Appreciation and direction

Yeah, I had so much to say that I've decided to post twice today! This past week, for the first time, I watched Madonna's documentary 'I Am Because We Are' on YouTube. (To clarify, the film was written and produced by Madonna and directed by Nathan Rissman, once a gardener for the star.)  If you haven't heard of it, I recommend it--and I'll summarize by saying that the film explores, among other things, the devastating effects of AIDS on the population of the African nation of Malawi (seemingly unknown or unheard of to much of the western world, at least until Madonna became involved): the hundreds of thousands of orphaned children, the despairing victims on the verge of death, the desperation of parentless youth left to fend for themselves on the streets. Add poverty, lack of education, economic stagnation, alcoholism, absence of medical aid, and destructive traditional cultural practices perpetuated by ignorance (including "curing sex" in which elder male villagers designated as spiritual healers engage in repeated forced sexual intercourse with the mothers or wives of AIDS victims to supposedly rid them of the resultant impurities of their lives), and you've got a pretty awful situation. The film is devastating, brutally honest, at times repugnant, inspiring, life-affirming, and beautiful. 

Say what you will about Madonna--about her musical significance, her talent, her reputation for manipulation, her knack for mastering the changing weather of cultural relevance and taste, her very public adoption of two children of Malawi (one of whom is well known to still have a living father), her motives as an artist / director / singer / songwriter / musician / actress / producer / executive / philanthropist. 'I Am Because We Are' humanizes Madonna and convinces all but the most cynical, cold-hearted viewers that her heart overflows with love and an inherent responsibility to help others. As someone who has questioned, on countless occasions, the value of his own life, his purpose, his value to the world, I was left wondering how I might sign up to serve Madonna's mission for a better Malawi and a better planet. I would gladly go there in a heartbeat, and not just to please her. Indeed, the potential benefits and inherent thrills of a professional relationship with Madonna Herself are hard to deny, but the realization of a personal commitment to change in a suffering yet promising nation of life-loving survivors and innocent children--capable of changing the world as we know it--is an opportunity that is hard to dismiss.

Make no mistake: I am committed to a better America, and I am grateful to live here; but as Madonna points out, there is a joy, a deep celebratory abandon, an absolute lack of pretense or artificiality, present in the lives of the most impoverished and seemingly discarded human beings populating the forgotten corners of the developing world that makes our spoiled, selfish, unabashedly ignorant American experience pale in comparison--a life of color and dance and laughter blossoming amidst the death thriving everywhere. If I had the courage, I would book a one-way flight for Malawi tomorrow. Somewhere in that land of suffering and wonder I am convinced that I would find myself--that I would find purpose in influencing the lives of forgotten children and neglected souls begging for the opportunity to shine. Honestly, it would be fantastic to meet Madonna, to earn her respect and admiration; but it might very well be good enough to connect with the people regardless of her approval or praise. I would never do it just for her, or just for myself; I would do it for the children, for the elders of Malawi who would hopefully be convinced, in time, of my selfless intentions. How can I do this?! Is it my calling?