INTRODUCTION
We all have those "ah-ha moments" in our lives. Those brief moments or events that shape the way we view the world and forever our place in it. For me, this moment took place in the rugged terrain of western Kenya in a little known village called XXX. Up until this moment, my experience with those in developing nations had been marked by intense memories of poverty, death, neglect and suffering. My last three months as volunteer Director interim for a small Luo orphanage had taken its emotional toll, leaving me feeling helpless in my efforts for lasting change. But it was to the people of XXX, both women and men, and I make this distinction clearly, that I attribute all my achievements since.
They called themselves the XXX(XXX), the first completely self-sustainable village I had ever encountered. They grew sunflower seeds which were used to make and sell cooking oil. They used the empty shells as food for livestock. They made bricks and fertilizer from the cow dung. They had their own re-forestation program. They even used the subsidized sale of ARVS to promote AIDS/HIV awareness. But to me, they were nothing short of a miracle, namely because they were a matriarch. I remember distinctly, walking into a barren classroom of 150 children's voices singing, "A girl can do anything a boy can do, if she is given the chance!" A tall, dark man who had seen my eyes watering said to me, "We don't want to need help. Something had to change. Us men are here to support the women, we do chores, sweep, clean- anything to help them take care of the children." This little village was far more than a ray of hope. In a country where 70% of the illiterate population is female, over half of the women are victims of female genital mutilation and there are no laws against spousal rape, RVP served as a potential catalyst for a movement that exceeded the expectations of even the most advanced nations. I left the village of Rabour with a renewed perspective on life in Africa and an insatiable desire to learn all I could about sustainable development and the influential roles gender barriers in childhood education play. The unique green business practices of RVP would also ignite my interest in microfinance and alternative energy procurement in the developing world- an interest that would eventually lead to my work with XXX and my decision to apply to LSE.
CONCLUSION
My "aha-moment" in XXX, Kenya has forever changed my perspective on international development practices and has ultimately led me to your university. It has proven to me that the developing world is far more than the needy, poverty-stricken, faces that paint our Western media, our volunteer excursions and our mind frame. My lifetime goal is to foster any and all flames of sustainable development via my academic, cathartic and professional commitment to those in the global South- beginning first with the children. Every day villagers in the developing world have taught me more than I could have ever learned from a classroom or cubicle. They have taught me, that even a young American girl like myself, can do anything a boy can do, if given the chance.
We all have those "ah-ha moments" in our lives. Those brief moments or events that shape the way we view the world and forever our place in it. For me, this moment took place in the rugged terrain of western Kenya in a little known village called XXX. Up until this moment, my experience with those in developing nations had been marked by intense memories of poverty, death, neglect and suffering. My last three months as volunteer Director interim for a small Luo orphanage had taken its emotional toll, leaving me feeling helpless in my efforts for lasting change. But it was to the people of XXX, both women and men, and I make this distinction clearly, that I attribute all my achievements since.
They called themselves the XXX(XXX), the first completely self-sustainable village I had ever encountered. They grew sunflower seeds which were used to make and sell cooking oil. They used the empty shells as food for livestock. They made bricks and fertilizer from the cow dung. They had their own re-forestation program. They even used the subsidized sale of ARVS to promote AIDS/HIV awareness. But to me, they were nothing short of a miracle, namely because they were a matriarch. I remember distinctly, walking into a barren classroom of 150 children's voices singing, "A girl can do anything a boy can do, if she is given the chance!" A tall, dark man who had seen my eyes watering said to me, "We don't want to need help. Something had to change. Us men are here to support the women, we do chores, sweep, clean- anything to help them take care of the children." This little village was far more than a ray of hope. In a country where 70% of the illiterate population is female, over half of the women are victims of female genital mutilation and there are no laws against spousal rape, RVP served as a potential catalyst for a movement that exceeded the expectations of even the most advanced nations. I left the village of Rabour with a renewed perspective on life in Africa and an insatiable desire to learn all I could about sustainable development and the influential roles gender barriers in childhood education play. The unique green business practices of RVP would also ignite my interest in microfinance and alternative energy procurement in the developing world- an interest that would eventually lead to my work with XXX and my decision to apply to LSE.
CONCLUSION
My "aha-moment" in XXX, Kenya has forever changed my perspective on international development practices and has ultimately led me to your university. It has proven to me that the developing world is far more than the needy, poverty-stricken, faces that paint our Western media, our volunteer excursions and our mind frame. My lifetime goal is to foster any and all flames of sustainable development via my academic, cathartic and professional commitment to those in the global South- beginning first with the children. Every day villagers in the developing world have taught me more than I could have ever learned from a classroom or cubicle. They have taught me, that even a young American girl like myself, can do anything a boy can do, if given the chance.