New VK Projects and 101% on Giving Tuesday

Happy December!

The close of the year is an exciting time at Vigilante Kindness. We’ve wrapped our projects from the previous year and have taken some time to consider, pray about, and begin the baby steps of planning new projects for the coming year. I’m giddy over our projects for 2016!. Some are familiar projects we’re continuing with and others are brand spanking new opportunities. I hope you’ll take a sec to pop over to our Current Projects Page and read all about them, but for now I’ll just say they involve pigs and tractors and feminine products-oh my!

In other exciting news, today if you donate to Vigilante Kindness via the PayPal Giving Fund, your donation will go a lot further.

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Normally VK receives 97% of all PayPal donations, but today we’ll receive 101% of every donation. So if you’d like to make a donation before the calendar year ends, or if you know an organization seeking to make a donation, your donation can do a just little more good today through the PayPal Giving Fund.

I’m thankful for how seamless PayPal makes our transactions and thankful that they’re giving back to Vigilante Kindness today. Most of all I’m thankful for you, Vigilantes, for falling in love with the people and places we work with and joining us in committing acts of Vigilante Kindness.

 

Meet Becca McKinnon: Teacher, Photographer, Vigilante

Happy Cyber Monday, Vigilantes. I’m told today is the best day for shopping for Christmas presents online. In the land of teachers, today is known more as, Please-God-Let-My-Students-Have-Gone-To-Bed-At-A-Reasonable-Hour-Last-Night-Day.

I digress.

Since it is Cyber Monday, I wanted to let you know of some ways you can shop online while also supporting Vigilante Kindness. You can, of course, buy any of the remaining paper bead jewelry, paintings or poetry anthologies from our store. You can also buy Bravelets bracelets or shop at AmazonSmile.

But there’s one more way you can shop online while supporting the work we do at VK. We’re big on using our gifts to serve others and I love when you email, message, call, stop me in the grocery store and tell me about your gifts and talents and how you want to use them to partner with us. Seriously, few things make me happier than when the work we love to do collides with what your gifts and talents.

Enter Becca McKinnon.

You know her as half of the couple who shoved money in my hand before I left for Uganda the second time with the directions to “find a kid in need.” That money became a mattress for a kid in need.

Becca teaches with me, poor thing, but her passion is taking photographs. She takes photos that leave me awestruck. Seriously, just look at this one of Balanced Rock.

Balanced Rock by Becca McKinnon
Balanced Rock by Becca McKinnon

I can’t even talk about the photos she snapped of my favorite oak tree on Millville Plains Road.

So when Becca asked me if she could donate part of the proceeds of her photo sales to Vigilante Kindness, I was definitely on board. When she said she wanted to give Vigilante Kindness 50% of the proceeds, I nearly passed out. She actually asked if 50% would be enough and it was all I could do to sputter out, “Y-y-y-yes, fifty percent is more than enough.”

So on this Cyber Monday, while I’m wrangling sleep-deprived children, take a minute to pop over to Becca’s site. Even if you somehow have superhero willpower and don’t purchase anything, you’ll be glad to see the beauty Becca captures through the lens of her camera.

Thanks, Becca, and thanks to all of you Vigilantes who use your gifts and talents to partner with VK in doing the work we love.

Paper Beads & Paintings Now For Sale Online!

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Dearest, patient online Vigilantes, the long-awaited day for you to purchase paper bead jewelry online is finally here. In case you simply can’t wait another moment, pop on over to our store to shop. I’ll wait here.

Because of seed money donated by Vigilantes prior to my last trip to Uganda,  Vigilante Kindness was able to purchase 1,000ish gorgeous paper bead necklaces and bracelets. I bought up every bit the women of Bungatira created and I thought surely 1,000ish pieces would be enough to last us for sales for a year.

I was wrong.

So very wrong.

I brought them to one local speaking engagement and had 2 small jewelry parties and POOF! all but a few pieces were snatched up before I could even breathe, let alone get the pieces loaded vigilantekindness.com to sell.

Honestly, it was a great problem to have. Once again, Vigilantes, you completely knocked my socks off with your generosity and support for the people we’ve come to love in Uganda.

The good news is that there are a few lovely pieces remaining and the even better news is that this year’s jewelry sales have guaranteed that this project is now self-sustaining. It makes me want to jump up and down a teensy bit. Okay, more than a teensy bit.

Before you head over to buy some beautiful paper bead jewelry, please take 2 minutes to see how the paper bead jewelry is made.

Loving you with all my liver,

Alicia

P.S. While you’re there you can check out the three remaining painting we have for sale by Ugandan artists Calvin & Seddrick.

Vigilante Kindness Evening of Stories

Hi, Vigilantes!

You’re invited to an Evening of Stories on October 17th from 4:30pm to 6:00pm in the Community Room at the Redding Library. I’ll be sharing stories and photos from our latest adventures in Vigilante Kindness in Uganda.

Paper bead jewelry and paintings from our Ugandan artisans will also be for sale that evening.

