“Our impact is greater than the number of people served.”
This quote hangs on Lauri Ogumoro’s office wall. She snipped it out of a Catholic Charities magazine awhile back and it has been there ever since. She even made copies and distributed them to rest of the staff, too.
It is good to remember that if we are tempted to become discouraged at how little we accomplish. How much can a staff of 14, assisted by about 4 part-time volunteers per month, even do? The need is so great and we only have finite energy, time and resources.
If the pace of the workday ever slowed down enough and we had an opportunity to sit down for a good long chat, I would be able to get some good stories out of Lauri about the people she has been privileged to serve. She is in touch with many of them, even years later, and some even call her “Mom Lauri.”
“It is very spiritual—this experience of coming close to individual people. Each one deserves to be listened to and heard. Each one has their own dignity.”
When I ask her if she ever grows disheartened by our limitations, she shakes her head. “No, that’s not how I think about it at all.”
“You know,” she explains, “it’s like that saying: You may be only one person in the world, but to one person, you are the world.”
For those we assist, it really can mean a world of difference to have an ally, or an advocate. For each woman who is trying to care for her children while trying to survive a violent spouse (or partner), it is a comfort to have a shoulder to cry on, even if she cannot find the strength to leave the relationship. More than that, for those who do decide to take hold of the full breadth of their rights, it can end up being the difference between living in pain, suffering and fear—or having a chance to break free and to completely rebuild their lives, and those of their children.
Or, here is another scenario: When a father faces a late paycheck, he is rarely alone in his crisis. Sometimes there are elderly parents or relatives (beyond just his wife or children) who are impacted if he qualifies for temporary rental assistance. Each one of them benefits, if only because the family is then able to stay together and survive the threat of an eviction. It can literally be the difference between having a home, or being homeless.
Of course it is not as if Karidat is the one and only organization invested in trying to help the poor of our island communities. And the services we offer might be specialized but they are in no way comprehensive: no single agency fulfills all the needs of all people. That would be impossible. On Saipan, the Salvation Army outreach invests in cooking hot lunches for people, and makes up plates for them to take home. Empty Vessel does their share by providing the needy with clothing and household items, or school supplies for children. CARE is still hard at work to provide housing in the aftermath of Soudelor. Karidat does not compete with these other agencies, we simply do what we can for those who ask for help.
Just as we all try to do our share to meet the varied needs of individuals, so too the individuals themselves exist within interconnected networks and relationships. And just as when one member of a family or community suffers together, with the effects rippling through their families and communities, it is just as true that everyone gets caught up in the wave of joy when someone finds hope and healing.
For Lauri, and the rest of the Karidat staff, there is hardly anything like the moment when you receive good news about a client. Like when someone who struggled for years and finally, finally, gets a placement in housing that is safe and affordable. Or to hear that a client who was smuggled into the country by human traffickers has finally been awarded their “special victims” visa, according to U.S. laws.
“We get a cake,” Lauri tells me, “and we have a party!”
