I began my journey as a planner with big hopes and big dreams. However, I wasn’t ready for the emotional toll that can some times come along with this profession. Last year, my experience during a government upgrading initiative in Haiti taught me the essence of planning and provided me with invaluable wisdom that I can now carry throughout my career.
My greatest lesson was learned while walking with a group of foreign students and leaders who had just held an outreach program on emergency preparedness on a local radio program. Their project was a part of what became a controversial government initiative on tourism for this particular area of Haiti. I was also a part of this government initiative that sought to draw on one of Haiti’s virgin isles for tourism purposes. This effort was intended to generate income for the government as well as for the locals within this community where opportunities for work are extremely limited. At the same time,, rumors of eminent domain (where private property can be claimed for government use) quickly spread in every other conversation. This created a heightened level of tension among the residents of the island and immense suspicion of anyone who entered the community.
After the radio feature on storm safety, the group of foreigners and I began heading back to our hotel. Since I wasn’t used to this particular area, I decided to let the foreign leaders lead the way. I then got nervous even though one of the group members claimed to have done the route before. Still. I couldn’t help but think, ‘Why was I listening to him when he just got here and I have been here for over a year?’ Furthermore, ‘Why wasn’t I familiar with this route?’
Even though I had been working within this community for over a year, attempting to generate awareness and promote community buy-in, opposing forces to this project worked overtime to create doubt among the local population. That doubt created havoc like no other. There were no shorage of newspaper articles, blog posts, and campaigns against this government development – entirely based on fear. Over time, local constituents began to distance themselves from the project. Thus, in my mind, getting lost was really not an option.
We eventually made it onto the main road (the making of said road still boils my blood, but I’ll perhaps save that for another post) and sure enough, I quickly confirmed that we were totally out of our way. ‘Dang it, we’re lost. There are pissed off locals that have been brainwashed by a genius group opposing my work and I have a bunch of foreigners with huge **s backpacks roaming unknown territory.’ This was not good.
Right then, we ran into a group of men standing around and staring at the group as I trailed behind them, temporarily out of sight. In Creole I heard, “Oh you’ve come to take our land, huh? We won’t let you take our property!” My group, not understanding, smiled, tried to say, “Hi” and kept walking. As I turned the bend, the men spotted me.
I will never forget the menacing looks and the vulgarity that came out of those men’s mouths. Somehow, I wasn’t scared. “Doesn’t she work with them?” I heard one of the men say. ‘Why yes, yes I do.’ “You thief!” exclaimed another. “You are just stealing money!”
‘What money? The money I have not even been paid yet for the last three months even though I have been risking my life, reputation, and sanity?’ This accusation in particular struck a nerve and I almost snapped. That was until I saw a familiar face within that crowd who called out to me to say, “Hello.” That was all I needed. He was a respected local leader and immediately able to stop the group of ignorant young men. With my head high, I said the sweetest, “Hello,” lied to the non-Creole speaking folks about the exchange that just occurred, and kept it moving. Internally though, I was fuming. ‘How dare they?!’
Yes, I get it.
When working within communities, clearly conveying critical information that will directly and indirectly affect community members’ lives is very important in obtaining their support. I don’t blame this particular community for the fear that was cultivated based on the opponents of this tourism initiative. That fear, however, later translated into ignorance and as a result, community members who chose to oppose the project ended up destroying property, threatening lives, and pushing away potential investors. This all stemmed from their feeling left out. Partially, that’s my job. I was supposed to figure out a way for everyone to feel comfortable, included and aware of the initiatives of the government … hence the radio broadcast for example. Despite my diligent attempts over the course of that year. Major fail…
This feeling of failure permeated throughout my being until I was approached by a man who worked in one of the few commercial establishments on the island. He wanted to learn how he could participate in the change. His reasoning was, “I am tired of slaving here. Since there isn’t any competition, I must accept the way things currently are.”
‘A ha! Someone who is actually aware of what we’re working on! We really are trying to improve their lives and someone gets it.’ He proceeded to tell me about a man who donated his property to the government initiative in order for it to be developed so his grandchildren could see that there is future on the island where they can work and live.
At that moment, I was flooded with a blend of emotions. Firstly anger. ‘I hate his situation. I pray something extremely fruitful comes out of this government endeavor.’ Eventually, thankfulness. ‘I am thankful that some people can see the vision and want to participate actively.’
Today, my team is in the community’s good grace. The community overall is still nervous about the change, but they certainly feel more included. ‘Whoo hoo!’
What does this all mean for me as a planner?
I am grateful for the trials that came with our project because it has helped me grow as a practicing urban planner. As a planner, I plan for the betterment of people and their communities – nothing else. Yes I will face hardships and push back, but everything I do is for the betterment of the group as a whole. I can’t please everyone, but I plan for a future in which most individuals will win (I once said this at a job interview and I don’t think they liked my answer. I truly still believe it). I have learned that I have to be a host of compassion. Sometimes I may want to just tear people’s hair out, but I choose instead to show compassion so that I am able to understand them better.
What does this all mean to me as a person?
Be honest. Honest work holds more prestige than dishonesty. People respect you when you display integrity. Be firm. Don’t let others drive your reaction and stand by your beliefs. Having had this experience, I have not lost faith in the big hopes and dreams that I set out with as a planner. I am also not oblivious to the challenges that may come. What is different though is that now I know how to plan through the opposition.
For that, I am empowered and I am grateful.
About The Author: Sonide Simon
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