Picture of Poverty: Click like, comment, share.

A few years ago I created a piece of work that I held higher than most of my other poems.  It was a piece that even my on again off again "mentor" deemed a  piece of literature to rival the greats.  I received the praise with great alacrity and renewed vitality to my craft.  To add all I could to the meaning of "Forty Cents" I searched for a picture that would vividly capture the essence of my brain child.  It was a child standing with tattered garments barely draped over his tiny frame, stomach swollen with ribs protruding so clearly I would have no trouble counting them, one by one.  I felt saddened by the picture - and for those who did not grasp the sincerity and pain from which my words were birthed I needed them to see this photograph.

After I edited to add this poor soul, the young boy I had no idea was living or so near death and pain he'd welcome his last breath, I felt accomplished.  As if I had the right to feel accomplishment by underscoring his misfortune.  But I felt, at least everyone will know how genuine I was about the topic of poverty.  My mentor returned to the comment section.  He was disgusted.  He was disappointed.  He ranted, as he normally does out of passion, that I have defaced my work with adding such an image.  My words held more weight than the picture and I am actually perpetuating the exact things I frown upon in my piece.

He was right.

"Forty Cents" was my spear into the heart of our elitism nature that makes us believe we can save these children's lives by loose change we spend on coffee daily.  We want to pat ourselves on the back for donating to these children when the bigger issues remain.  Indeed, all help we can give would be welcomed and if used correctly eventually chisel away at effects of poverty but as my mentor highlighted for me, what is the gain in parading a child covered in soot and mud?  Is it shock value?  Is it to tug so powerfully on the heart of all watching 'til cold tears dribbles down a flush face?

Perhaps.

But what next?  What next when we share these images on social media?  What next once we've commented "Amen" under a post whether because of wholehearted concern or fear of reproof ? What next?

For me, images are not needed, the stories scream loudly enough. I will pray for them, I will pray for us. Pray that the unkindness of this world does not harden our hearts, that we refuse to perpetuate stereotypes which breed hatred and untruths. I will pray that our love for one another moves us to help more than a picture ever could.

©Tia Clarke 2015