As an expat aid worker (or journalist) you do a lot of talking and writing about how hardcore things are in the place where you are living, working or visiting.
You do this to get people out of their bubbles. You want them to know what is going on. To see what you are seeing and experiencing. To care. To react.
You feel the need to wake people up. To say to them: ‘You have no idea how hardcore it is here. You have no idea what people are going through!’
But sometimes you lose the plot and your narcissism kicks in. You totally change the nature of the story to: ‘You have no idea how hardcore I am because I’m living, working or visiting this place where people are going through terrible things.’
It becomes a contest of who’s the most hardcore.
Because that’s what this is all about anyway, right? You being hardcore?
July 10, 2011 update: This post was sparked by the 2 links below and related discussions on blogs and Twitter but I was unsure about saying so at the time.
Then this morning I read this piece:
And right after that, I read this (including the first comments):
which refers to live-tweeting the visit of a rape victim to the doctor (something that really made me angry at the time):
And so yes, this post was dedicated to Mac, in case it wasn’t clear before.