m happy and proud that the work is shown in museums–it also goes to university museums where you can engage with students. But having said that, it’s nice to imagine that people can look at the books on the internet or they can see a poster exhibition in rural India.

EG: How do you deal with giving people copies of pictures?

FS: It depends on the project. In the early projects I worked on I used Polaroid film, and these were people, generally speaking, who had never been photographed before, so the act of this collaboration and formal portraiture was well-orchestrated in the camps.

And then I would take the books back. And on several occasions I’ve used the books, years later, as a means by which to try and trace people, for instance in the Somali camps. And then more recently, let’s say in Vrindavan, which is the city of the widows, going back and forth. I mean I was revisiting the same people over the course of a couple of years, so I would either give them pictures then, or come back with pictures, or send the book when it was finished.

It’s important, wherever possible, to make somebody understand what the act of documenting really means. When you ask somebody for their permission, do they understand what it means if they are from a really rural area, that their image is going to be in a book or in an exhibition or some such thing?

And on occasion I’ve failed in that regard, because they are giving their testimony as a kind of catharsis and expecting it, in a way, to be brought forward, because they were claiming their story. I’m thinking more of the Somali images, one component of which were these voices of women who had been assaulted.

And I was concerned at the time that somebody would be reduced to that one moment of trauma in their lives, and so I didn’t publish them, and only published them years later when I did the second book. It was called A Camel for the Son and was about, essentially, a decade of life on the borders. And then I realized, in fact, if somebody has been strong enough to endure and to overcome such trauma, maybe it’s important to honor that, you know? And that I had in some way erred in not publishing their stories.

There are times when someone offers a poignant story and you have to be sensitive to when it’s appropriate to bring it forward, and you also have to be aware of where your own inhibitions or inabilities lie. As much as possible.

EG: I was looking at A Camel for the Son and noticing that you’ve had it translated into Somali. And has that made a difference? Has that changed the way you’ve been able to interact with the subjects and with other people afterwards?

FS: That’s hard for me to really judge. It was, for me, essential that it be in the language that they could also access; even on the internet it’s in their language. And I try to do that. I tried to do that also later, in the Indian volumes. Again to make things accessible.

In general it’s very difficult to mark a tangible impact of these things.

But I think that’s not so important. I think the best thing you can do is to put your work out there in a respectful manner, and, of course, hope that you’re not working in a vacuum. Which, I mean, I guess I’m confident enough to say I don’t think I’m working in a vacuum, but I also don’t want to declare that this work is certainly going to impact the situation in a certain way.

EG: How have you selected your projects?

FS: The early projects were very much based upon this dual narrative: one was the document of the place and the people, and the other was a kind of exploration of my own heritage, whether it was in Kenya with the legacy of my father; or, after working on that for several years, I went to work on the piece about Afghanistan, which was also exploring the legacy left me by my grandfather, my namesake.

And after that I think I’ve been drawn to things that are related to me in a more subtle way; sometimes an emotional, psychological resonance. Particularly issues which are not given a great deal of attention by others.

I think if you’re going to spend so much time and emotion dedicated to something, you want it to be something you really care about and something that hasn’t been attended to in a way you think might be useful.

So, for instance, the ones that, at the outset, you might say are less directly linked to me and my history would be Moksha, right? Which is a story about a town to which widows migrate when they lose their husbands.

But for me this was interesting as a challenge, because I wanted to make a piece that, when one looked at it, you’d imagine that it could only have been made by a woman. So not only to forge bonds across a religious, cultural, social divide, but also even to reach across gender. To explore the idea that maybe it’s possible to make a piece…in which you can meet somebody on a human level that transcends your gender divisions.

And I think a lot of the emotional tone of that book is very much in sync with some of my internal history, which is less readily described.

EG: How did you find out about the widows?

FS: This was sort of unusual for my working process, but I had read a small piece many years ago about this place to which widows were migrating, and I just thought it was kind of fascinating as an idea: the notion of exile, solace, hope all mingled together.

And so I determined to make one trip to visit the community. And, as in most of my projects, I never know if there’s going to be a means by which to make something. But I think that it’s worthwhile just going at first to see, and to explore whether you feel comfortable there.

It was the same thing as going to the African camps, in a way. You go with this extraordinary interest but also with this vulnerability of not being sure if you can do anything. And like I said—I don’t know if I said that clearly enough—but that moment of being really vulnerable has a great value, because it implies an openness.

It’s a moment of dread and fear for me each time.

But almost every project that I’ve worked on, I’ve had that feeling wherein you’re confronted with things that are new, that you don’t understand, that are at times intimidating. But though you are vulnerable and even on the defensive, you’re more malleable. You carry some of your priorities forward and they meet what the place has to tell you.

