Carrie on Reparations

Government provided mud huts in a tribal village

The past few weeks Alyson and I have been focusing on gathering data for our report, which explores the impact of SHG involvement of female empowerment and the further implications of community involvement. The parameters of our report find us examining Stage 5 villages, which are SST’s most developed villages, where they have spent the most time and are confident that the village is sustainable. Although it has been fascinating to gain a deeper look into the lives of those who live in the villages, after a few weeks of visits to the same six villages, Alyson and I were ready to visit somewhere completely different. Raj, the Field Director of the Shirur office, heeded our request, and we set off for a tribal village 2 hours away.

 For the duration of the ride, Raj provided us with valuable insight into the tribal adivasi communities of India. Adivasi is an umbrella term that refers to the aboriginal population of India, who tend to live in geographical isolation in the hills or forests and are not part of the caste system. Much like the Native American community of the United States, their land was seized from them and subjected to ecological deforestation. In the tribal village we visited, the government provided reparations in the form of mud huts  to the community

 I had admired the scenery on the way to the village, which featured mist shrouded jade green hills. However, we learned that the land the huts are on is not farmable, forcing the inhabitants of the tribal hamlet to seek agricultural work elsewhere. We visited a woman whose sons and wives had left the community to partake in an unprofitable sharecropping arrangement. The sons’ children were left with the grandmother in the community who ensured they attended school. However, the school is not run properly, which is just one of a bevy a problems that face the community, such as rampant alcoholism, mistreatment of women, and subsisting on incomes that are below the poverty line (BPL). Schools in tribal villages only enroll up to 4^th grade, and as a result, if a child/parent wants to continue their education, the child often must endure a long commute to school, or live away from home in a hostel near the school. The tragedy of the lack of educational facilities in tribal hamlets only serves to propagate the enduring cycle of problems each generation faces.

Hannah on Inclusion

Like many development organizations, SST does not discriminate based on race, religion or caste. Unlike many service organizations, SST also does not discriminate on the basis of income.  In other words, their programs are not focused singularly on providing services to low-income individuals.  In fact, they take it one step further by actively encouraging the participation of middle and high-income families in SST’s initiatives.  This may seem odd, especially from a social work perspective in the United States.  With limited benefits and oppression on the mind, it becomes too easy for those of us concerned about social justice to fall into the same pattern of demonizing the wealthy, the straight, the white.  This tirade is tired.  If we social workers are all about inclusion then who are we to say that someone can’t participate because they have too much?  Finger-pointing is a waste of time.  I’ve learned from SST’s strategies that it is far more interesting to think about how to frame development in a way that gets the rich onboard (and encourages them to share the wealth).  Which makes a lot of sense when you realize that that SST is not trying to save an individual, but develop a community.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record singing its rural song, it is also worth noting that inclusion is an especially important concept in small community building.  In a city as large and as stratified as New York it may be possible to focus on providing services to specific populations, but in a community where the richest member and the poorest may live on the same street, the consequences of picking and choosing is much higher. The way an outside organization frames participation in an isolated location can make the difference in the level of buy-in they get from stakeholders. Small communities are built (and destroyed) on human relationships and SST is smart to forge partnerships instead of driving wedges. By actively working to include all members they are building a network that can sustain a village long after SST has left.

We were able to see one example of this concept in action during this past week.  We visited a farmer who, throughout his lifetime, had increased his farmland from six to fifty acres of arable land.  This land has made him a wealthy man, but his income has soared off the charts, in part, because SST has worked with him to install drip irrigation systems in his banana fields, and secure government schemes for rice intensification.  In turn and unprompted, he gives an annual monetary award to the students with the highest marks in the local government school, donates an annual sum to an old age home in the village, and paid to install a potable water source in an impoverished neighborhood.  Clearly he doesn’t need the money or the help, but what SST has done is allowed this farmer to participate in the process, which doesn’t take anything away from anyone else. In fact, it gives more.  Participation breeds ownership. Ownership breeds pride and pride in community motivates people to make it stronger. Inclusion at its finest.  Capacity building at it’s best.

Karin on Livelihoods

The monsoon rains are starting to come more frequently and the riverbeds are filling up and water tanks are growing in size. I find myself happy to see the water rising, hoping that this year the rains will be good for the farmers here. We have finished field research for our project on the agricultural initiatives of SST and I find my lens for development here is shifting more towards agriculture and the importance of developing the livelihoods of farmers.

