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Confessions of a White Savior: Peace Corps and the White Savior Complex (Pt. 3)
Pt. 3: Reflections on White Saviorism In Practice
In Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 of this series, we examined the white savior complex as a whole – what it is, its place within the field of ‘voluntourism’, and how Peace Corps as an agency fits into this classification even as it tries to resist it.
I have received a lot of praise from current and returned volunteers who have told me that they also harbored similar sentiments about their service and the Peace Corps (PC). I have also received a lot of criticism from those outside the Peace Corps. Some pointed out that I had discussed how white saviorism is imbedded in PC, but not why that is necessarily negative, or what effects it has on both Westerners and the population we serve. I was hoping the answer would be clear from my first post, but I was also saving some topics for a more personal discussion that I will dive into in this post. I will use this final piece to highlight my own experiences in the community I live in to be able to give concrete examples of the negative effects of the white savior complex – but also how the situation is quite a bit more nuanced than I have previously presented.
It was a fairly normal day during the start of my service – I was at the health center in the patient intake area on the second floor as usual, sweating even with the fan on as the hottest part of the day drew close. Our staff began to trickle home for lunch as we wrapped up seeing patients. As I was packing my educational materials away, Mr. Samnang came upstairs after his meeting with the village health volunteers. He gave me a smile when he spotted me. Mr. Samnang is a middle-aged man, small and compact with kindly eyes and square glasses. He is also a highly educated man and works for the Cambodian division of an international reproductive and maternal care organization that supports our health center through education and outreach activities. He sat down across the table from me, exclaiming that he needed to practice his self-described rusty English and wanted to chit-chat with the foreign volunteer. We had met once before, although only in passing during a previous meeting where I had dropped by to meet the volunteers.
‘I am so happy you are here in Cambodia,” he begins. “We really need your help.”
“Oh, ha ha. Thanks,” I reply, somewhat uncomfortably.
Funny he says that, I think, because he doesn’t know anything about me or what I had accomplished so far (which, at that point about one month in, essentially only includedexisting and trying to figure out what was going on around me – feeling very overwhelmed and very underqualified). He proceeds to ask about how I like living in Cambodia – to which I reply positively - and then he begins to bemoan all of the problems in Cambodia as compared to ‘modern’ countries such as my native US.
“The main issue is the Khmer people themselves”, he continues. “They are so lazy, not like Americans or Europeans.”
In my head, I cringe. Faced with this sentiment for the first time, I grasp for a good reply to try to counter his position.
“I’ve met a lot of very hardworking Khmer people”, I feebly squeak out.
In my head, I add: Women who wake up before the sun to start cooking for their breakfast stand, or ladies that spend hours and hours on household work and have numerous short-term hustles to support their families. Men who spend long, difficult days out in the fields, herding cows, or chopping wood. Children who go to public school part of the day, take additional private classes the rest of the day, and also find the time to earn extra money to fund their studies.
My host mom: rice farmer, cow herder, chef, financial manager, lime seller, head of the household, community wedding helper.... I could go on.
But it was as if Mr. Samnang didn’t even hear me. He just shook his head.
Surprisingly, this is not an uncommon view for many educated Cambodians to hold about their fellow countrypeople. I’ve heard this narrative repeated by multiple people in various higher-up positions throughout my two years in the village.
This is the message I have been receiving, distilled:
You, a foreigner, are better than our own people because you are white and come from a wealthy nation and therefore are smart and hardworking. Without your help, the Cambodian people would not be able to succeed in solving their own problems.
What!? Where does this attitude come from?
Cambodia has the second-highest number of NGOs in the world - somewhere near 4,000 registered organizations. After the Khmer Rouge genocidal regime of the 70’s and the ensuing decades-long conflict, many international NGOs and foreign aid rushed in to help rebuild the country and establish a new democracy – and they never left. Foreign aid has been in place for all of recent memory for the vast majority of Cambodians. Therefore, many Cambodian people tend to assume (most of the time, correctly) that any aid is the result of outside assistance rather than their own government – whether that is immediate crisis relief, legal help, health programs, new school initiatives, etc.
Throughout the last few decades, the majority of the international community in Cambodia has continued to further this narrative - large international NGOs come in and continue to give handouts, or permanently stationed missionaries that claim their God, their way of life, is the only true way. Media that exploits and exaggerates the poverty and negative aspects of Cambodia rather than showcase the incredible people and deep cultural heritage. Unsustainable development that is done for (not with) the people, and without passing down important skills that allow them to develop skills to solve their own problems rather than rely on outside help.
When a people are consistently shown that help is given by foreigners, that the Western face is the one associated with aid and leadership rather than locals, it’s easy to see how this attitude of western superiority can develop.
Here is small example portraying this attitude that I have experienced in my own village. When I was working with my friend Mayam, a local village health volunteer, on a small home garden project in the community to increase food security and fresh vegetable consumption, one of the village women we worked with expected that we supply all of the materials and equipment for her to start her garden. Apparently, that’s what the agricultural NGO that came through a few years back did. The woman insisted, even after I explained that we had no funding for the project, that we purchase the all of the supplies and equipment for her to work her own garden. She must have assumed that I had some deep source of money to dip into. She refused to understand why she would have to contribute any of her own personal funds. In the end, myself and Mayam, my counterpart that I organized and led the training with, ended up splitting the cost of the most necessary supplies evenly from our own (limited) pockets, borrowed tools from others in the community, and asked participants to bring their own supplies as well.
