I’m writing this evening on my way home from the Dominican Republic.  I spent the last several days learning about some education and ministry opportunities and visiting the factory we’ve been partnering with for production since last summer.

Some of you know me personally and some of you I’ve never met – I hope that changes some day!  But, those of you who know me, know I’m typically very factual, very honest and rarely flustered, for lack of a better term.  I find myself in a different space this evening.  This has been a hard week and I want to try to share why. 

Do you know that the Dominican Republic shares the island of Hispaniola with Haiti?  I didn’t until I started working in Haiti a decade ago – we’re being honest here, right?!  Don’t get me wrong, the DR has it’s challenges and there are amazing people doing amazing work to care for people.  But compared to the situation across the closed border on the same island, the DR is paradise.   I flew into Santo Domingo last week practically in tears as we neared the island and I could see Haiti but couldn’t go there.  It was heartbreaking to stare at the shores of a country I love and haven’t set foot in in over 5 years.  And yet I live in tension because I love Haiti but it’s not my home.  I can go home.  I have friends who can’t.  Friends who don’t only miss visiting, they haven’t been home in years.  Tonight I will be in my bed, near my family and that reality isn’t lost on me.  My pain is nothing compared to theirs.  But even in longing for home, all of us who work in Haiti but live in America are the “lucky” ones because we have options and opportunity.  We’re not living on high alert, constantly worried about our families, listening to reports of what roads are safe to drive and dreading the next phone call.  Man, we live in a broken world, don’t we?

And so, I landed in the DR and spent several days observing and learning and then visited the factory we’re sewing with.  I measured garments and talked about production challenges, goals and objectives.  I planned for production while simultaneously sending WhatsApp messages talking about how we get moved and back to work in Haiti.  The desire of my heart is to send fabric containers to Port au Prince.  To flow yards and yards of sustainable fabric from South Carolina to Haiti and receive back perfect garments made by hands who love their work, love their co-workers, love caring for their families and love making things that you love to wear.  And I ended up in a bit of a pity party – this really shouldn’t be so hard!  It’s just not fair!

And then I got an email with a blog post from from my dear friend Kayla of Rosie’s Boutique – you can read her whole blog here but don’t miss this…

“…we promote fair trade and fair wages, yet it still seems unfair. You know, the realities of the world. The fact that people still don't have access to clean drinking water. The fact that babies will die from super preventable things, simply because there wasn't a hospital to care for them. The fact that people sleep in small huts with no electricity, no warm beds, no sense of safety.

 My parents always said, "life isn't fair," but now it all just kind of feels like a cop out. Life isn't fair for a lot of reasons that are out of our control, but what about the things that are in our control?

 We have the technology, resources and money to eradicate world hunger, yet....

We have doctors, vaccines and medical advancements to save precious lives from so many preventable things, yet....

We have machinery to drill wells and smart engineers to design sewers & roads & all sorts of fun infrastructure, yet....

We have these insane amounts of technology and internet and access to information like no generation before, yet...

A wise friend once told me, "all problems have a solution, it's just whether or not we care to find the solution."

That hits deep. 

 So, here's where my 3:15 a.m. thoughts lead me...while there are many aspects of world issues we won't be able to solve here, there are still so many things we are solving.  Yes, the work is hard, but we need to keep being loud about these jobs & partnerships & keep selling the dang things.

We can't eradicate poverty, but we sure are going to go down fighting for it. Every job sustained is a life forever impacted. 

 Every single day we get to make a choice in what we buy and where we buy it. I'm just going to call it for what it is, but your purchases with big corporations only add to the world's suffering. Truly, there's no way around it. These corporations are some of the world's biggest polluters, are publicly known to be abusers of human rights, and act with no intentionality except to make an easy dollar. By shopping with them, we participate in the unfairness. We play a role, whether we want to admit it or not. But behind all the pretty advertising are people in bondage…

 I think of this every time we place a PO or send another box to Haiti...work is on the way! The praises that follow. This is good news to our partners & the artisans we have the honor to work with. You all should see me when I open an email from a partner and it includes a PO - THANK YOU JESUS! I will never not rejoice.

 We all play a role in the rejoicing and the weeping. But, the good news? We get to choose which side we land on. Our resistance is our intentionality in what we buy, where we buy, from whom we buy...” 

Thank you, Kayla, for sending words I needed to hear at a moment of sheer frustration and reminding me why we do hard things.  I am incredibly grateful for a community of businesses who refuse to give up.  Every life changed is worth it.  Even when we’re constantly changing and adapting, our willingness to do it brings hope to our teams.

And all of you, our community of buyers and advocates, bring us hope and joy.  I echo Kayla’s words – I will never not rejoice with every order in the door!  Thank you for choosing good – for choosing hope and life and freedom for people. 

Have thoughts or questions?  Send them my way!  And, as always, if you’re a praying person, send those our way too!

With gratitude,
Jessica