 Tamil Nadu has an economy that is strong in the agriculture sector and in the region surrounding Thirukkurungudi, the majority of the population are linked to the land. From the small scale farmer that farms one to two acres to the larger scale farmer that cultivates from five to 20 to upwards of 50 acres, the earning power of the cash crops of banana and paddy rice make this area full of potential for farmers with some more training and resources provided. This is where SST steps in by promoting the use of new farming practices and technologies, which I wrote about last week.

 The effects on the family can seem like a small boost in annual earnings, but these earnings can mean a lot. For a small-scale farmer, he can send his children for higher education, thus bringing the dream of landing an engineering or computer job in a nearby city more of a reality. For a large-scale farmer, it is increasing yield and allowing him to purchase more land, which also requires more labor that will be done by small scale farmers who are looking for work outside of managing their own small plot. This increases the overall earnings of the community and promotes livelihoods and steps towards greater economic stability for all involved.

 Next year my field placement will be at Accion, an organization that promotes microfinance among small business owners throughout New York’s boroughs. I am looking forward to engaging with the development of businesses that will improve the livelihood of the business owner and the surrounding community. I know that I will reflect on my summer here in Tamil Nadu and remember the proud faces of the farmers telling me their stories of how they were able to send their son and daughters to college because of the assistance of an NGO helping them to implement a scheme that changed the way they did business.

Carrie on Spirituality

Carrie and Alyson with the bride, groom, and the bride’s brother/SST doctor

 In the United States, religion is kept private from one’s public life, especially in the realm of employment. Consequently, many social workers have traditionally had a tendency to shy away from addressing the importance of spirituality and religion when working with clients. Subsequently, students at CUSSW were required to complete a module which trained us to underscore the value of acknowledging how a client’s religion may interweave with their presenting problem, and how it can be a useful resiliency tool. In India, I am constantly struck at how closely interwoven the spiritual and secular spheres are. With over 80% of India’s population belonging to the Hindu religion, it is said that Hindu culture is essentially Indian culture, and the two cannot be separated.

 In India, religion encompasses all palettes of life, and nowhere is that more apparent than in work related activities. During my time working with the SST office in Sirur, there have been several occasions in which a couple social animators and the Community Development Officer have visited the local Ganesha temple en route to a site visit. Furthermore, when we visit a family in their home, we are not allowed to depart without receiving a puja, or religious blessing, on our foreheads. On the occasions that we receive the blessing, Alyson and I proudly wear the kumkum, or tumeric, dots of color on our foreheads the whole day.

 Further illustrating that religion is inescapable from work, Alyson and I had the opportunity to attend the wedding of the SST doctor’s sister, and we were accompanied by the head social animator, CDO, and civil engineer. Colleagues often attend religious functions, including weddings, with one another. Alyson and I heard our names called over the loudspeaker, and we were ushered up to the stage to perform puja on the bride. I was initially hesitant to perform the puja because it was seemingly sacreligious to do with a lack of training and affiliation with the religion. However, we were encouraged by everyone surrounding us, and I later learned that any layperson can perform a puja. I felt boosted by their enthusiasm, and performed the puja, and I will not soon forget the shy smile on the young bride’s face as I tossed rice on her head and fed her sweets. Bearing witness to the prevalence of spirituality in India, especially social work, has reminded me to not refrain from addressing the importance of spirituality in my future practice.

Karin on development gaps

During our investigation of the different project areas of SST, it is common to hear that the government of Tamil Nadu was also involved. Tamil Nadu provides more than other states in India. Government schemes are available for many different areas of public life including the construction and support of schools, the development of watershed projects, and free healthcare. As explained by some SST staff, Tamil Nadu has supportive political leaders locally and nationally, resulting in greater funding for projects than in other states. I have been impressed with the scope and depth that the Tamil Nadu government gives to development and SST’s focus on how these resources can be effectively utilized.

 Since SST is part of a corporate social responsibility initiative, I wondered before my arrival how they invested their money in the community. My experience in other developing countries has shown that NGOs often respond to a lack of government resources. All too frequently NGOs will provide aid and supply resources, not the government, which can create a reliance on the NGO. There are many examples of international development and aid that is often controversial because it involves handouts. We discussed this in my International Social Planning and Program Development course this past semester, and now I am sorting through these questions again while living abroad. The current critical discussion: is it a “handout” or a “hand up”?

