Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 106

“We had a big discussion whether to raise him in Africa or...

“We had a big discussion whether to raise him in Africa or move to the states.  We both grew up in Ghana.  But I got my PhD in West Virginia, so moving to America was an option.  The job opportunities would certainly be better there.  Both of us are professors, and you’d probably laugh if you knew what we got paid here.  Healthcare would be better too.  You don’t hear of people dying in America because they can’t find an open hospital bed.  But despite these things, we decided to raise our son here.  Because he’d never have to think about the color of his skin.  We never have to explain what it means to be black.  Or the rules of being black.  One day in West Virginia I got an Amber Alert on my phone.  All it said was: ‘tall black male.’  I was the only one in sight so I nearly panicked.  Then another day I was walking back to my dormitory.  I’d just finished teaching a course.  Someone drove by in a red truck, threw a hamburger at my head, and called me the ‘N Word.’  It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon.  I don’t want to explain that stuff to my child.  It’s exhausting to be conscious of your skin all the time.  You either become militant or you become defeated.  And I understand why it happens, but extremes of anything aren’t good.”  
(Accra, Ghana)

“My mother had a lot of problems in her life, so I grew up...

“My mother had a lot of problems in her life, so I grew up without her.  It was a difficult childhood.  Everything that I’ve accomplished came from the kindness of others.  My first angel was my grandmother, who let me live with her.  My second angel was my first grade teacher.  Her name was Madam Felicia.  I had no confidence when I met her.  I thought I was dull because I never did well on my examinations.  But she saw greatness in me.  She taught me how to study and think.  Then in fourth grade I met my third angel, Madam Faustina.  She was also my teacher.  After hearing my story, I think she decided to take me as her son.  She promised to support me as long as I worked hard.  She grew me up.  She taught me the Bible.  She paid for my books and school fees.  I’m in university now, but even yesterday she called to see if I needed anything.  I’m currently studying to be a lecturer.  I’m taking three different majors.  I want to help people.  It’s only natural because of all the people who helped me.  I feel like there are so many people out there who can do great things, but are doomed unless they find someone to help them.”  
(Accra, Ghana)

“My parents didn’t have any money, so I began living with my...

“My parents didn’t have any money, so I began living with my uncle when I was fifteen.  For years he treated me like his own son.  Anything I asked of him, he would give me.  We played music together.  We sang in the choir together.  But when he met a new woman, everything changed.  He suddenly decided to stop providing for me.  I couldn’t buy myself food or clothes anymore.  I felt betrayed.  So I snuck into his room and took some money from his drawer.  His new girlfriend caught me.  And she told my uncle when he came home.  I cried when he confronted me.  But there was nothing I could say.  I knew that I had to leave the house.  My situation was desperate.  I had nothing to eat.  I moved in with a friend, and some days we’d share a single bowl of curry.  I was forced to figure things out.  I began to work harder.  I found a job as a cleaner.  Now I’m studying to be a chef.   I’m twenty-five years old, and for the first time in my life I’m standing on my own two feet.  I haven’t spoken to my uncle since that day.  But I’m going to see him in a couple weeks.  I realize now that I was too old to be depending on him.  I felt entitled to his generosity.  And when he took it away, I betrayed him.  He wanted me to become a man.  So I want to tell him that I understand.  And ‘thank you.’  And ‘I’m sorry.’“
(Accra, Ghana)

“I had some experience with abuse as a young child. Victims...

“I had some experience with abuse as a young child.  Victims are shamed in our culture, so I couldn’t talk to anyone.  I had to deal with it myself.  I had to grow out of it.  I tried to cope by reading books about the human brain.  I learned how to heal, and move on, and not be bitter.  Only later did I discover that all this was something called ‘psychology.’  I only wanted to get to the point where I didn’t feel shame anymore.  And the more I learned, the more I became determined to feel comfortable with sex.  I joined sex forums online.  I experimented.  I had threesomes.  Eventually I learned so much that I decided to become an educator.  I’ve moderated about fifteen discussions so far.  I call it: ‘The Sex Talk.’  I’ve spoken at church groups.  I’ve spoken at schools.  And it’s taken a lot of courage.  Because people in this country think that if you’re speaking about it, you’re encouraging it. But I think secrecy is what’s harmful.  Why not explain sex to kids?  We show them how to do everything else.  They need to know that these feelings are natural, and that they have a brain to keep them in check.  Either we educate people about sex, or they’ll be confused by it.  And if they’re confused by it, they’ll be shamed by it.  And if they’re shamed by it, they’ll be controlled by it.”  
(Accra, Ghana)

“I’m on the way to buy soft drinks for my mother. I also...

“I’m on the way to buy soft drinks for my mother.  I also fetch water, and sweep, and help her wash clothes.  She calls me ‘boss’ because I work so hard, but I love to help her because she cares for me so much.  She buys me clothes.  She reads me storybooks.  She sings me gospel songs.  She helps me with my homework.  She gives me medicine when I’m sick.  One time she baked my friend a cake because his parents couldn’t afford any presents.  I’m going to buy her a house one day. She’s very dark and beautiful.  I really have a wonderful mother.”  
(Accra, Ghana)

“My husband is a mechanic, but his business is slow. It’s not...

