I get to do this because I am privileged.

I think it’s important to be clear about that from the get-go. I recognize that I have this experience available to me because I am young, I have (at least some) wealth and I have received an education. And I recognize that two of those things are largely influenced by the fact that I’m White and middle-class. I think conversations of power and privilege are absolutely crucial, even if sometimes uncomfortable, and particularly so in development work. I want to make it clear that I don’t think I am on some grand journey to change or to save the world. What I do think is that Africa will change me. And will open my eyes to different ways of knowing, and being, and doing. So much so that I don’t even really know what to expect yet. And perhaps that’s a good thing. I am actively working to recognize what I am bringing in to this experience, and what others are bringing in as well. I hope to be open and flexible, and recognize that yes, some-many- aspects of this journey are going to make me uncomfortable and are going to push my boundaries as they currently exist. This thought reminds me of a mantra we practiced last week during yoga, which is to embrace the uncomfortable. After all, that is what yoga is all about. Finding those uncomfortable positions and stretching yourself, bending yourself, and in the long run changing yourself by embracing it. That is what I hope to do- and I’ll be better for it.As the mission of the Global Livingston Institute instructs us to do, we must engage these kinds of experiences by first listening, then thinking, and only after critically engaging in the first two steps, acting. I think this is a difficult concept for many people raised in the Western world, and it is a skill I hope to improve upon during my time in Africa.I want to end this blog with another thought from Maya Angelou (who, if you can't tell, is one of my favorite feminists of all time and a true gift to the world):

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