A few weeks ago, I had the very special opportunity to attend the C&A Brazil fashion show, kicking offs its new line for Summer 2013. The collection, titled Eu sou poderosa (“I am powerful”), featured four different Brazilian poderosas, or “powerful women,” representing 4 different regions, 4 different styles, and 4 different spirits that altogether reflect the beauty of Brazil’s unique and immense diversity.
The fashion show was an exciting experience for me, not so much for the clothes and the glamor, but more because it gave me an opportunity to reflect on my experience in Brazil as a whole. For me, it was not the models and the fashion I was watching on the runway; it was Brazil.
The mixture of colors, textures, and patterns in the four poderosa collections reflected the vibrancy and the richness of the Brazilian culture and spirit –or, as they termed it, brasilidade– that is so present in every aspect of their life, from the clothes they wear to the music they listen to.
In true Brazilian style, the show was complemented with music and dancing at every interval, again showing off the wide and lively array of musical genres that Brazilians all love and live by. The audience danced and sang along as some of the biggest names in Brazilian pop culture appeared on stage by surprise—or at least surprise for me. No one else seemed to be too awed when Naldo came out to sing his number one hit “Se jogo” and then Preta Gil joined him in a duet before the parade had even started, or when worldwide supermodel Isabel Gouzart walked out onto the runway leading the other top models behind. The others in the audience did not know ahead of time either, but for them it is just another one of those things about Brazil that comes as such a striking contrast to me (to have the lives of some of the most famous so casually intersecting with people’s everyday life) but that here is just seen as something almost normal. Personally, I am still shocked weeks later that I saw Mariene de Castro and Thiago Abravanel along with all of the others all in one night. These are names that even I recognize and admire after just my few short months here. (And did I mention that the admission to this mega-event was totally free?)
For me, the biggest takeaway from the experience was an affirmation of Brazil’s great pride in its uniqueness and its determination to portray the country and its people in a way that truly embraces all that makes them distinct. This is something that I have noticed not just in the music and the fashion industry, but also as a theme among investors, organizations, and other local groups all looking for a unique model for growth and development in Brazil that plays to the country and culture’s strengths and identity. Brazil believes in itself, the all poderosa, and is determined to do things in its own style.
As the show came to an end, samba dancers took over the stage to give one last performance and complete the one missing part of the all Brazilian experience. A Sunday night at 9pm, and the event finished by launching into a huge party that was just getting started.
Overall, I would say they did it: they managed to capture the true essence and spirit of Brazil all on one stage and all in one room. If this was just a fashion show, I cannot wait to see what they will do for the Olympics…
48. That’s the number of times little Dieguito has missed class since the school year started. Whether it was because the weather was bad, or someone wasn’t feeling well, or for whatever other reason his parents could not take him in that day, there has always been some excuse.
27. That’s the number of bilhetes, or tickets, that little Dieguito has received for not having done his homework on the days that he has gone to school.
The first time I saw his caderno –the notebook where he is meant to write down his homework for the day, but that he instead had filled with bilhetes– he was taking it out to get his father’s signature. (Every time a child receives a bilhete, he has to take it home to have a parent sign to say that they have seen that their child has not done the work.) Dieguito’s father looked down at the bilhete, signed it without asking a question, and Dieguito was ready to return to his computer games for the evening.
Sitting there witnessing this interaction, I was a bit surprised. I was expecting some kind of scolding, or at least an interrogation of some sort. Why hadn’t he done the homework? Maybe he had not known how to do it. Maybe he was being lazy. Or maybe he was just not receiving the proper kind of encouragement.
I asked him, “Dieguito, why did you get a bilhete?”
He responded, “Because I didn’t do the homework.”
So I asked him, “Why didn’t you do the homework?”
He just shrugged.
“What’s your homework for today? Do you need some help? Maybe we can do it together.”
He took out his paper: a list of long-division problems, which he clearly did not understand or even know where to start. I sat down with him and we began to work through the problems together. And very soon, this became our nightly routine.
Every evening, I would arrive home and the first thing I would ask was, “Dieguito, what’s the homework for tonight?” And then, we would sit down together to work through it. In the beginning, Dieguito was still a bit reluctant. If we came to a calculation he did not know right away, he would want me to give him the easy answer, and it took a bit of convincing to make him try and keep him engaged.
But as we continued on with our nightly routine, he began to become more and more self-motivated. Instead of me arriving to the house and asking him if he had homework, he started to be the one to run to me when I entered, excited to announce, “Look!! This is the homework I have for today.”