“My husband is a mechanic, but his business is slow.  It’s not enough.  I’m selling this so my children can go to school.  I want them to go above me.  I want them to be a great someone in this country.  When I see them happy, I feel happy.  Every time I pay their school fees, they tell me: ‘Mommy you are the best mommy.’  So I’m out here all day in the sun.  Then I go home, I cook, I bathe, I put them to bed, and then I go to sleep.  I’ve been sick with malaria this past week.  I haven’t been able to work.  My husband wants me to rest but the kids are beginning to cry from hunger.  The stress is too much for him alone.  When I was lying in bed, I just kept praying: ‘God, help me go sell.’  But every time I went outside, my fever was too much.  My body felt too cold.  And I had to go back inside.  Today is my first day back to work.  I woke up with no headache, but it’s so bad right now.  There’s pain all over my body.  I’m just hoping to sell enough to buy tomorrow’s supply.”
(Lagos, Nigeria)

“The first time I was offered a journalism job in Nigeria, the...

“The first time I was offered a journalism job in Nigeria, the newspaper owner suggested that I supplement my income with bribes.  He told me: ‘I’m giving you a platform.  Use what you have to get what you need.’  I knew then that the rumors were true.  Journalism in this country was corrupted.  There was no idealism.  Reporters were writing stories for money.  And even more damaging, they were killing stories for money.  I didn’t want to participate.  I felt it would be more ethical to just find a corporate job.  But in 2008, I was given the opportunity to manage a new paper founded by Nigeria’s only Pulitzer Prize winner, Dele Olojede.  The paper was called Next.  And we tried to change things.  We hired young people who were untainted by the culture.  Half of them were women.  We paid them well and we trained them well.  Ethics came first.  Accepting gifts was absolutely forbidden.  Our paper survived for three years.  During that time, we broke major stories every single week.  We exposed all sorts of corruption.  But we were targeted for our success.  Our reporters were detained.  Our board members were threatened.  The government leaned on our advertisers, and they withdrew one by one.  Eventually we were forced to close.  But for three years we set the pace.  We created a mold.  And I believe we changed the media landscape.  Investigative journalism is stronger now.  Many of our journalists have gone on to start amazing publications of their own.  The paper may have been short lived, but I know it had an impact.  Revolution is too strong of a word, but we definitely shook the table.”
(Lagos, Nigeria)

“I want to live a happy life. I’m tired of living a poor...

“I want to live a happy life.  I’m tired of living a poor life.  I’m trying to save money for school but nothing is working.  I’ve left home three different times looking for work.  The first time I found a job as a housekeeper.  But every morning when I got dressed the man would try to touch me.  I was only seventeen.  He wouldn’t even stop when I threatened to tell on him.  His wife blamed me for his attention. She beat me severely.  There were bruises all over my body.  She didn’t even allow me to eat.  But I tried to stay because I wanted to go to school so badly.  Then one morning he tried to rape me in the bath, and I finally ran away.  When I found a new housekeeping job, the same thing happened.  This time it was a pastor.  So a few weeks ago I switched to a cleaning job at an art gallery.  But they just fired me for speaking to the visitors.  I don’t know why this always happens to me.  It makes me so angry.  I get mad at my parents for being poor.  I get mad at my friends for going to school.  When I see their graduation pictures on Facebook, I just start crying.  I’m already twenty years old.  I should be finishing school, but I haven’t even started yet.  But everything has it’s own time.  Hopefully my time will come too.”  
(Lagos, Nigeria)

“My uncle was an engineer. He’s the one that exposed me to...

“My uncle was an engineer.  He’s the one that exposed me to reading.  He’d get a book, finish it, and give it to me.  By the time I was twenty I’d read over one thousand books.  I learned how to live from the characters I encountered.  The first book I ever read was The Passport of Malam Illia, and to this day it’s the reason I never take vengeance.  And there’s plenty to be angry about around here.  Most of my friends are poor.  When we were growing up, police would come to the slum in the evening, pick up my friends, and beat them for no reason.  It made me so angry.  But books also taught me that we have the power to change things.  We can fight for lower fuel prices.  We can fight for better medical facilities.  I’m actually heading to a protest right now.  We haven’t had electricity in this slum for ten days.  Why?  Because last month we protested and now they’re trying to punish us.  But we won’t sit down.  Too many poor people don’t realize their own power because they’ve been subjugated for too long.  They’re like the chickens I keep in my house.  Every time I whistle, the chickens come.  Even when I don’t have food in my hand.  And that’s how people think.  They believe that only government has the power to give.  But anything the government has power to give, we have the power to take for ourselves.”  
(Lagos, Nigeria)

“My father died young, but my mother was well-to-do. I was an...

“My father died young, but my mother was well-to-do.  I was an only child and she took care of me well.  She promised me at a young age that she’d send me to Oxford University.  So I studied hard.  My best subject was English.  I wanted to be a lecturer.  But my mother passed away the same year that I graduated high school.  She’d been sick for so long.  Our assets were depleted from the hospital bills.  There were no jobs in our village, so I came to the city looking for greener pastures.  I taught myself to sew, and now I make men’s suits.  It’s not the type of work I wanted to do.  I’m tired all the time.  Business is slow.  Life is expensive.  It’s frustrating when you work twelve hours a day and can’t even feed your family well.  We don’t have a television.  We don’t have a radio.  Because everything I have left, I spend on their school.  They’re good students.  I encourage them to study hard.  I always tell them to focus because I want them to go far.  And anything I can remember from school, I teach them myself.”  
(Lagos, Nigeria)