others and, equally importantly, set measures and procedures in place to ensure compliance with professional standards.
To read Mick and Brenda’s story is to discover how ordinary people can do extraordinary things. It is a story of grit and determination to keep going against the odds. The challenge is enormous: some 150 million children around the world do not live with their natural families. The shocking reality is that this is preventable. Many children in residential care have one or other parent living or close relatives who could care for them. As the tide continues to turn toward family-based care as an alternative to residential solutions, there is an urgent need for training, information, and support. The initial impetus came through UNICEF, Save the Children, and other international charities and non-governmental organizations (NGOs). Today it is a global grassroots movement. Mick was an early pioneer of this movement and SFAC has provided training, advice and support in some thirty countries. Mick works with people of all faiths and none, just as I have in my humanitarian and advocacy work. He works with both secular and faith-based aid and development agencies, with government social services and the judiciary.
The principles he works with are universal, the challenges global. Mick is motivated by his strong Christian faith, but his work crosses boundaries of creed and culture. He is not promoting a Western approach but a relational one that can be adapted for very different societies, cultures, and circumstances. It is a holistic vision and an integrated approach. It takes account of indigenous cultures and the features of particular societies. Most importantly of all, it focuses on the needs of the child. This has always been center stage in the work of SFAC. In Mick’s words, “our work is never about us, our faith, our organization, it is always about the child who should be at the center of everything we do.”
I am delighted to hear how, in the UK, the US, Australia, and elsewhere, Christian churches and denominations have adjusted their approach to childcare and child protection. In Africa there are indigenous movements and initiatives with similar aims. They work with churches, community groups, elders, and tribal leaders to find, support, and strengthen safe family-based homes for abandoned children.
Sadly, in some parts of the world inappropriate residential care is part of the problem. Christian, other faith-based, and secular organizations have all done very important work, but some perpetuate the issues SFAC seeks to redress. Children in residential care can become institutionalized, cut off from their cultures and communities, isolated from their ethnic origins and heritage. Evidence shows that children are happier, perform better educationally, and flourish in secure and safe families. It sounds so obvious, but it needs to be said. Children belong in families.
It is important for our societies and vitally important to each child. Thanks to the work of organizations like SFAC, this is increasingly becoming a possibility for abandoned children in many parts of the world. The rest of us can help by aligning ourselves with that ethos and vision, as individuals, as organizations, and as societies. As you read this account, I hope you will be encouraged, inspired, and informed and, however you can, support their work and promote their vision.
Baroness Cox
1 . Cox, Trajectories of Despair, 8.
2 . Boyd, A Voice for the Voiceless, 94–113.
Acknowledgments
“Mick, have you ever thought about writing a book about all this?”
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard that question. If you’ve ever asked it, thanks for prompting me. If you haven’t, I hope you’ll read on and understand why it was asked!
I’m grateful to everyone who has helped bring this book into being.
To Wipf & Stock, especially Matthew Wimer and his team for all their help.
To Phil Williams whose unexpected text triggered the process as I awaited yet another flight and who followed it through. To Natalie Watson for her advice on pitching and publishing. To Jon Wilcox for his diligent copyediting and unexpected knowledge of Burmese traditions! To so many others for their patience and encouragement.
More broadly, I’d like to thank Tony and Vivienne Hodges and other supporters. Without their faithful support, SFAC could not have strengthened so many families and improved the lives of thousands of children worldwide. I thank my parents for coping with me and Brenda for holding on to me. She is my constant anchor and support. I commend Mark and Kevin for finding their own families and following their own calls.
Thank you to everyone who caught our passion and the values we hold. Thank you for trusting and believing in us.
1. The Mystery Man and the Baroness
Mick, this can work in Brazil!
“You have five days to leave the country.”
My Portuguese may not have been the best, but I understood that much. I felt the impact even more when the federal guard scribbled in my passport and pressed the rubber stamp home. Bam! One curt comment, a single jab, and our plans were squashed, our work at an end.
Brenda and I were working at a Brazilian children’s home on tourist visas. We had visited friends in Paraguay and were crossing the border on our return. Like many others, we had seen TV coverage and read news reports of the murders of street children. Restaurant owners, hoteliers, and shopkeepers were hiring armed men to rid the streets of nuisance homeless kids. They called them “the disposable ones.” Off-duty security guards, policemen even, were paid to execute these kids by night. Bang! A bullet in the back of the head, the body dumped on waste ground. No ID, no birth certificate or documents. No name.
These reports shocked the world. They shocked us too. We had to do something. Our two boys had grown up. Mark was studying and Kevin developing a plumbing business. We now had the time and opportunity to try and make a difference. I took a year’s leave of absence from my job as a social worker with Leeds City Council in the north of England. Brenda left her administrative job and we set off. The boys moved into the house and we put everything on hold.
Here we were, six months in, and the whole thing had suddenly collapsed. We were gutted. “Don’t worry,” everyone told us. “This is Brazil. They are so laid-back here. All you have to do after three months is ask the federal police whether you can stay longer. Then, after six months, you can cross the border to Bolivia or Paraguay and come back again. It’s a formality, a quick stamp on your passport and the visa is extended. Everyone does it, missionaries, aid workers. It’s no big deal, no paperwork, no fuss, no questions asked.”
Yes, this was Brazil, but this time, questions were asked. What did we think we were doing, crossing into Paraguay and then back again?
“We have been visiting friends.”
We genuinely had. We stayed a week with friends in the capital Asunción, unlike some aid workers on tourist visas who simply crossed the border, turned around, and walked back into Brazil.
We had crossed the border at Foz do Iguaçu where the conurbation extends as Cuidad del Este on the Paraguayan side and traveled onward by bus to the capital. Now we were stopped at the checkpoint as we tried to return.
“You can’t do this,” said the federal guard. “You cannot renew. You have five days to leave the country.” Stamp.
We exchanged very few words as the coach rumbled through the night and all the