This week, I was in for an even better surprise. As I walked through the door, Dieguito came over with a huge smile. Not only was he happy to show me that he had homework, but this time he beamed wide as he held out a whole page of problems that he had already completed by himself with no help and not even a reminder.
Doing homework has become something that Dieguito looks forward to and something that he is proud of. He excitedly shares how he now gets good feedback from the teachers, and he even comments on how he can see his own handwriting is improving. Homework time has become a highlight of his day; but if it were this easy, he could have been doing it all along. So why didn’t he?
Honestly, I think he did struggle a bit with the content before. His teachers were probably not giving him all the support he needed, and I definitely don’t think he was asking questions when he did not understand. But perhaps more critically, he was also not receiving much motivation at home. His parents were not involved in making sure he did his homework, and they were not quite setting the example that going to school everyday was a priority.
But was it their fault? Big Diego, Dieguito’s father, admits himself that he was never very good in school. And Brenda, his mother, did not get very far herself. They probably both grew up in homes where their parents did not offer them much support with school either. And like that, it continues in an on-going cycle where parents do not fully motivate their children through school, not because they do not care, but because, never having learned from a good example themselves, they do not understand what kind of support is required.
The education system in Brazil has its problems, undoubtedly. Poor infrastructure, the lack of qualified teachers, poorly designed curriculums, etc.; these are all surely huge obstacles, as well. But the more basic problem starts with setting an example at home.
Since I started working with Dieguito, he still earns an occasional bilhete when he forgets to write down the full assignment, and he still misses a day of school here and there. But just knowing that someone else cares –that someone will be disappointed if he forgets to do his homework, that someone will be proud when he gets good marks– he now cares about school and his own progress, too. And seeing the transformation, his parents are now becoming more involved, too, realizing how they can also take a more active role in their son’s learning process, as well. Really, as I see it, it’s a big change that starts with something small. Showing a lit bit of interest and offering a tiny push for motivation can go a long way. And of course, it all starts with setting the right example.
17:00 on the dot, and I am ready to go. My first meeting with the partners is scheduled to begin now. PowerPoint up, posters on the wall, post-its and pens all counted out. Banana bread baked and fresh out of the oven, refreshments on the table and ready to serve.
17:07, still waiting for everyone (or anyone) to appear ready to start. My workshop invitees are present, but in another room still locked in conversation.
17:24, I receive confirmation that we are waiting for the last partner to show up so that we can begin.
17:46, last participant arrives.
18:00, an hour late and we’re just getting starting. Odds are already not in our favor for getting through the agenda I had planned out.
18:11, PowerPoint launched and we’re getting into content, just when it’s decided that we should call a few more people in to come and listen, too.
18:20, Take 2; we try again with everybody present now.
18:30, and we’re still on Slide 1. First quote and we’ve already started a good debate. But we’ll try to put discussion on pause until we can get through the presentation of content…
19:12, holding comments doesn’t work so well with so many creative minds in one room. Let’s just put the PowerPoint on hold for now and go to the next activity.
19:40, abandon agenda, forget the planned activities, try to skip to the decisions that need to be made.
20:27, meeting adjourned. Halfway through the PowerPoint, banana bread all gone, posters still blank, questions raised but decisions still unmade. But conversation started, ideas in the air, discussion to be continued…
Maybe it’s Brazil. Or maybe it’s just the nature of the topic. Most likely, it’s a combination of both.
Frustrating? A little bit. Productive? Not so much. But a step forward? Yes. And I guess they liked it, too, (and they certainly loved the banana bread) because they’ve asked me to represent the PowerPoint on Thursday so that can hear it all again and have a chance to see the rest. So here we go; let’s try again. But maybe this time we’ll do without an agenda…
This post was originally written on Monday, September 9, 2013.
They say when it rains, it pours. And here in Rocinha, it’s no exception. After 5 days without running water (a new record since we have been here) I came home to find half of the apartment flooded. I guess the water came back, which was great. But unfortunately, a tap had been left open…
Life at work has pretty much followed the same pattern. A main part of my research for Pipa has been to reach out to experts in the field in Brazil and beyond to find out how they have designed their own impact thesis and strategy, and to see how they use metrics to drive their mission forward. After weeks of playing phone tag and sending out one-way emails that never received a response, all of the sudden my luck seems to have changed. My inbox is full with messages from investors, fellow accelerator programs, and academics, and I now have three interviews a day scheduled for the next week straight.
