THE JOURNEY OF FEEDING 1000 MOUTHS BEGINS WITH YOUR STEPS

The Cunningham Foundation is pleased to announce the Step by Step Walkathon, November 16-21. It is 8,325 miles from Denver, Colorado to Yetebon, Ethiopia.  The goal is to bridge that distance by raising funds to help support students in Yebeton with meals, school supplies and clothing.

There is magic in every mile - with the help of you, your friends and family, we can turn these steps into improving the lives of children in Yetebon, Ethiopia.

To kick off the week long event, Governor Bill Ritter has committed to walking the first mile of this epic undertaking. Governor Ritter will kick off this event by walking a mile on a treadmill at the State Capitol on Mon. Nov 16th 9:00-10:00am. When the Step by Step goal is reached, Governor Ritter will challenge the Governors of the other 49 states to join this amazing event!

Also, the Colorado chapter of DECA, a national organization for secondary students enrolled in Marketing Education, has already issued the challenge to over 7,000 of their members through the Quarters for Kids program!

You can join in the fun and help make a huge difference in the lives of those struggling with the basics of life in Yebeton too by securing pledges for every mile you walk, run, jog or move!

So get busy, challenge friends, schools, teachers, parents, and businesses - to participate in the rewarding joy of service, competitive spirit and become empowered to make a difference in the lives of others.

Visit http://www.cunninghamfoundation.org to find out more and to make your pledge to begin this ambitious and compassionate journey.

A Reflection by Natalie Villa

This year getting to go to Ethiopia was totally unexpected. I entered into the video contest not really sure if I wanted to go to Africa, but when they told me that I got to go I was excited. I wasn’t sure how to really prepare for that either.

Stepping off the plane in the Ethiopian airport was kinda crazy. It was so chaotic and busy. N my mind I was like great, I’m in this crazy place with a bunch of strangers, so going to the Ararat Hotel was interesting. I sort of got to see Addis; it really exceeded what I had gathered from the airport, I really thought that everyone lived in huts and walked around with no shoes. But I saw a city, a really modern city at that.

We then went to the first library, I was totally blown away. Although the library wasn’t to American standards it was still way nicer that I ever expected. After seeing the children I think I was really hit with “Oh my God, this is really real!” I don’t think I can fully explain how it felt to read to children from a totally different place. The best way to really describe it is by saying I was reading to this girl from another place but it somehow felt like I was readying to my brothers and sisters at home. It was just as powerful and meaningful as when I read to them.

The other thing that was also very powerful was seeing the children at Mother Teresa’s Aids Orphanage. It was crazy to me to see that these children wanted so much attention from us. I’ve never been to an orphanage in the United States but I feel like there are major differences in the way the children are I really felt like the children in Ethiopia were far more hopeful than those in America. I mean I know there’s no way to really tell but their demeanor is different. I don’t just feel that way about the children at the orphanage but throughout this country.

All the places I’ve been to it really seemed like the children want to learn. Just at the classes at Project Mercy, almost every hand went up to answer the question. Not to say children in the U.S. aren’t excited to learn, it’s just not as accessible at our schools back home. At times I felt like I could understand to a small very small degree. What it was like for them. Coming from one of the poorer schools, I know what it’s like to not have enough books for class or not be able to do experiments. As I was talking to the students from Cherry Creek I realized I had an advantage over them, I was able to understand some of the smaller challenges they face. I know that I still have it way easier than any child in Ethiopia, yet I can see why school work is hard to do.

I feel that I can take that experience of seeing the similarity between our school and how that to people at my school. I feel like the students at my school will understand some of the Ethiopian hardships through their own personal problems within the school. I think the idea that 60 students are in one class sharing books will hit home for them. Not necessarily to the same degree but still the same. I think the idea that there aren’t enough teachers will really make them see, I feel like the students at my school will understand how difficult it is at our school therefore they understand even more vividly, how absolutely difficult it is for children in Ethiopia.

I am so grateful I was able to go on this trip. I‘ve never in my life seen anything like this. I’ve never experienced the things I’ve experienced here. It’s almost like Ethiopia is a completely different world yet we have some similarities. I am truly astonished to see the type of life that is lived here. It was crazy to see how much one or two people can really make the difference. It exceeded any and all expectations. I was really touched to see that the video I made wasn’t for nothing, I can help Ethiopia and the children become better. I am so excited to see what else may come. I feel like me entering into the contest and winning wasn’t chance. And I plan to help change or improve some of what I’ve seen here. So be ready for Montbello to help in all that we can. Like I said, I am so grateful for this trip and the experiences I’ve had. I hope to keep some part of what I’ve experienced with me always.

Thank you so much

Natalie Villa

A Reflection by Hannah Merten

I still remember the day just about a year ago that I was filing into a dark auditorium, content on settling into my chair and getting some math homework done. I sat there with my aerobics class; we were supposed to watch a presentation about the Cunningham Foundation, whatever that was. Of course I cared about Africa, I always had. But on that particular Friday, I was just happy to not have to get dressed for gym.

That short hour in the auditorium was quite possibly the most important hour of my life, for I see now that the Cunningham Foundation has completely changed who I am. After seeing Noel’s presentation at Creek I began feeling this inexplicable tug on my heart. It wasn’t even that I just wanted to help. It wasn’t a normal reaction. For some reason I had yet to discover, I began to NEED to help the kids I had seen in the video. I NEEDED to help Africa in any way I could. When I saw posters advertising a Four Quarters For Kids club at Creek I couldn’t have been more excited. I turned up at the meeting with a group of giggly friends who didn’t really truly get it. The group listened to Jordan Junge talk about Ethiopia and I began to feel that familiar tug, that need to help.

