In October 1996, when I first raised the idea of going to Zimbabwe with my friend and colleague, Eric Farmer, I hardly even knew the location of this place on the map. Now, two years later, I can barely hold a conversation without bringing it up. "Zimbabwe" has become my passion and my work. Not a day goes by without thinking about the country and my wonderful new friends halfway across the world. Because of my tremendous experience, my life will never be quite the same.
In the fall of 1996, I had just returned from an intense summer internship in Washington, D.C., where I had served as an investigator for indigent criminal defendants. This experience, coupled with my reading of Jonathan Kozol's Savage Inequalities, awakened my conscience to the inequalities across this country and around the world. While my clients and I were often the same age, the worlds we inhabited and the lives we led were drastically different. What I found most depressing was the utter hopelessness of my peers and the disgraceful conditions of their schools. I returned to UNC with the desire to better comprehend this despair and a spirit to address the issue in my own way. Ultimately, this led me to Zimbabwe.
Two of my university friends, Galahad Clark and Jeff Pike, had started a scholarship in Zimbabwe in 1995. This scholarship awards brilliant, disadvantaged students the resources necessary to complete their secondary education. I listened as they told stories about the bright, determined students they had met and chosen for the scholarship. To them, Zimbabwe was not some far-off, imaginary place. Their enthusiasm was contagious. I also wanted to feel a connection to the people, places, and culture they described. In particular, I wanted to personally meet these young scholars. I felt that it would be worthwhile to compare their outlook on life to those of my clients.
In our first trip to Zimbabwe, Eric and I had our share of troubles. Our video camera broke down in only its second day of use. A second one sent from the States arrived with the "Eject" button inoperable. Our laptop computer lost its power source. We scratched up a rental car. Once we met the first two scholars, however, our difficulties appeared immaterial and unimportant. As we listened to Codra Matambanadzo and Paidamoyo Tswakanyi discuss their lives, I was drawn to their unbroken spirit and unwavering optimism. They both spoke about growing up without a father, being chased away from school for not paying fees, and going to class without shoes on their feet. Yet, their stories were not of pity and sorrow. They were about commitment, hope, and success. They had overcome tremendous obstacles and were now on their way to achieving their greatest dreams. In that first session with Codra and Paida, I was quick to forget broken cameras and scratched-up rental cars.
Although I will begin law school in the fall of 1999, my Zimbabwe journey will not simply end. Of course, I may no longer be able to travel across the state to deliver presentations. But I will still share the stories to anyone who will listen. In addition, these students will serve as my reminder of what is truly important in life. In the competitive nature of law school and the professional world, one's heart can become more easily misplaced. I believe this experience will help me hold on to what I know and what I truly care about. Return to Main Page