Pedro belongs to the poorest community in the province. His mother is blind and lacks the means to support him. How would you like to sponsor him for as little as $1/day?
That’s the general gist of any child sponsorship program – do some good, adopt a child, and now that child can live life. There’s a story, there’s a face, and a dire circumstance – who wouldn’t want to give? But how effective is this in solving the situation really?
Take, for example, a program out here in Cambodia who offered $15 to individual drop-outs to get back into school. Noble goal, but the net result was that more kids dropped out. Why? Because they wanted the $15.
First, there’s the ethical issue of individual sponsorship. Should a child be so publically exposed along with their struggling situation? How fair is that to the child? And where do you draw the ethical line for a child to feel “entitled” to a donor half-a-world away?
Second, there’s the logistical issue. A child is rarely an isolated incident and is more likely to be amongst a group of children in a poverty-ridden community. Should one child receive the benefit over another? If he or she does receive surplus treatment, what about the jealousy factor among peers? And if not, then wouldn’t that make child sponsorship artificial – advertising that your dollar is helping one child, but in reality, the money is distributed?
One mission head of a development agency in Cambodia aptly summed it up: “Individual sponsorship is not development”.
Indeed, development projects that are systematically monitored are often the best remedy to a child’s circumstance. But here’s the big but– projects don’t sell as well as a story and a face. Projects sorely lack that human touch.
Here’s some food for thought: How does one balance the need to raise funds by tugging heartstrings, while also being true to the programs that best help?
