One hot afternoon in Guatemala City, a young man gazed upon a woman and was never the same again. It was not her beauty that struck him. It was her desperation. For this woman lived in the city dump alongside stray dogs, rats and swooping vultures. The man stood still on a balcony and silently watched as she took off the soiled shirt she was wearing and exchanged it for another she just dug up; the man's heart broke for the poverty of his fellow man.
Andrew Simons, then a student in the semester-long Latin American Studies Program, resolved then to spend his life working to bridge the distance between North American wealth and this abject poverty. "Once you've seen it," he said,"you have no choice but to respond."
Andrew's decision was rooted in two simple realizations:
1) The woman living in the city dump, despite economic, social and geographic differences, is his neighbor.
2) Loving God requires that we love our neighbor.
Who is my neighbor?
Millions of American children grow up watching Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, singing along with the hallmark refrain, "Won't you be myneighbor?" By the time Andrew arrived in the Latin American Studies Program in the spring of 2000, he was posing a different question:"Who is my neighbor?" Andrew's entire worldview hinges upon the answer to this question, because as a Christian, he takes the command to "love your neighbor as yourself" (Mt. 22:39) very seriously.
"If you stop and think about who your neighbor is, chances are you won't like the answer," said Andrew. It's not just the people who look and behave like you; it's everyone, including the poor, near and far. "In the comforts we have in America, it's easy to not even see the needs in third-world countries. But I have. I've seen the poverty and I've seen the economic level America has been elevated to, the great chasm between. Now that I know of this,something is going to be required of me. If I didn't call myself a Christian,didn't have the mandate to love my neighbor, I don't think I'd be doing what I'm doing."
Andrew's semester with the Latin American Studies Program (LASP), offered by the Council for Christian Colleges & Universities, was spent primarily in Costa Rica with three-week trips to Guatemala and Nicaragua. The program focuses on the culture, politics and economics of Latin America; Andrew's chosen concentration was sustainable approaches to development.
For two weeks during the semester, Andrew lived with a family of five in Nicaragua. Even with the father, mother and oldest son working, together they pulled in less than two dollars a day for the family, barely enough to survive. The kids did go to school, however. "Since school buildings are not very plentiful the younger grades would go to school in the morning and then the high schoolstudents would go in the afternoon," Andrew recalled. "Two of the three brothers were roughly the same size. As soon as the first one got home from school he would take off his uniform and the second brother would put it on and then go to school. I had a difficult time coming to grips with the harsh economic situation this family dealt with in comparison to the ease and comfort of my own life."
The summer after Andrew's semester in Latin America, he worked in a biotechnology laboratory at Texas A&M University. The combination of seeing immense poverty and then immediately working with high-tech biochemistry splicing and sequencing DNA prompted him to think about the potential this level of technology could have in benefiting developing countries.
Dame un peso
"Dame un peso porgue tengo hambre y necesito comprar comida." Eating lunch at the Payan Bar in Santo Domingo, Andrew was suddenly aware of a small, withered old woman standing to his side. "Give me a peso because I am hungry and need to buy food," she had lisped, for she no longer had her teeth. Andrew, who was in the Dominican Republic at that time to help build a medical clinic for people just like this one, froze. Opposing viewpoints about the appropriate response clashed in his mind: "The only way to help the poor is through investing in the infrastructure of the developing country." "If you give to a beggar, what incentive do they have to quit begging?" "I was hungry and you gave me something to eat."
Andrew gave her the rest of his sandwich, but without any teeth, the woman had trouble biting through the toasted bread. Again, she asked for money. Finding the smallest bill in his pocket was a 50-peso bill (equivalent to $3.50US), Andrew thought, "I can't possibly give her that much money, 50 pesos is more than this woman will see in a week!" He turned to her and said, "Adios, no puedo ayudarte," - Goodbye, I can't help you - and left. Driving away, he was haunted by the look of despair in her eyes and by the feeling that he should have given more. She would be hungry again soon.
"Looking back," Andrew said, "I still do not know why I didn't help her. Sometimes I rationalize it by saying that my economics professor was right and the micro economic assistance of 50 pesos truly does not dent the multi-billion dollar macroeconomic problem of poverty. At times, I just worked harder on the clinic thinking I could still help others. I may never know why I didn't help her or what ultimately happened to her, but I have learned at least one thing. I have learned that I can show more grace. As I prepare myself to live differently, to live by grace, I ask God that when I see one of the 'least of these' on the streets, I do not forget that I am one of the 'least of these' to whom God has already shown grace."
And so, with the "least of these" in mind, Andrew forged ahead with his calling to spend his life improving conditions for his neighbors, the poor. Desiring greater resources for the task, he applied and was accepted to Harvard University.
From Guatemala to Harvard
It has now been two years since Andrew watched the woman change her shirt in the Guatemala City dump where she lived. Andrew has come and gone from Guatemala, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic and El Salvador since then. If the woman still lives, she most likely has not moved from her dwelling place among the thousands of other people, wild dogs and rats. If she has died, it was without ever having seen a waterfall, mountains or trees.Though he never knew her name, Andrew has not forgotten her.
In a matter of months, Andrew will climb into the elite world of Harvard academia for a masters degree in public administration/international development. There, he will study the many complex issues involved in taking a genetically enhanced crop to the developing world.
"Whatever I end up doing after school it better end up helping people like the woman at the dump," Andrew said."I don't know what that will be, but if I am not helping people my plan has gone awry. My two biggest fears about going to Harvard are the pride that could easily come with going to one of the best schools in the country and the danger of losing myself in the ivory towers of academia and thus losing sight of the people I am ultimately trying to love."
Andrew Simons graduated from Taylor University, Upland, Ind., in 2001 with a bachelor of arts in biology and minors in Spanish and business management. He is currently completing a six-month stint with Samaritan's Purse in El Salvador, rebuilding shelters and homes for earthquake victims. He begins his first year at Harvard University in the fall of 2002.