Commenting on a CT-linked article about Pedro Martinez's remarkable generosity to the residents of his Domican hometown of Manoguayabo, a Latino notes that while his largesse is fabulous, it's not really all that odd for Latinos, who grow up with a strong cultural sense of the need to help those less fortunate than themselves "back home". This commitment to others less fortunate than oneself is very moving.
Along similar lines, I wonder if I shouldn't go into the international development end of whatever I end up deciding to pursue as a career, because of the relative impact I am likely to have if I manage to do a bit of good. That is (assuming I go into food policy as a career) if I start out focusing on school lunches and manage to do some good in that realm, I will have benefitted kids who were getting poor food - but even before I benefitted them, they will have been among the richest and luckiest kids in the world, even if their food supply was, while seemingly endless, relatively crap.
However, if I go into the international development side of food policy and have some success, the people who benefit will be those who really need it. Not those whose lives are, on the whole, fabulous in world terms, despite their crisps-filled diet.
It's a matter of proportions and perspective, I suppose. And certainly something for future thought.
Now back to the Latino largesse
Latin American immigrants are often in a special position to do much
good with the opportunities they find in America, and more often than
not, they do much good. For instance, the total amount of money flowing
from the US to Guatemala—in the form of financial help from immigrants
to their loved ones at home—is comparative to the revenue generated by
the top industries in Guatemala.
Martinez’s case is a grand manifestation of a very widespread
phenomenon. I don’t mean to diminish Martinez’s really remarkable
generosity, but I do think that his generosity and the proportionally
comparable generosity of other less wealthy Latin American immigrants
living in the US is in part the result of social circumstances that
have no parallels in the US. African American sports stars coming from
impoverished neighborhoods have often contributed most generously to
developmental projects, but it is very hard to find someone who has
built 40 houses, a hospital, a school, etc.
A buck only goes so far in the US, but it goes a long way back in
Latin America. And the knowledge of this commits Latin American
immigrants to generous financial aid to their relatives back home. It
always strikes me as interesting that American public discourse is
plagued with references to the “American dream” when discussing the
motivations of Latin American immigrants. The way I understand the
concept, the American dream is one of wealth—a dream that is often seen
in other cultures as comparatively individualistic. I think that the
Latin American immigrant dream differs in important ways. The extent to
which immigrants from Latin America in the US are committed to giving
aid is quite remarkable, if one judges by the aid that even the poorest
of immigrants send back home. I don’t refer to figures here, and I may
be proved to have an inflated perception of the relative financial
generosity of Latin American immigrants, but I am pretty sure that the
way we articulate our dream is strikingly different from the way the
‘American dream’ is articulated in public discourse.
A few years ago, when I was getting ready to go to graduate school
in Mathematics here in the US, my undergraduate advisor confessed to me
something that only now do I understand completely: he said that when
he finished his PhD, he had a choice between being a mediocre nobody in
the developed world, and being an inspiring, consequential figure back
home—and thus he abandoned his dreams of research, and returned home to
do what he could for his country. At first I thought this was a
confession of cult of status, a confession of narcissism. There may
have been some of that, of course. He chose to go back partly because
of status, but now I see he also did so because anything you do in
Guatemala has an impact, whereas the impact that your life can have
upon your surroundings in the first world is relatively negligible.
There are many Latin American immigrants who stay in the US not
simply because that gives them the opportunity to become wealthier.
They come here to do what Pedro Martinez has done, only in a smaller
scale. They can’t necessarily go back to their countries of origin and
become important figures in the national bank—but they can help their
families out with the extra dollars they make here.
I guess the experience of having lived in circumstances of profound
social injustice marks many of us in a very strong way. Some just
happen to be in a place from which it is easier to help others, and
that—along perhaps with something of a communitarian suspicion of the
individualism of the American dream—commits them to a dream in which
social impact weighs more heavily.