To put into words the emotions that overcame me upon my first encounter with one of the communities that Rags2Riches served is one of the hardest things I’ve ever attempted to do. It was one thing to see the abject poverty, yet, it was another to think about my own life and the privileges I’ve taken for granted. I can’t sum the feeling up to simply sad, sympathetic, anger, or even a combination of the three. This was a once in a lifetime emotion that I hope I never have to feel again.

This neighborhood was filled with garbage, sewage, stray animals, crammed homes with tin covered roofs, and so on. However, it was so hard for me to accept that it was filled with real human beings. I could not for the life of me come to terms with the fact that people were forced to live here and had no way out. And what, I was so great because I was coming to “help them?” I felt so ashamed that I was comfortable living with the daily luxuries I’ve had while these people, on a daily basis, had struggles to deal with that I will never face in my life.

After walking for about ten minutes through this neighborhood, we finally came to the community center in which the community meeting was to be held. It was a makeshift living room in the homes of one of the beneficiaries. While still feeling inundated by these emotions that had overcame me, the women of the community began to show up. Being one of three white people in the room, I assumed that my presence would intimidate most of the women. Oddly enough, I was the one who felt more nervous or in awe due to how I was handling the situation while they were the ones laughing away and asking me a plethora of questions. They embraced my team and I with open arms and did their very best to make us feel at home. This dichotomy of feelings was so strange to me. I had just gone through the most eye opening and life-altering experience of my life, but then all the sadness I felt began to feel somewhat inappropriate. These people, people just like you and I, were extremely happy. Hell, probably happier than I am on most days. Of course they would kill to be in the position I was in while I would not truly like to take theirs, but that was never complained about. In fact, after telling them I studied political science they hoped that I’d become the president some day.

However, I wanted to hear their stories and not explain mine. So after the meeting was held and the survey was piloted, I began to ask unrelated questions. After talking for almost an hour with one woman, I discovered she was the valedictorian of her high school. Yes, the valedictorian. In the United States, that title would grant you an education and/or future of your choice. Unfortunately, the Philippines left much less opportunity even for the educated. Though this was her experience, she still extremely valued education for her children. This was to be the tool they would use to bring them out of poverty. She was so thankful for everything Rags2Riches had helped her achieve and for the sense of community it brought to her. All of these women were so close, and you could tell this just be spending five minutes with them. This made me wonder how I could ever complain with the capabilities bestowed upon me just by being born.

Though I felt extremely sympathetic for these women and the conditions they had to live in, I also envied them in a strange way. They were so unbelievably happy. The skills one must posses in order to be happy under these circumstances are beyond anything I’m capable of. Also, it was them who showed the confidence to begin conversations with us. In fact, I don’t even know if I can describe it as confidence since it came so naturally to them. These people are not incapable of doing big things (by American standards, that is), they just weren’t given the opportunity to. It made me realize, I am no better than them whatsoever. In fact, if they were born under my family and socioeconomic class and I theirs, they’d be the ones coming on a school fellowship to come help me. Which is why I truly feel that we should never look at poverty in the sense that, “oh we’re so smart and worked hard, that’s why we are here and they are there.” Don’t believe me? Try telling a single mom from an impoverished Filipino community trying to feed an entire family on less than one hour’s minimum wage after working a full day that you work harder than them. Hard to do isn’t it? The solution should not be to give to the poor necessarily, but instead to give the same opportunities to the poor.

I now know that my calling is to help eradicate poverty in any way that I can. It would be so regretful to look back on my life and see that I did nothing to address those feelings I had that morning of my first community visit. That is not something that I could ever forget, and will serve as a constant reminder to me that there are things in this world much bigger than myself. I know that I am not a person who will have to worry about money regardless of my career path, and therefore I need to help those who do. A fulfilling life for me will be one in which I selflessly give all of my talents towards helping others, and I by no means want to live an unfulfilling life.