Paul & Samuel, Monte Alban, Oaxaca, Mexico, 1994

Samuel, who had cerebral palsy, lived with his family in Monte Alban, Oaxaca, a colonia on a dusty winding road that led to the ancient Mixtec ruins, one of Oaxaca, Mexico’s main tourist attractions. Between the city center and those ruins, homes made of adobe and metal scraps crowded the hillside, which was where Samuel lived in a compound with four generations of his family: his loving mother, Alejandra, his four siblings, Alejandra’s own parents, and her grandmother. The children’s largely absent father was an alcoholic who in a rage once took a sledgehammer to Samuel’s room, causing the walls to crumble.

Three years in a row, Paul and I traveled to Oaxaca together on what’s called, in college, an “alternative spring break.” I can’t cover all the problems of voluntourism here, but I will name one: it is neither ideal nor fair, if working with children, children who might become attached to you, to come in and out of their lives. It was also not ideal that Samuel did not have access to health care, including physical therapy, which was what brought us there through a collaboration between Maryknoll Missioners and Catholic Campus Ministries at James Madison University. Groups from Notre Dame, Villanova, and Marquette would come after us to fill in that gap in Samuel’s care.

So, each year, for seven days, Paul and I worked with Samuel’s family. While Alejandra worked as a laundress for wealthy families, Paul and I played with the children and did basic physical therapy with Samuel to keep his muscles from completely atrophying. The first day was always the hardest. Samuel’s ligaments would be so stiff, like a bird whose wings have been cemented shut. As we bent and opened his arms, Samuel screamed. The movement was excruciating for him. No matter how gently we tried to extend his limbs, it felt like we were prying him open, like we’d break him if we continued. But doing nothing would have been worse. To hurt a child in order to help him is terrible. We had to find something to distract him, so Paul pulled out his harmonica and began playing, and I sang “I Am a Child,” “Sugar Mountain,” and “Only Love Can Break Your Heart.” Samuel quieted as he studied Paul and his funny instrument, his eyes sparking as his mouth unhinged, letting out a great gurgling laugh.