3 Perspective Shifts For a Better World
Lessons Learned as an Incoming Global Health Corps Fellow
Preface
The first thing I remember upon entering Training Institute as a Global Health Corps Fellow was feeling very under-qualified . I was surrounded by fellows with doctorate degrees, extensive global health experience, and technical expertise. Most were several years older than I was. As a 22-year-old college graduate just looking for my place in the global health space, it was easy to feel intimidated by such an impressive bunch. I had spent the entire last month feeling absolutely enthralled about this new adventure as a fellow who would placed in Lusaka, Zambia working for a digital health solutions NGO called Akros. Now I wasn’t so sure that I could roll with the rest of the group. But over the course of Training Institute, my discomfort taught me three important things about the imposter syndrome sentiments I was experiencing. Before we get there though–a little bit about Global Health Corps.
What is Global Health Corps?
Global Health Corps (GHC) is a 13-month fellowship that places aspiring global health leaders from America and Africa at various organizations in Sub-Saharan Africa who are fighting for global health equity. GHC brings together individuals from a variety of backgrounds, coordinating placements in monitoring and evaluation, communications, application development, and research, among several other fields. Placement organizations vary in scope and include NGOs like the Clinton Health Access Initiative (CHAI), Population Council, Partners in Health, along with government offices in Ministries of Health. Each fellow and each organization bring their own vision to contribute to improvements in health systems, quality of care, and access. As a GHC community, we are united by the belief that health is a human right.
This year, GHC selected 32 fellows to compose the 2019–2020 class. Each fellow completes their fellowship in one of four countries: Malawi, Rwanda, Zambia, or Uganda. 16 international fellows hailed from the United States, and the other 16 national fellows were natives of the four aforementioned countries, with four from each country. Each country has a total of eight fellows that compose four pairs; each pair consists of one American and one African national working at the same organization. In this model, every fellow has a co-fellow, which allows individuals to learn from each other due to likely differences in culture, identity, and experience. For example, American fellows can leverage their co-fellow’s understanding of a country’s health system to develop a competency of the health issues a country is experiencing.
Personally, I felt inspired by my co-fellow Mulangi when he mentioned that he envisioned his country, Zambia, being a leader and an example of how integrated health informatics could change the entire landscape of a health system. In moments like these, co-fellows offer each other significant support in a year that can be emotionally and professionally demanding. Together, co-fellows form the fundamental unit of GHC. With the guidance of country managers, GHC staff, and supervisors throughout the year, fellows emerge with experience and insight to address pressing global health issues by leveraging their skills. Collectively, GHC prepares fellows to answer how and why they want to pursue careers in global health, and how they can develop as leaders while doing so.
Onto my three big takeaways from Training Institute:
Embrace Differences, Don’t Squash Them
As I mentioned earlier, one of my initial self-doubts was rooted in my inexperience in the global health sector. Delving deeper, I felt this doubt not because I did not believe in my abilities, but because I was different from most other fellows. I was still trying to learn if I had a role to play as a Biomedical Engineering graduate. For the first few days I felt hesitant to speak in group discussion because I felt like I was going to be judged for what I said. This was not good for me or for the group. I unnecessarily limited my opportunity to contribute in fear, and simultaneously prevented the addition of a novel perspective to a dialogue. Two negatives don’t make a positive here.
Towards the end of Training Institute, I tried to make a conscious effort to speak up, because I learned that my greatest strengths were my differences. In some ways, my lack of experience could prepare me to address problems more creatively than my colleagues because my ideas would not be as limited by constraints. Of course, this is not to say that my perspectives are any better than others, just that minimal experience could be a strength in problem solving in the same way that a technical skill could. This phenomenon is known as flexible learning and is often what enables children to become better problem solvers than adults in certain circumstances.
To push ourselves and our work forward, we must embrace our differences.
Using this framework challenges the traditional notion of having uniformity to minimize conflict and instead supports the formation of diverse teams in order to achieve results. We talked about this briefly in Training Institute as we covered collective leadership, which is a discipline that requires high performing teams to lead together, as opposed to a single individual making all important decisions. Often times, collective leadership is most effective when individuals from varying backgrounds convene for a single cause. In the context of healthcare, for example, clinicians, government officials, researchers, and economists must not only utilize their collective strengths, but also differences in opinions to advance global health standards.
Collaborate, Don’t Compare
Coming into a space filled with high performing, motivated young professionals, it was very instinctual to compare my qualities to that of others. Do I really deserve to be here? How can I ever compete with him/her? Why is he/she so much more knowledgeable than I am? Humans have a tendency to assess their self-worth in relation to others. Leon Festinger described this inclination in his social comparison theory, which proposes that humans compare themselves to others as a means of improving self-understanding in society. In some cases, though, this behavior can be problematic because focusing on inadequacies through comparisons can lead to lowered self-esteem and self-confidence. This form of comparison is known as an upward social comparison, and it occurs when we assess ourselves in relation to more “desirable people.” Felt FOMO about your friend who was loving Bali on their Instagram stories? That’s an upward social comparison. The Internet is a major culprit when it comes to upward comparisons, and it’s important to be aware of how these subtle behaviors can influence our mental health.
In many ways, I think the antidote to comparison is collaboration.
In Training Institute, I found much more joy when I asked people about their notable experiences, why they got involved, and how they envisioned their role evolving at GHC. This was far more productive than playing a broken record that focused on what others had that I didn’t. Through these conversations, I realized that we really had a lot in common when it came to contributing to the greater good through the lens of health. Instead of comparing myself to my fellows, I realized we could capitalize on our respective strengths to fill gaps in our awareness and collaborate to deliver on our collective visions.
Getting stuck in the comparison loop harbors negativity that can prevent us from reaching our highest potential alongside others. The collaboration loop reframes our perspective to see the best in ourselves and others.
Listen, Don’t Assume
Often times in service-oriented industries like global health, it can be easy to become overly excited about developing solutions that benefit others. For do-gooders that live for solving problems to address unmet needs or alleviate suffering, the default mode is action. After all, we feel most accomplished when we complete tasks. This can be complicated in underserved communities, where charities can often do more harm than good by acting prematurely, or by neglecting a community’s opinions.
A prime example of how action-only aid can be ineffective is found in the response to the Haiti earthquake in 2010. After the earthquake claimed over 200,000 lives, there was an outpour of humanitarian aid delivered to the country looking to rebuild lives and infrastructure. In fact, $9 billion was delivered to Haiti through private and public donations, but to this day, thousands of Haitians live without proper access to food, water, and shelter. Humanitarian aid organizations were criticized for their lack of transparency and collaboration with local communities, as very few relief efforts were led in Haitian Creole or French. In one case, camp members lodged a complaint against the way a toilet system was being built, only to find that organizers continued to build the restrooms as they originally intended. Eventually, the entire system flooded. In the context of financial outcomes, there is little to no record about what the billions of dollars were actually utilized for, leading us to question again the intentions of blind aid.
Rather than assuming what is best for communities, we can do better by first listening to their concerns, and then developing solutions with them. We learned this most clearly at Training Institute through a TED talk from Ernesto Sirolli, an international enterprise expert whose core philosophy is to “Shut up and Listen” before doing anything for a community.
It’s important to reel in our urge to act in order to maximize our ability to serve the needs of people. Listening is the first step to understanding these needs.
No matter what we do, if we can embrace our differences, collaborate, and listen, we can collectively convert visions into realities that leave the world in a better place.
Thanks to GHC for the wisdom from Training Institute. Many more insights to come on this exciting year. For now, I’m in Rwanda awaiting approval of a work permit so I can begin my work in Zambia. But that’s a story for another time.