When I heard about the video contest I initially decided that it was a great idea, but that it was meant for someone else. After all, I had never been particularly video-savvy. But before I knew it, I found myself toying with ideas about a video for the contest. I just kept remembering something Noel had said during his speech at Creek : “For a student at Creek, a quarter might not even be important enough to pick up off the ground”. I guess the rest is history :)

The following months passed by in a blink. I remember telling countless family friends about this incredible trip I was going to take but never truly being able to explain it. After all, I had no idea what to expect—I had never even been to Mexico. I anticipated the trip for months and months without even really knowing what to expect. I even think I tried to make a point of not having any expectations. But eventually I found myself on a plane due to land in Ethiopia in about ten minutes. I turned to Noel and was delighted to see him with a huge boyish grin on his face, doing a little dance (it was a dance that I saw a lot of during the trip!). He turned to me, perhaps sensing my nerves, and said, “Your whole world will change as soon as you get off this plane”. Oh, it did.

Immediately upon stepping off the plane I began to understand what Tammy had meant by ‘Ethiopian time’. But after being hassled by customs, loading our luggage, and finally arriving at the Ararat, I felt ready to really see Ethiopia. I was ready to see the world as I never had before. And I did—that very next day, I was forced to confront my definition of wealth. In a material sense, I was devastated to see just how little these people could live upon. Really truly having nothing is just not something we can understand in America. Poor people in America are rich. On the other end of the spectrum, I was absolutely appalled by the grandeur of the Addis Sheraton. I still don’t understand how Ethiopia can justify such a palace in the midst of such desolate poverty. I also found, however, that Ethiopians have quite a different definition of wealth. I was amazed at the easiness of love in Ethiopia. Groups of children would just run up to me to smile at me and grab my hand. They weren’t asking for money. They weren’t asking for anything but love. This was especially evident at the Mother Teresa’s orphanage and Chavel’s library. At the library, I had been reading to a little girl for fifteen minutes before I realized that we had been holding hands the entire time. It is that easy flow of love that was so pleasantly surprising to me. I realize upon returning to the United States just how cool we really are to each other in comparison. It is that warmth that I think I miss the most :(

Though I learned a lot in Addis, I was thrilled to finally arrive at Project Mercy. Project Mercy is a beautiful place in so many ways. Again, I became very attached to the easy love of not only the Ethiopians but also the members of our group. We all really began to bond those first few nights at Project Mercy. For the first time during the trip, I really felt right, I felt at home. I can really see myself spending a year teaching English at Project Mercy at some point in the near future. I was just so impressed at how hard the classes really were. This is not some sort of a joke of a school—these kids really do learn complex things—the classes were just like some I would take at Creek. I was also so impressed by the work ethic of the students. These kids work so hard just to try to give themselves a future. Every day of school is a gift; it’s a chance for them to become smarter, a chance for them to pass that exam, a chance at a better life. Being home has been really hard in that aspect; I can’t even count the number of times I hear ‘I hate school’ in the course of a day. It just sickens me how little we appreciate the incredible gift that is our education.

One really hard realization for me was the bread at Project Mercy. In America, if you run out of something, there’s always more. Someone can always go grab a few loaves of bread from the back. At Project Mercy, it’s not like that. If they run out of bread, there is no more bread. At the same time, upon entering the lunch room, I was mobbed by kids who were trying to give me a piece of their bread, even with the knowledge that there is no guarantee of bread at the next meal. That is that easy Ethiopian love than I miss so much.

Awassa was another great experience. Seeing Gabe and Kelli so overwhelmed with emotion at the scope of their accomplishments was just incredible. They gave 4500 kids a library who had not had one for 45 years. THAT is amazing. I left Awassa so incredibly inspired. I know how great of an impact a library can truly have now. And I know without a doubt that we can do it.

Being home is bizarre, to be completely honest. I feel far stranger in America than I ever did in Ethiopia. The fact of the matter is that Ethiopia completely changed me—I look at everything differently now. There is a distinct pre-Africa Hannah and a distinct post-Africa Hannah. That is why being home has been so difficult. I am a completely different person, but I have been forced to return to my pre-Africa life. Needless to say, things don’t really fit anymore. This problem is particularly evident with my friends. Ever since Africa, I can pick an Old Soul out from a New Soul almost instantly and I’m trying very hard not to judge. It isn’t really their fault that they don’t understand it—they will eventually.

But more than anything else, I have felt such an overwhelming tide of gratitude for everything that I have that I never even appreciated. I have a warm house that doesn’t flood in the rain. I have my own car, and I don’t need to put a ‘no weapons’ sticker on the window. I have the opportunity to earn a great education and I don’t need to worry about having to leave school early to help my parents make enough money to sustain my family. More than anything else, I have a family that loves me. A complete family with both parents, two siblings, and a cat. And I have the knowledge that all of them will have a good life. And, lastly, I had the experience of a lifetime all thanks to the Cunningham Foundation.

We returned to America just in time to see this year’s speakers at Creek Human Rights Awareness Day. I filed into the auditorium once again, but as a completely different person than I was a mere year ago. This time, instead of settling in to hopefully finish a little math homework, I sat down with ears and heart open. I took a breath through my heart and listened to thoughts so much wiser and so much worldlier than those of only one year ago. Thank you Noel, thank you Tammy. Thank you Ethiopia. I have more love for the three of you than you can possibly imagine :)