Fazal Sheikh’s upcoming projects involve a mid-career survey of his portraits and the final installment of his trilogy of books based upon India. Loosely speaking, he says, that volume is about heaven.

Eliza Gregory writes a weekly blog for PhotoPhilanthropy.

Phymean hands out the eggs

In the UK there’s an old saying,”an Apple a day keeps the Doctor away”, this has been adopted here in Cambodia for the children of the PIO school, but using eggs and a daily multivitamin suppliment tablet.

Vitamin Content of Eggs: Eggs are rich in vitamin B, especially vitamin b12, vitamin A, vitamin D, vitamin E and vitamin K. It should be noted that very few food items that contain vitamin D, egg being one of them.

Health Benefits of Eggs: The nutritional value of eggs makes it good for immunity, strong vision, treatment of macular degeneration, cataract treatment, skin care, nervous system, strong bones, and blood formation. Recent research has also shown that consuming eggs does not lead to increase in serum cholesterol levels.

The Kids Love Them

Phnymean Noun,Exec Director PIO with Dr.Robert P Renner

All is not lost when people such as these give their time and resources so readily to help children that are most at need. Two agencies. and individuals, that fit together admirably to try to meet some of the needs of children of less than fortunate circumstance are People Improvement Organization (PIO) and Kids International Dental Services.(KIDS)

A Dental Volunteer with (KIDS)

Dr.Bob (Dr. Robert P. Renner),is a retired Prosthodontist, a professor Emeritus at The University of New York at Stony Brook and he leads a team of volunteer dental professionals and people from all walks of life that want to assist in providing the services. It certainly an international team and during my short visit as a witness to their work I met members from Japan, the USA and the Netherlands.

Dr Renner explains the reasons for the existence of his team are to ”provide pro-bono dental care to impoverished children in developing countries. There are children in the world who will never have dental care that we take for granted unless we provide it. Most of these children have never seen a tooth brush”. We have treated the children at (PIO) over the last few years and will continue to do so as long as our services are required. We have recently started visits to the Philipines also. This is dentistry at it most basic, conducted in ”Mash” like circustances with very few home comforts but the kids get the treatment they so badly need and the young professional on the team benefit also by gaining experience and confidence.

” We provide dental care to children in orphanages where they come after being abandoned by parents, family members. They are forgotten children of sex slavery, dead parents of AIDS, gang violence, street accidents. We have seen and treated over 1000 children during our stay in Cambodia”.

Volunteers on the KIDS team

The People Improvement Agency (PIO) set up by Phymean Noun, to help educate children on the dump site at Stung Meanchey,Phnom Penh, in Cambodia is just one of the places that gives us a platform to do our work, the children attending the PIO school and the Orphanage it runs close by get dental treatment and free toothbrush.

” Most days we treat between 100 to 200 children. On the bright side, the cost of providing basic care to these children is less than $3 per child for treatment that would cost over $30 per child if performed at the health unit. So far we are personally committed to providing regular care to these children. We try to encourage young local dentists to partner with us and understand our American spirit of volunteerism. For a dental program in a developing country to be successful one must partner with a local agency and involve the local dentists/government”.

” Educating the children themselves and helping them learn the importance of daily dental care will in the long term reduce the number of dental problems in the future and will hopefully be passed on to the next generation”.

Kids waiting patiently to see the Dentist

” Obviously our services cost money and we are always grateful for donations and support. Anyone able or wishing to donate something, no matter how small can do so here (DONATIONS) or if you would like to offer your service as a volunteer why not visit out site at KIDS ”.

Little girl talks to the Dentist

I got asked that several times before I left. No, it’s not in Africa, South America, or an island. It’s actually in Southeast Asia, tucked in right beside Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam.

WHY are you going there?

That was the question that immediately followed. It’s not really a popular tourist destination, unless you’re Angelina Jolie. And it’s not at the top of any lists for relief work. So why Cambodia?

For me, it was the cause that first drew me in. I had heard of “human trafficking” and couldn’t believe it was happening in our world! When I did a little research, I found out that trafficking in persons, or human trafficking, is the fastest growing criminal industry in the world. Across the world, traffickers supply millions of human beings for use in forced labor activities such as domestic service, or work in rice fields, sweatshops, cocoa plantations, or mines. Some are trafficked into the commercial sex industry. Trafficking touches every single nation – America, Europe, Africa, Asia & more. There are an estimated 27 million people enslaved in our world right now. And human trafficking is the third most profitable illegal activity, right under arms dealing and drug trade.