 A sizable portion of SST’s work is development through government schemes. In this way they are functioning not as a handout, but as a hand-up by acting as a bridge between individuals and the government. This bridge connects people to resources while promoting their livelihoods and independence. For example, many farmers are encouraged to use drip irrigation systems that are fully subsidized by the government. Drip irrigation allows the farmer to conserve water and improve yield from their plants. SST staff, usually an agronomist, encourages the farmer to apply, which involves compiling the needed documents and accompanying them to the government office, thus creating a bridge. What ensures the success of the development scheme is SST’s staff and trained Master Farmers in the community continue to work with farmers to ensure that the implementation is successful. These steps and follow-up are essential for farmers to take full advantage of government aid and resources. This is one way in which SST’s advocacy is making an impact in rural communities.

 I did not expect that SST would be as involved with obtaining government benefits and am impressed by their advocacy in connecting the community. In the U.S., it is common in community agencies for social workers to connect their clients with government resources such as housing, Medicaid, or food stamps. This past year in my field placement, I worked with clients to obtain housing and social security. We connected people to existing government programs that allowed them to secure their livelihoods in a large and complex system. Now, in Tamil Nadu, I again see the importance of bridging the gap and the role development staff have in the process. Increasing access to public benefits allows community members to take advantage of resources available to all, while fostering livelihoods and independence.

Carrie on Animators

Social animator Angina facilitating a nutrition exhibition

This opportunity in India has provided valuable insight into how social workers here practice their craft. My exposure last year to casework management at a foster care agency required me to wear various “hats”: one day I might find myself in a courtroom with a client, the next day I would have a meeting with school administrators, to be followed by a group therapy session. All of these activities required me to be well-versed in child welfare laws, the educational system in New York City, and have direct practice skills.

 SST’s social animators have a similar scope of intersectionality that is prevalent in their work that job requires them to be powerhouses of knowledge in order to serve their village population. SST’s emphasis on integrated development schemes requires their animators to be knowledgeable in the programmatic areas that SST delivers services. In the realm of health care, a major component of the work that animators do is raising awareness about anemia in women and children, and the animators go through extensive training that is focused on hemoglobin testing. The testing is carried out during the anemia camps which take place quarterly throughout the year. In the arena of infrastructure, SST’s work also requires the animators to be knowledgeable in farming practices and watershed activities. Additionally, the core component of the job calls for effective galvanization of the community to create change, which are skills necessary for a social worker in any country.

Evaluating the differences in our social work practice has been eye-opening and I am consistently amazed at how multi-faceted the social animators work is.

Hannah on Rural Identity

When I travel I like to listen to music that is in direct contrast to the place I’m visiting.  In Mongolia it was Motown and living in Malawi it was mostly bluegrass.  Here in India I’ve been listening to a lot of country music.  With lyrics like “from her cowboy boots to her down home roots/she’s country” (She’s Country by Jason Aldean) and “Now when we first met you promised we’d get/a house on a hill with a pool/well this trailer stays wet and we’re swimmin’ in debt/and now you want me to go back to school (Did I Shave My Legs for This? By Deana Carter), the sentiment is hardly Tamil and wholly American rural poor. States like South Dakota, Kentucky, Alabama, and Montana that top the charts for the poorest counties in the U.S. (source: U.S. Census 2010) aren’t known for their bustling cities which puts some of our poorest families living on the outskirts of town. In stark contrast to the days of the Oregon Trail, rural America is no longer a popular place to be.  It’s much more glamorous to live (and practice social work) in New York City or San Francisco or Washington D.C. Music snobs everywhere are rolling their eyes, but ­­­­this week the likes of Faith Hill and Kenny Chesney got me thinking about identity.

A farmer in Venkatrengapuram

This week we traveled to several farm sites with SST.  Because they’re working within an agrarian society, agriculture is at the core of SST’s initiatives and was our focus this week, which made me wonder about rural identity here in India.  Popular films like Born into Brothels and Slumdog Millionaire exposed the tragedies of urban poverty and made “urban slum” nearly synonymous with “India,” but the particular plight of the rural poor has not made it to the big screen.  As SST focuses exclusively on rural community development, I was curious to see how people in TKI made sense of living both remotely and in poverty.