Bless this amazing women (Mayam, my counterpart) for being willing to contribute some of her own funds for the training in order to partially accommodate our participants.
In the Peace Corps, we are taught to ‘lead from behind’. In practice, this looks like allowing local leaders to direct and be the face of the development efforts rather than the American volunteer themselves. The volunteer helps with the behind-the-scenes work, involving their host country counterparts in the process so that they learn the skills as well.
As much as I have tried to achieve this in my own work - always co-planning and co-teaching lessons at school with my local teacher counterparts, having my health center assistant director take the lead in facilitating trainings, allowing my village volunteer counterpart to run the cooking demonstrations, co-planning a grant with my health center director with a great deal of input from all beneficiaries - the heart of the matter is this: I am a white girl in rural Cambodia.
This means that, because I do not look like, or am, Khmer, I will always carry the assumptions of villagers that I am better, smarter, and work harder than my local counterparts. No matter how much I allow my counterparts to take the lead and shine, people will always see me behind the scenes and assume that I am the leader and the mastermind behind the work. They call it ‘my’ project, or ‘my’ lesson – even though I actually work together with other locals. Actually, none of what we have accomplished would be remotely possible by myself. It’s only thanks to my extremely hardworking and dedicated Cambodian counterparts and their connections to the community and abilities that we have been able to do what we do. However, people seem to gloss over that fact and just look towards me, the foreigner, the white girl.
All of these skilled local educators volunteering so many hours and people still be picking me out in the photo like 'thanks so much to our incredible foreign volunteer and leader for all of her hard work and dedication!'
I don’t have any special skills, experience, or ability that should automatically earn me that honor. Instead, here is an idea to chew over: for all of the training, time, and effort it took to prepare me to do this work, that money could be stretched much further by creating training programs for local leaders and changemakers, and it could get results in far less time than it takes to train an American because they already have the local connections and contextual knowledge.
That being said….
Please don’t get me wrong here. I love my work in the community, I love the people at my site, my friends and my counterparts and host family. I am extremely grateful to be given the opportunity for deep cultural exchange and learning and international health experience. My service has given direction and passion towards my future career and helped shape my worldview. There are innumerable personal gains that I have gotten out of this experience. I also, at this point, feel fairly competent in my work here and can see that my counterparts and I have made progress in encouraging behavior change and creating opportunity for better health outcomes.
Seriously, endless love for these people and my whole community.
Remember the women who asked for us to just buy her the supplies and equipment for her vegetable garden? Well, she ended up ultimately investing in her own equipment after our great encouragement and physical help with setting up the garden, and made enough money selling her produce every day at the market to invest more in her garden – adding a motorized water pump from her pond to the garden, row irrigation, etc. – and has plans this year to expand it further. Would she have been so motivated and invested in the garden had she just been given the tools and supplies by us and not had to invest her own money into starting it? It’s hard to say, but based on the outcome from the previous organization that came in a few years back (that is to say, she did not keep up the garden from before), I would say no.
I, and many other volunteers, Peace Corps staff, and those who have worked with volunteers, find that we often do impactful, sustainable work with our local counterparts and make real, person-to-person change.
There is also real value in cultural and knowledge exchange on both sides. Through the Peace Corps program, local people build new skills – such as in health education, new teaching methods, project facilitation skills, etc. – and open their mind to a different way of living and seeing the world via the American volunteer. Some may be inspired to reach higher, keep learning, and give back throughout their life because of their relationship with the volunteer. On the part of the volunteer, serving in the Peace Corps fosters understanding about different ways of life and cross-cultural relationships that is so necessary in the era of globalization. There are valuable seeds being planted for the future in both directions.
Best friend, partner in crime, counterpart on our big hygiene project. We've learned so much from each other.
HOWEVER, is my being here ultimately a positive or a negative thing for my community? Does my contribution have enough value to outweigh the perpetuation of the white savior complex on the local people – to encourage and persuade Cambodians that they have the resources and the capability already in-country to begin the difficult work of solving their problems? Or does it exacerbate the existing colonialist narrative? Can the funding that goes into volunteers’ training and development be spent in more productive ways, or do we have intrinsic value for cultural exchange as foreigners and energetic young people?
These questions will always be more important than my own experience and what I personally get out of my time in the Peace Corps. Honestly, I don’t have an answer. What I do know is that I would not be grappling with these questions nor learning in-depth about the ethics of international development if I were not here with the Peace Corps in Cambodia right now. So, take what you will from that.
Would I do it all again? Probably - but with more relevant education and experience first.
A final note:
My writing has sparked a few thought-provoking discussions from those both inside and outside Peace Corps about how the development aspect of PC seems to be a façade for its larger purpose as soft American diplomacy and modern, well-disguised colonialism. I would not consider myself an expert, or even well-versed, in foreign policy, and therefore am going to leave this topic outside the scope of my writing but I appreciate and encourage discussion.