From the interviews I have already managed to do in the previous weeks, I have heard a range of different perspectives: investors who put impact vs. finance first, who focus on measuring outputs vs. outcomes, who believe in customized vs. standardized metrics, and some who do not believe in impact metrics at all. Everyone has had a slightly different combination of perspectives on these trade-offs, and I do not think I have heard the same story twice. The only thing that seems to be strikingly clear from each interview is that there really is no one way of approaching how to create and manage impact.
If anything, talking with the experts has only made me less sure that there is a good way to measure impact, and even less sure that there is even a reason why. Impact is really such a broad concept, and trying to force it all together onto one comparable scale is really not feasible or helpful.
Just like a total dollar value does not actually indicate the real health of a company (i.e. what about its governance? presence of corruption? value of human capital? company culture, etc.), there is probably not any metric or even set of metrics for that matter that can paint a perfect picture of impact. And after all, if you are truly making an impact, does it really matter how much?
Don’t get me wrong. I am entirely 100% impact-first myself. For me, the impact is what matters the most; but it does not matter how much because there is no limited value of impact that you can make. The world has an unlimited number of problems, and every problem is a new opportunity to make impact. The only issue with holding this approach to investing is that an investor does have limited resources, and he or she has to make choices on how to spend his o her money and time. In this case, I think metrics can be very valuable. Not as a way to indicate real total impact, but as a way to find some method of making choices and setting priorities on what to invest in and how. These metrics do not have to be perfect. A dollar value isn’t either. But they just need to give some indicator of direction to move ahead– not necessarily down the one right path, but down a path that will make a difference and make an impact regardless.
This post was originally written on Wednesday, August 27, 2013.
Saudações do Brasil! I arrived last week to Rio de Janeiro, where I have joined the team at Pipa –an accelerator program for social entrepreneurs– with the task to help them develop a system to measure, assess, and manage impact.
The first official week of my placement got off to a bit of a slow start; the Pope was in town for World Youth Day, and to celebrate his visit (and avoid the outrageous extra traffic), most of the city, including my new office, put normal operations on hold for the week.
Meanwhile, with two home office days followed by two feriados (public holidays), I spent my free time away from the office getting to know my new home: Rocinha, Rio’s largest and most densely populated favela.
For my placement with Pipa, I work out of the beautiful Casa 20, a mansion in São Conrado. One of the more affluent neighborhoods of Rio, São Conrado offers a breathtaking and relaxing environment that appeals to tourists and upper class citizens with its luxury golf course and scenic paragliding points. The Pipa mansion shares the same tranquil beauty. Colorful, spacious, and surrounded by lush green, Casa 20 gives a lively and fresh atmosphere, providing what seems to be a perfect space to inspire creativity and innovation.
So how, then, did I end up in one of Brazil’s infamous urban slums? Why did I leave behind the serenity in the spaciousness of São Conrado to find myself crowding into the winding maze of already narrow streets and stairs that appear even smaller under that buildings stacked story-after-story? Why did I give up the peaceful atmosphere to find a home in a neighborhood known for its history of violence and crime?
It all started when I was looking at apartments for rent on Airbnb and I came across the opportunity to do a homestay with a family. The ad was posted by one of FMS’s alums, social entrepreneur himself Elliot Rosenberg, who runs Favela Experience– a community tourism agency that helps direct tourism towards developing the community. Upon discovering a fellow scout, any doubts or second thoughts that I otherwise might have had about staying in the favela were completely distinguished. And I immediately started to get excited about the opportunity to explore an area that before had seemed so off limits.
For me, this is not the first time that I have found myself making home in a neighborhood where poverty is present in the streets, where electricity comes and go, and where water is never a guarantee. In fact, when I have traveled previously –whether to rural Honduras or the outskirts of urban Morocco– staying in lesser developed communities has tended to be my preference. But this time, something about the experience has been different; and this time, I continue to be surprised.
What has been so shocking to me is the striking array of contrasts so visible everywhere I go: extreme luxury right next to extreme poverty, metropolitan skyscrapers between steep mountains, etc., and all in walking distance. From my home in the favela, I can walk to the Fashion Mall, one of Rio’s most renowned luxury commercial centers. Five more minutes and I am at the beach. Another five minutes to the other side and I am back in another favela. People live in and out of the face of luxury and poverty on a daily basis. Beach or city center, I see contrasts everywhere I go; but I think these contrasts will prove to be interesting signs of opportunities for innovation and social entrepreneurship. From mansion to favela, the quest begins!