This week we spent a day in Venkatrengapuram, a dry-land farming area where SST had partnered with the local community to organize massive watershed projects.  Their goal was simple: to improve the livelihood of dry-land farmers by increasing their access to water.  Prior to the completion of these projects, the community relied entirely on the monsoon rains to supply water for the banana and rice paddy crops that are their main source of income.  If the monsoon was late, irregular or insufficient, crops failed and families were left without an income for that year.  When SST began the watershed project, 65% of the land had lain fallow for three decades and rainfall was at an all time annual low.  Poverty and forced migration for paid labor work affected nearly 50% of the population. For farmers whose families have farmed the same land for generations, the idea of selling out is devastating.  In selling, farmers were not only giving up their livelihood, but also their identity as agrarians.

In 2009, SST began the process of partnering with Venkatrengapuram.  In 2012, the project was officially completed and by the time we visited the area there was evidence of two percolation tanks that were each providing water to around 15 farmers, several wells had been constructed, and SST had aided farmers in applying for government subsidies for drip irrigation systems, agro-forestry benefits, and tractor subsidies.  For the farmers we talked to the impact had been huge.  They were able to make a profit and extend their land as well as purchase some of their own farm equipment, which cut down on rental costs.  On a larger scale, the impact is also impressive. Upwards of 75% of the land is now arable.  It was fascinating, however, that the largest impact – and the one thing that makes this project a success – is not a massive increase in income or fancy new tractors, but that migration has decreased from 45% to 25%.  People can stay on their land. They can stay who they are and they’re a little less poor.  It’s not glamorous.  The bad years are still bad, but now there’s some water. And I think Loretta Lynn and Garth Brooks, Tim McGraw, the Dixie Chicks, and all the farmers in Venkatrengapuram would agree: a little plot of land and a lot of hard work is better than any big city lights.

Carrie on self-care within the SHG

A self-help group (SHG) in Kalavandimala Village

Over the past two weeks, we have visited numerous Self Help Groups (SHG’s), and I felt confident that we had gotten a good grasp of what their purpose was and how they gave women the ability to become more empowered and financially independent. When reading about the previous interns’ experience with SHG’s, my initial assumption was the women’s Income Generating Activities (IGA’s) would be textile making, and incense and soap making, and snack making. Research states that these “gendered” IGA’s are part of the reason women’s husbands are comfortable with relinquishing some of the financial control to their wives.

 However, since the rural area outside of Sirol is used primarily for farming, the typical IGA is livestock management, followed by agriculture. We met countless women who were given loans to buy a cow or buffalo, and then the production of milk provided them with enough money to fund future livestock purchases. The ambition and hard work of these women is truly inspiring, and have redefined what traditional gender roles in rural India encompass.

 Furthermore, the women who essentially manage a plot of land or manage livestock on their own with very little help from their husbands are also still responsible for running household duties such as cooking, cleaning, and rearing of the children. I wondered how the women were able to manage the responsibilities of household duties, rearing of children, managing a portfolio of livestock/some other form of IGA, all while looking beautiful in their colorful sarees. To my American eyes, they seemed to have almost superwoman qualities, but then I reminded myself that this is their way of life and it is something they are accustomed to. As a social work student who was constantly reminded last year of the importance of “self-care,” I was particularly curious if busy Indian women practiced such a concept, which is taking some time out of one’s day, no matter how short or seemingly trivial the activity, and doing something that makes YOU happy. It is essentially taking a break from the daily grind of life, hitting the pause button, and taking a deep breath.

 In my observations thus far, I have discovered that Indian women do indeed practice self-care. Many of the social animators at SST informed me they take walks before the sun rises. Many practice yoga before their children and husbands have awoken. The other evening, Alyson and I went for a walk in the hills surrounding the local temple with the two social animators as dusk was settling, and found some hilltop rocks to rest upon. Without saying a word, the women began to meditate and practice pranayam, or deep breathing. As twilight was closing in on the hills of Maharashtra, I felt awakened by the experience.

 On our most recent visit to an SHG, we were lucky enough to watch the women play games after a nutrition exhibition. Under the head animator’s directives, the women of the SHG arranged themselves in a line and engaged in a game that I interpreted as the Indian version of musical chairs, but without the chairs. Laughter from the women was heard throughout the village as they ran for a vacant space. In the next game, two women on opposing teams race to a circle in the middle in an effort to grab a piece of cloth. Some of them women were truly fierce and feisty, and definitely put up a fight, but with joyous smiles on their faces. It was remarkable to watch, and a shining example of self-care. I pondered how my field internship next year would react if I suggested a quick game of musical chairs during Grand Rounds to inject a bit of self care into the day.

