Three years simultaneously feels like a mere blink of an eye and a lifetime ago. The trip to Haiti was one unlike any of us expected, and the memories and experiences left a mark deep in my heart.
That mark didn’t always seem like a good thing, either. It wasn’t until two years after returning, during last year’s campaign, that I ever wanted to talk about our experience there outside of with those closest to me. In the weeks that followed the trip, I remember spurts of sadness when I opened the fridge full of fresh food and anger towards my family when they tried to give me presents on my birthday, which fell a few days after we returned.
It wasn’t about the fact that I had food in my kitchen at home; it was about being able to actually picture and put names and stories to the children I had held and played with just days before who didn’t, bringing me a deeper and more poignant perspective that was hard to shake. Once I could put mental images to abstract acknowledgements, they didn’t feel so easy to ignore.
In psychology, we learn about the concept of schemas: mental representations of ideas and objects that help us organize new experiences – like building blocks of knowledge. For example, if a child learns that their pet with fur, four legs, and a tail is a dog and then sees a cat, their schema of what a dog is may cause them to mistake the cat for a dog. In this case, their schema would have to accommodate to form something new.
Schemas are cool in concept and important in childhood, but as we grow, they come with challenges, such as over-simplifying the world or putting biases on what we choose to pay attention to.
This summer, I’m working on psychology research, and I recently came across an article about schemas. The article found evidence to support the idea that schemas in adulthood are harder to form, but adults who did have to accommodate schemas experienced mental growth in ways that are rare to see.
Mission trips can turn our worlds upside-down because they are filled with sights and experiences that completely undermine the mental schemas we know. I remember the shock and confusion I felt when I saw guards armed with machine guns standing outside simple grocery stores, children seamlessly sharing one pair of shoes to get down a path with rough terrain, and drops of dried blood scattered across the floors of the hospital we toured. I remember the fear I felt when I saw people sparking a revolution with fiery roadblocks and angry determination in their eyes, trying to earn back a basic need for survival that had been taken by those elected to protect them.
But as the article suggested, these new experiences don’t have to equate only to sadness or confusion as our schema would initially suggest. Instead, our brains will naturally find ways to adapt these experiences and become even stronger because of them.
To me, that’s why it is so important to continue to keep our stories and the stories of those we met during our 11 days in Haiti alive. It can be uncomfortable or painful to acknowledge that many things we take for granted are things that many will never experience or have access to, and it should be. It isn’t fair, and I’ve had to come to accept that I’ll never have the answer to why I got to be born into a place and with a family that never has to question if we will have food, clean water, or access to education, but just a few thousand miles away, most every child will. That discomfort, however, is what gives room for growth – for our mental building blocks to break down and be built back up in a broader and sturdier way.
When I look at the current situation in Haiti, it can be hard to say with honesty that I have hope. I want to have optimism and believe in the hope for the future, but looking at this past year’s events alone makes that difficult. Sometimes optimism without basis is just a foundation for disappointment.
What I can say, however, is I believe that change and growth come from opening our minds and our perspectives to the world around us, and by reading this and the other blogs in our campaign, you are starting on that journey. Knowledge is power, and that power becomes ineffective only when we stop learning or using it.
Philippians 2:4 reads, “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
Every great movement and change in our world has begun with a story and a vision for the future. By reading, reflecting, putting ourselves in others’ shoes, and sharing these stories, we are actively changing our minds to grow and be a part of the solution.
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
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