When I was 17, I went on a trip with my friend’s church youth group to Juárez, Mexico. I hesitate to call it a mission trip in part because I have never been religious. (It was my friend’s church.) However, most of all, I hate to admit that I participated in a mission trip, that I wear the label of “Girl Who Participated in a Mission Trip,” that I have a photo like this, archiving and preserving my past self, the self who didn’t know any better, who didn’t even know that she should know better:

(Note: To find any photo evidence from this trip, I had to search Facebook for a good thirty minutes: I hid it from myself well.)
I want to make several comments about this picture, observations that reflect on that mission’s project as a whole. Our goal was to build a house for a family that did not have one. Our time frame was a week, the length of Spring Break, because after that we had to get back to school, to our real lives. Looking at this photo, you might notice several things:
1) The background shows the neighborhood in which we were working receding into the horizon. It seems to go on endlessly. Many other houses and shacks in this neighborhood were falling apart, in need of repair, or abandoned.
2) Everyone that appears within the frame of the photo is an American volunteer. Local residents of that community are nowhere to be seen.
From where I am standing now, after seven years of reading, growing, changing, and learning to be thoughtful—I realize the difference between the kind of work I did in Juárez and the kind of work I want to do for this class, and in the future.
In Juárez, we came into an environment that we did not understand. We came into this environment with a problem already identified and a plan for “solving” that problem already in place. We did not immerse ourselves in the community to find out what any of the residents actually wanted, what they thought the problems were. We did not do research on a systematic or policy level to better understand the complex and multi-layered issues that make Juárez what it is today. Juárez is a city where families do not have houses, but giving one family one house is not a solution to this issue. Homeless families are a symptom, a side effect of deeper problems—problems that extend past that neighborhood, past that city, past that country even.
Why is Juárez a city plagued by crime and poverty? To build a family in need a house might be an act of compassion, or it might be a gesture made back at oneself. Is “charity” a humanitarian action, or is it an easy way for the volunteers to feel good about themselves, to feel like they are saving the world, without actually considering what this would mean? While relief efforts have value, especially in emergency situations, I now realize that they will never produce change. They will never root out and solve problems on a systematic level. Relief efforts and “charity” will never prevent the conflicts and traumas that lead to our need for them.
Humanitarian work will not have a deep impact if: it operates on an accelerated time frame, does not involve active collaboration with the community it attempts to help, and does not value extensive research and imaginative thinking when it comes to identifying problems and iterating solutions. I want to make clear that mission trips are not the only example of this “band-aid on a bigger issue” work. For example, as Carl DiSalvo explained during his talk “Design Experiments in Speculative Civics” yesterday, 24-hour Civic Hackathons also often produce “band-aid,” short-term solutions. Working under unrealistically tight timelines, often motivated by the idea of attracting potential future employers, getting funding, or having a unique experience, teams at these events don’t take the time to consider the long-term causes of the civic problem their app is supposed to address. They don’t consider alternative or parallel solutions that don’t involve tech. They also do not receive input from community members negatively affected by the problem.
How can designers and policy makers work with communities to come up with real, long-term solutions to issues that are affecting their lives for the worse? Can we plant the seeds for long-term change on a short-term time schedule? Definitely, the idea of researching, designing, and perhaps implementing our project in the course of a semester is giving me some anxiety in these beginning stages. I am excited to move forward with my team’s project. Yet, as we continue working to turn blighted properties into something of value, I want to ensure that we are continuously touching base with real-live community members from that neighborhood. Can humanitarian work re-imagine community members as active participants in a project, rather than as people to help? And how might shifting our view of these dynamics increase the rate of effectiveness such projects ultimately have?