Self-care during an SHG meeting

 After the games, the animator asked me what I thought of the afternoon’s activity, and I replied that it was funny to watch and great to see the women have so much fun with it. “Yes, this SHG has no stress,” was her proud reply. I realized that Indian women have perfected the art of self-care, without any formal prescriptions of the concept. In the United States, we are constantly reminded to practice it because we always forget to take some time out of our day. Indian women instinctively practice it because it is ingrained in them.

Alyson on culturally competent research

“Dōna chai kr̥payā,” meaning “2 chai, please,” has become the Marathi phrase of the week as Carrie and I begin work on the project design. We sit in one of the conference rooms of the Herrida factory where the Pune branch of SST makes a second home and pour over research concerning female empowerment, micro-financing, and community engagement, to better form the direction and parameters of our study.  With guidance from the SST staff, Carrie and I have decided to interview the families who are active in the SHGs in order to learn more about how their involvement has affected their relationships and agency as well as contributed to their sense of self as their communities.

As the two chai arrive, Carrie and I are reviewing what we learned the previous week. The stories shared by the SHG women are at the forefront of the conversation as we wonder how their stories will be enriched during interviews and discuss the project design. What details are important to the project? With each story being so unique, we will need to be cognizant of the respectful line between informative questioning and pure curiosity.  Will their families want to share as well?  How do we create a safe space for engagement that is conducive to sharing?

The time spent this week at the factory has us remembering our respective research classes, flashing back to CUSSW and the lectures about which we were unsure how they would be utilized outside of the classroom.  With US-India cultural differences in mind, Carrie and I debate how to phrase questions and significant samples size while discussing the best interview approach for the dynamic of the villages. We know that our SST colleagues will aid us as we strive for a culturally competent project.

At the end of the week, Carrie and I chuckle over the surprise passion and fervor in our collaborative deliberations. Research has never been this stimulating.

Carrie: Week 2

The impact of any development project will be largely determined by the level of involvement/engagement from the community.  SST’s initiatives must have the investment of the citizens of the village in order to be considered a successful endeavor. In other organizations, one reason why so many initiatives fail is that the community has not invested an adequate amount of time and money in the initiative. To illustrate this, we learned that SST owns and oversees three watersheds, two of which were and continue to be successful. However, the third watershed posed challenges for SST because the community did not invest the minimum amount of money to support the project, and as a result, the initiative was halted and rather than a watershed teeming with water, there is an empty hole in the ground.

Watershed overseen by Baba

Support from the community is not limited to financing.  In the anganwadi schools (preschool ages 0-6), communities support and invest in the project with their time. The anganwadis that SST oversees rely on the participation of mothers to volunteer as teacher’s helpers, which contribute to furthering of their children’s education. The parents should make frequent visits to ensure that the school is running as it should be, which demonstrates support from the community.

 Something that SST is particularly concerned about is the sustainability of the village once they are confident they can leave the village to manage itself. To facilitate this change, SST trains people to be leaders in the community and teach them how to manage areas of development. This concept of community involvement is perhaps the most important component of the successful implementation of development initiatives because it cultivates a sense of ownership within the village. It is representative of the classic, perhaps clichéd, phrase: “If you give a man fish, he will eat for a day. However, if you teach him to fish, he will eat for a lifetime.”

 Alyson and I experienced this concept firsthand on our first day in Sirol. The day we arrived, we were immediately taken in by the neighbors who gave us dinner that consisted of rice (bhaat) and dahl (waran), which encompass the main components of the Marathi diet. The following day, Alyson and I were taken to the weekly village bazaar, where farmers sell the freshest of their fruits and vegetables. We bought what we needed, and headed home to attempt to cook our first meal. Surrounded by Indian style pots without handles and a terrifying pressure cooker, we realized we had no idea how to cook anything from scratch. Luckily for us, Apoolwa, the head social animator’s daughter, came over to teach us how to cook waran bhaat. She taught us how to turn the mystery of Indian cooking into something we could conquer. As Apoolwa, Alyson, and I sat eating our meal that we had cooked together, I realized that if you simply give two American girls waran bhaat, they can eat for a day. However, if you teach them how to make waran bhaat, they will eat for a lifetime. Or at least the next seven weeks in India.