This event is free and open to the public.

If you’d like to help out at the Evening of Stories, please email me at vigilantekindness@gmail. com. We’re in need of people to help with some light set up, to prepare snacks, and to man the paper bead jewelry table.

I can’t wait to tell you stories and show you photos of all the great things your generosity has done. This evening is a small way of saying thanks for partnering with us in acts of Vigilante Kindness in Uganda.

Fondly,

Alicia

Doable Things

On my last day in Gulu I saw Sister Rosemary for a few minutes. I hadn’t seen her since my first trip to Uganda-before the story of her life became a best seller and a movie, before she became a world renowned speaker and before Time named her one of the 100 Most Influential people.
Sister Rosemary is an enigma to me. She’s hilarious and down to Earth. She drinks Guinness like a fish. She’s a devout nun. She’s the essence of warmth. And Sister Rosemary gets things done because when she gives you a direction, you follow it.

This is what led my mom and I back to her home at Saint Monica’s Tailoring School on our last day in Gulu. We’d run into Sister Rosemary and some of the good people at Pros for Africa at a cafe in town the day before and Sister Rosemary invited us to visit her. By the time we left the cafe, her invitation had become an agreement that we’d come. And when Sister Rosemary tells me to do something, I drop everything and do it. She’s the kind of woman who inspires equal parts fear and awe in me down in my trembly parts.

On the day we visited, my mom and I found her sitting on the step in front of her house picking out lace to cover the coffin of her cousin who had passed away the day before. Even in her grief, Sister was welcoming and warm and insisted on showing us the pop tab purses that had been made with a donation of soda pop tabs my mom had brought to Uganda to give to Sister Rosemary. 
 After showing us where and how the purses are made, Sister Rosemary gave each of us a purse, an unnecessary and lavish act of generosity considering how much each purse would sell for and how much revenue that would bring to the school. 
We only stayed a few minutes because funeral preparations are elaborate in Uganda, but before we left I told her how much I’d appreciated what she said in her interviews on the girls who had been kidnapped by Boko Haram in Nigeria. She thanked me and said, “We must speak of doable things.” She went on to explain that so often we speak of large problems and large solutions, but really we should focus on small things each of us can do to care for each other, to extend kindness, to wash the muck off each other with a little grace.

Sister Rosemary runs a school for women, many of whom were forced to be child brides of LRA soldiers during the terrorizing insurgency led by the warlord Joseph Kony. On campus there’s a sewing school, a culinary school, a health clinic, a restaurant and a host of other opportunities for the women of Uganda to learn life skills. What Sister does is incredible, but she would be the first to tell you, she’s taking one small step at a time, just trying to follow the will of God. When she speaks of doable things, it’s because she’s living them day in and day out.

On the day of our visit, we hugged goodbye and I promised to visit Sister again when I return next year. While my mom and I waited for our boda driver to get us, I ran my hand over my beautiful pop tab purse, a purse sewn of small doable things.  


As I pray for direction for Vigilante Kindness, pray for direction for this upcoming school year, and frankly as I pray for direction for my life as a whole, I’m praying Sister Rosemary’s words and asking God to give me that same heart for doable things.

Maybe you’re overwhelmed by the problems of the world, frustrated in your job, exhausted with worry for your family, or just plain asking for direction. Sweet Vigilantes, let’s commit to speaking of small doable things and then doing them.

Are you with me?

Love and Struggle With Carrie Underwood and Mister Rogers

Leaving Uganda is always bittersweet. I know how fortunate I am to feel at home in two such distinctly different places in the world, I know what a rare gift that is. This trip has been unlike any other, all of our projects going smoothly or taking unexpected turns for the better. My husband likes to remind me that it’s ok, good even, that things went so smoothly.

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For me the biggest challenge has been balancing being a mother, being a daughter, and being true to the beliefs we hold dear within Vigilante Kindness. It was a tightrope walk for me. My prayers were often petitions for grace and wisdom and strength and understanding. My actual prayers were not that eloquent. They were more like, “I’m out of ideas here, God. Can you let me in on the plan?” Or “God, remind me to be kind. Help me understand.” I prayed that one a lot. But do you want to know the prayer I prayed the most? I hope you find this as funny as I do. I’m not even a country music fan, yet over and over again I prayed-and I wish I were making this up-I prayed, “Jesus, take the wheel.” I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it’s true.

There were times on this trip where I was bad at being a mom, bad at being a daughter, or bad at figuring out where to go next with VK. Sometimes I was bad at all three at once and I’d take a quiet moment, most times while I was washing my clothes in the shower, because there’s something about water that makes me think, and I’d say out loud, “Jesus, take the wheel.” Then I’d throw my soapy hands up in the air like I was releasing a steering wheel. No joke.

I’m new to this mothering thing and this year I got to know my boys better, got to see some of their less desirable qualities. They also got to know me better and I’m sure saw some of my less desirable qualities, too. Mix that in a bowl with my shortcomings as a daughter and two cultures that often operate in opposite directions than one another and you’ve got a big lump of mess.

