Back on My Feet is proud to share this testimonial from N Street Village volunteer Liz Belfield:
At 5:45 am, DC is just starting to wake up. Sleep still clings to the shadows as a diverse group of individuals runs through; the only noises are their sneakers hitting the pavement and the soft murmur of conversations carried through the still air. The uncharacteristic empty streets will soon be hustling with activity and after the workout the runners will join the chaos of the new day; entering two polar opposite worlds. But at 5:45 am, they run together, side by side.
The uniqueness of Back on My Feet is what first drew my interest; it wasn’t their purpose, but their methodologies that set them apart from other non-profit organizations that assist the homeless. I heard about this organization through my sister, who started volunteering during the summer of 2010. While my graduate student lifestyle did not make the 5:45 am meeting times attractive, I still loved the concept and opportunities BOMF offered. When one of my classes assigned a project to study a non-government organization in the DC area, I knew exactly which one I wanted to work with.
The primary purpose of this class project was to practice the anthropological methods we were learning in class, gather qualitative data for analysis, and perform the analysis, drawing connections to larger anthropological concepts. It was also designed to allow me to gain experience working not only as an anthropologist, but as an anthropologist interested in development organizations. My original aim while working with BoMF was to look at the dynamic relationship between the volunteers and the population BoMF assisted, focusing on the motivations and obligations of the volunteers. Because of the unique nature of this organization, I was interested to see who the volunteers were; if they were runners who want to volunteer or volunteers who want to run. Altruism is a cross cultural, worldwide phenomenon that has been analyzed in anthropological literature from multiple perspectives. I was interested to see if I could examine the altruistic tendencies of this organization.
But as the project developed, larger themes became prevalent. Motivations are a difficult thing to examine; they are multifaceted and cannot be examined without contextual relations to larger issues. My project aimed to take an applied anthropological perspective analyzing the motivations, experiences, structures, and space in relation to the volunteers and the non-profit group they work with.
I performed my observations at one of the meeting locations on cold February mornings. As an anthropologist in training, we are taught to recognize our influence and presence when interacting with cultural groups. I knew from the first day, staying distant would be impossible with this group. Everyone was friendly, welcoming, and positive, making effort to involve everyone, myself included. As a long time runner, I found it difficult to put the anthropologist in me first. As my feet hit the sidewalk, it took conscious effort not to revert into my running mentality. I noticed how much it felt like a running group rather than an NGO. I could have been there with my other running teams, breathing in the cold February air, feeling my muscles get comfortable under my tights.
One of my most memorable moments was on the first run I participated in. As we turned the last corner on that first run, the resident I was running with looked at the straightaway separating us from the finish, took a deep breath, turned to me and said, “Well? Let’s go.” They picked up the pace and I couldn’t help but smile and I tagged along. We could see the runners who finished before us and heard them clap as we got close. As we caught our breathes after we crossed the finish line, our eyes met and before I could congratulate them, they told me that was the first time they had run the whole home stretch. I smiled, feeling proud of this stranger and happy I was part of this moment with them. As the other volunteers and participants trickled in, we all clapped and congratulated every single runner. I might have divided the group between volunteers and participants before, but we finished as runners, all of us.
Standing side by side, I saw the respect and friendships in the faces of participants and volunteers alike. We came from all walks of life, but here in this circle, we were joined as runners. After the run, I talked to volunteers, explaining who I was and what I was doing. “Well? What did you think?” one volunteer asked me, shrugging her shoulders. I only had a brief ethical fight in my head before responding honestly, “I thought it was great. This is an incredible organization.” She smiled, looking down at a paper in her hand, and started to turn away. “You can’t quite put your finger on it,” she said, turning her body towards me, but still looking at the paper in her hand. She looked up, squinting into my eyes as the first light entered the sky. “But it’s special.” She smiled again, wished me a good day and asked if I will be here next time. I nodded, affirming I will be returning. She jogged away from me, her feet hitting the pavement in a steady interval. It is easy to define who we are by our differences. But as we all run side by side, paired off under the barely lit sky, I realized we are all indistinguishable as runners.
Liz Belfield is a graduate student in Anthropology in DC, concentrating in International Development. She studied BoMF this past semester, using participant observation and interview methodologies. The views and opinions expressed here are her own.