Needless to say, my world was shaken. I couldn’t stand that people were being victimized like this! I couldn’t just sit idly by in my comfortable home in suburban America while women and children were being raped for profit and using products made by slave labor. I had do to something.

It’s not an easy cause to immerse yourself in, so I began just reading and researching and educating myself on the topic. I found through my research that Southeast Asia was a hotspot for not only human trafficking, but commercial sexual exploitation and sex tourism. I discovered that Cambodia is a sending, receiving and transit country for trafficking. Cambodians are most commonly enslaved for the purpose of commercial sex, begging, domestic work, fishing, construction and adoption. Victims often believe they are being recruited for purposes such as domestic work, or work in a restaurant. Most victims are deceived or, in a smaller number of cases, kidnapped, and forced into sexual slavery. Commercial sexual exploitation is the engaging or being forced to engage in sexual activity in exchange for immediate payment in money or other valuables. It is sometimes referred to as prostitution or “sex work”. One study estimates that the lowest statistics for the number of prostituted persons in Cambodia is between 40,000 and 50,000, and the highest is 100,000. Sex tourism is travel for the purpose of having or purchasing sex. It is estimated that US-based websites advertising worldwide sex tourism bring in over $150 million each per year. Cambodia, along with Southeast Asia, is a destination for this activity as well.
I desperately wanted to not only do something to prevent this crime from happening this war-torn and impoverished country, but more importantly help rescue and restore the victims that this injustice left in its wake. I found an organization that ran a home in Siem Reap, Cambodia, that helped girls leave the life of prostitution by providing a safe place that they could and earn money. I was so moved by their work, I began to make plans to visit. In August of 2009 I traveled solo across oceans and continents to this tiny home in this tiny city and immediately felt at home. I was greeted by open arms of girls and women who had experienced more pain than I could fathom. It was humbling and encouraging. I knew that my two weeks there was only the beginning of a lifelong journey working towards ending modern-day slavery in my world.

No one person can bring can end this injustice. But working together, we can bring it down. The first steps including awareness and changing public perception. Educate yourself on the topic and educate others. Learn to recognize the signs and signals of trafficking activity in your own backyard. Get involved with a local organization and join them in their efforts. Be a voice for the voiceless and speak up for the victims who cannot speak for themselves. Together, we can make slavery history.

Before the earthquake, knowing that Haiti had a number of about 380 000 orphans, Orphfund was in contact with two communities and was planning a project for 2010 to help vulnerable children. Now, children in the “hatless country”, as Haiti-born author Dany Laferrière calls it, are in much greater need for assistance than ever before. According to the United Nations’ Children Fund, an estimated 1.26 million children – approximately 700,000 of them school-aged – have been directly affected by the earthquake in Haiti. This is a frightening number and it is difficult to estimate how long it will take before this age group recovers from this personal and national trauma caused by the earthquake.

At the moment, world organizations are working towards reuniting families that were displaced or separated during the earthquake. This colossal task is crucial within the chaos and aid needed. This is especially important for young children who are left alone, without knowing their address or their relatives, thus becoming at high risk of trafficking. Let me emphasize that Orphfund does not specialise in emergency or immediate aid. We rather bring help children by building and rebuilding of communities following horrific events or crisis, such as this one. We have projects in Cambodia, Tibet, Sierra Leone and Kenya, and our next projects will take place in Uganda and Haiti.

We are planning on going to the Leogane area in about one year from now, with a team of volunteers. In addition to the building of schools and orphanages, many ideas are in the talks, such as farming and tree nursery projects. However, at the moment, the situation on the ground is far too chaotic to have a detailed idea of what our project will consist of. We will know more details as time unfolds within the next months.

In the mean time, we are raising as many funds as possible among people and hold fundraising events in different parts of the world, so that we will be able to help as much as possible when the time comes. ALL funds received are going to be 100% used for the rebuilding project.

I am sure that some of you readers have already generously donated to charities providing aid and relief for immediate needs. Good job!
-If you did NOT donate for Haiti yet, I strongly encourage you to do, and by helping our initiative.
-If you did already donate for Haiti, I still encourage you to squeeze in a few more dollars from your pocket, to help this rebuilding project, because MANY funds will be needed to truly help this contry.

For donations (there is NO minimum amount, any amount will be greatly appreciated!), please write anneso.orphfund@gmail.com and I will explain to you how to donate, according to your country.
Also, if you are interested in helping or if you want to know more about our projects or about us, send me a message to the above email.

Thank You!
Anne-Sophie Cardinal, co-Director of Orphfund Israel, who is watching this world right now and thinking that Haiti will need help beyond words, to get back on track… (but with your help, we can do it!)