"A Single Step" Community Fund: Half-Marathon Fundraiser
In some of Nicaragua's poorest and most marginalized communities, local human rights promoters and community mobilizers have overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles to make real and lasting changes in their neighborhoods. Despite constant material shortages and social problems like near-total un- or underemployment, community members remain undaunted, committed to taking just one small step every day to make their neighborhoods stronger.
In Acahualinca, a deeply impoverished community bordering the municipal garbage dump in Managua, that single step was the formation of a youth soccer league. For years, families in Acahualinca lived in terror as rival gangs battled in the streets in front of their home. To get their children to school, mothers ran down the street with them, shielding their small bodies from the stray rocks and bullets that whizzed by. When the violence was at its worst, students would camp out for days in the school, or miss whole weeks of class. And their neighborhood seemed destined for more of the same: chronic unemployment left Managua's young people with little hope and few alternatives to the warped sense of belonging that the gangs provided.
But today in Acahualinca, young men and women duke it out on the streets with soccer balls, not knives and guns. Local employers reserve jobs for Acahualinca's youth. And while five years ago such a reality would have seemed far-fetched to most, a few dedicated residents of the neighborhood turned one of the city's worst neighborhoods into a model community.
By organizing soccer leagues, offering prizes, requiring would-be players to turn in their guns in exchange for the right to participate, and contracting with local employers to guarantee jobs for players who showed responsibility and maturity, one woman in Acahualinca led the charge to end street violence and promote a community spirit. And while she never could have imagined the degree to which her project would succeed, while her own experiences with poverty and exploitation could easily have discouraged her from ever embarking on such a project, she nevertheless took that first step, standing up at a community meeting and announcing that she was going to start a youth soccer team.
In the summer of 2005, I worked with a small group of community organizers in some of Managua, Nicaragua's poorest communities, including Acahualinca. Their spirit is inspirational, and the passion they demonstrate as they work tirelessly in their communities, despite severe material hardship, is overwhelming.
And that material hardship is often the biggest obstacle Managua's community organizers face.
Members of Managua's District II, where I worked, have already acheived amazing things with small donations from various foreign partners. Acahualinca's soccer teams, as well as similar youth sports programs in other neighborhoods, have benefited from partnerships with groups as diverse as religious communities in the U.S. and official EU development agencies.
Despite living in poverty themselves, community leaders repeatedly volunteer their time, accepting pay only on the rare occasions when all other expenses can be covered, to put on human rights and community development workshops. From October-December 2005, for example, a small $600 grant was stretched to cover: a telecommunications course, giving community members basic Internet and computer skills; a series of sexual and reproductive health workshops; regular human rights capacity-building workshops; and support for community members working on ongoing human rights cases.
I firmly believe that members of a community have the best perspective on and best tools for strengthening their own communities, but their material poverty means that every day, Nicaragua's community leaders are struggling just to put food on their tables. To do all the rest -- to buy used shoes and jerseys for the youth soccer leagues, to buy medicine for babies born to families living atop Managua's enormous garbage dump, or even to send promising students to high school -- is a constant struggle. A few dollars that mean next to nothing to us can make all the difference in in Nicaragua.
On June 25, 2006, I'm running the Rio de Janeiro Half-Marathon in support of my Nicaraguan friends and colleagues, with the goal of raising $1,000 in small pledges to support their community work. It's my single step, one thing that I can do to begin to support the people whose vision and enthusiasm were so inspiring during my time in Nicaragua.
All that I'm asking for today is a small donation to help us create a community fund, which will support locally designed and implemented human rights and human development projects in Managua, Nicaragua. Check out the "Donate" link to the left for more information.
In Acahualinca, a deeply impoverished community bordering the municipal garbage dump in Managua, that single step was the formation of a youth soccer league. For years, families in Acahualinca lived in terror as rival gangs battled in the streets in front of their home. To get their children to school, mothers ran down the street with them, shielding their small bodies from the stray rocks and bullets that whizzed by. When the violence was at its worst, students would camp out for days in the school, or miss whole weeks of class. And their neighborhood seemed destined for more of the same: chronic unemployment left Managua's young people with little hope and few alternatives to the warped sense of belonging that the gangs provided.
But today in Acahualinca, young men and women duke it out on the streets with soccer balls, not knives and guns. Local employers reserve jobs for Acahualinca's youth. And while five years ago such a reality would have seemed far-fetched to most, a few dedicated residents of the neighborhood turned one of the city's worst neighborhoods into a model community.
By organizing soccer leagues, offering prizes, requiring would-be players to turn in their guns in exchange for the right to participate, and contracting with local employers to guarantee jobs for players who showed responsibility and maturity, one woman in Acahualinca led the charge to end street violence and promote a community spirit. And while she never could have imagined the degree to which her project would succeed, while her own experiences with poverty and exploitation could easily have discouraged her from ever embarking on such a project, she nevertheless took that first step, standing up at a community meeting and announcing that she was going to start a youth soccer team.
In the summer of 2005, I worked with a small group of community organizers in some of Managua, Nicaragua's poorest communities, including Acahualinca. Their spirit is inspirational, and the passion they demonstrate as they work tirelessly in their communities, despite severe material hardship, is overwhelming.
And that material hardship is often the biggest obstacle Managua's community organizers face.
Members of Managua's District II, where I worked, have already acheived amazing things with small donations from various foreign partners. Acahualinca's soccer teams, as well as similar youth sports programs in other neighborhoods, have benefited from partnerships with groups as diverse as religious communities in the U.S. and official EU development agencies.
Despite living in poverty themselves, community leaders repeatedly volunteer their time, accepting pay only on the rare occasions when all other expenses can be covered, to put on human rights and community development workshops. From October-December 2005, for example, a small $600 grant was stretched to cover: a telecommunications course, giving community members basic Internet and computer skills; a series of sexual and reproductive health workshops; regular human rights capacity-building workshops; and support for community members working on ongoing human rights cases.
I firmly believe that members of a community have the best perspective on and best tools for strengthening their own communities, but their material poverty means that every day, Nicaragua's community leaders are struggling just to put food on their tables. To do all the rest -- to buy used shoes and jerseys for the youth soccer leagues, to buy medicine for babies born to families living atop Managua's enormous garbage dump, or even to send promising students to high school -- is a constant struggle. A few dollars that mean next to nothing to us can make all the difference in in Nicaragua.
On June 25, 2006, I'm running the Rio de Janeiro Half-Marathon in support of my Nicaraguan friends and colleagues, with the goal of raising $1,000 in small pledges to support their community work. It's my single step, one thing that I can do to begin to support the people whose vision and enthusiasm were so inspiring during my time in Nicaragua.
All that I'm asking for today is a small donation to help us create a community fund, which will support locally designed and implemented human rights and human development projects in Managua, Nicaragua. Check out the "Donate" link to the left for more information.