A big beautiful mess.

But over and over again we chose to love each other, to navigate our differences, our disagreements, to build bridges across the chasms created by our cultures.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about a quote from Mister Rogers about how the verb love is an active verb, like the verb struggle. Love is a choice we make over and over again. And to love someone as they are in this very moment, perhaps in an ugly mess of a moment, when love is the last thing you want to speak, and yet you dislodge loving words from your throat and speak them anyway, that is love.

I don’t know about you, but isn’t that great news, that in the throes of difficulty we can choose to love? Better yet, in tantrums of our own worst selves, we have people who choose the struggle, choose to love us. Best of all, God chooses every day to love our imperfect, praying in the shower selves.

Moms out there, I don’t know how you do it. I really don’t. This motherhood thing isn’t for sissies. Maybe you’re like me, and you and your kid are unveiling the vulnerable and sometimes messy sides of yourselves. Maybe you aren’t bridging the cultural gaps we’re traversing, but maybe your kid is residing in the very foreign land of Teenager and you aren’t finding common ground. You’re not alone.

In the moments when you’re on empty, borrow Mister Rogers’ words. Choose to struggle for love, choose to struggle in love, choose love. And in the moments when all you can do is throw up your soapy hands and give up the wheel, Carrie Underwood and I are here for you, too.

Lanyero & Sons Chicken Farm Project

I wish I could take you on the road to the chicken farm with me, the wind against our tanned faces on the backs of boda bodas cutting through the red dirt ribbons of roads. Ladies, I’d show you how to tuck your skirts in while you sit side saddle so your beautiful, billowing skirt doesn’t accidentally billow right into the back wheel and leave your backside wanting for modesty. Then we’d pass by the rock quarry, where women sledgehammer rocks into shards while carrying babies on their backs and not even breaking a sweat. Their strength would make you sit up a little taller, proud to be one of womankind with them. We’d ride past clusters of smiling children waving and calling out, “Munu, bye! Munu, bye! Munu, bye!” Maybe, just maybe as we ride, you, too, would fall in love with the village. 
Today I took that ride to visit Lamuno, screaming Baby Patience, and the chicks that have, at long last, arrived at the chicken farm. 

 Lamuno was gracious as usual and my oldest kid, William, met us there. The solar lights Vigilante Kindness had donated to light the chicken house were charging in the sun.


Almost immediately, William and I got to work taking photos of the chicken house and the chicks themselves, who were fuzzy, cheeping, little fluffs.  

 

 Another video did survive, it’s a video of William thanking you for supporting the Chicken Farm Project. I tear up each time I watch it and when I’m somewhere with bandwidth that supports uploading videos, I’ll share it with you, too. Some of you who have been around Vigilante Kindness since Day 1 know William’s story, have heard me speak of William, about his time as a child soldier and about his miraculous escape. To see the kid, who at a young age often had to choose between his life or the life of another, now stand before me as a young, entrepreneurial chicken farmer makes me burst with pride. William took the lead on the chicken farm project, pricing all of the materials, having them delivered, hiring the construction workers, and doing a host of other tasks. He took his position as the older brother very seriously and didn’t squander a minute or a shilling. He knows the power of a second chance and understands in ways I’ll never truly know that the chicken farm is a chance at a better life for him, for his brothers, and for the widows and orphans of the community. 

 When our work at the chicken farm was finished, Lamuno presented me with a water jug and a millet sifting basket. Lamuno lives in poverty, identifies herself with no agenda of gaining pity, as a poor widow. When she handed me these gifts, I knew they were a sacrifice, that many hard earned shillings had been spent on these precious items. I accepted them with tears in my eyes and told her that I love her very much. 

 I wish I could take you to the chicken farm with me, that we could cut through the red dirt roads to hold fluffy, yellow chicks in our hands. I wish you could breathe in the green that is Uganda and wave at the children who run to the roads, smiling and giggling at our passing. Most of all I wish you could shake hands with William and listen to gentle Lamuno speak. Maybe, just maybe, you’d fall in love with the village, but this I know for sure, you’d fall in love with the people. 

We’re a rag-tag group of people vigilantly pursuing self-sustaining educational & employment opportunities with and for students and their families living in rural communities in developing countries. We believe in asking hard questions like, “What do you need and how can we help?” We believe that communities know their needs better than we do and that it’s our job to listen. We’re big on being kind for the sake of kindness and we believe that even the smallest acts of kindness can make a big difference. We believe in keeping vigil over one another and watching for opportunities to help, no matter how far off the beaten path those opportunities take us. We’re vigilant in our belief that God has given each person unique gifts and that one of the highest forms of worship is using those gifts to serve others. We believe God has a purpose for each life and Vigilante Kindness is our purpose. Join us as we live out wild adventures in service of God and others. Join us in committing acts of Vigilante Kindness.

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