My own offering of gratitude goes to the graduates of Hèrè jè Center in Mali who bring deep meaning to my life and purpose to my self-imposed exile living in this tent.

Today I honor Assa Sissoko by sharing her story from my Africa journal

Bamako, Mali, April 2005:

Assa Sissoko guiding her blind uncle

When we first encountered Assa she walked slowly along the street with her blind uncle’s hand resting on her shoulder. Assa, about 11, wore a rag around her hips, a tattered blouse and no underclothes or shoes.  We learned they had come 6 months earlier from their village 2 days walk to Bamako to beg for food. Assa had lost both  parents and was being raised by an elderly aunt.

Subsistence crops were not adequate to feed the village so Assa and her uncle were sent to beg for money, hoping to purchase food staples and return to the village.  Instead, they barely begged enough to feed themselves but every other day. They knew no one in the city and had been living on the streets for months, wherever they dropped each night.

Despite her situation Assa had a gentle positive spirit and smiled curiously at me as Kaaba spoke with her uncle. It was clear Assa was ready and willing; anything was better than begging. It was her uncle we had the hardest time convincing. With river blindness, he would have no one to guide him. Their plan was to return to the village because Assa must help with their meager harvest.

We cajoled and begged, finally convincing the uncle to let Assa join Hèrè jè Center. He reluctantly agreed to meet us the next day. As we drove away, I turned to watch out the back window and saw Assa watching us, a wistful smile of hope on her face. Exhausted and happy, we had located our tenth student.

The next day at the appointed time, we waited patiently on the street. They never showed. We searched for an hour until Kaaba conceded the uncle probably changed his mind or only said yes the day before to get rid of us. There was nothing else to do but go home.  Now it was I who cajoled and begged.  Please can we just try one final time to find them I implored.  Kaaba explained, “it was not her destiny, Carol, let it go. There are plenty of others.”

It was a sad night. I tossed and turned; my nightmares included the leering face of forced labor and child marriage. I felt in my heart Assa was the one.

It was several sad days later on our way home we saw them. Assa’s face lit up with joy when we stopped the car. It took some time but we finally convinced the uncle to let her into the program. Oh joy.

It was a night for celebration in the household. Only a small nagging thought wondered if they would show.  Please let it be her fate to show up.  I think I hardly breathed until we saw them both waiting patiently at the designated corner. I remember giving Kaaba my “I told you so” look.  Her comment, “It was her destiny and the will of God.”

If there are levels of poverty then Assa was at the bottom; the most destitute of all the students. Pape, our sewing instructor at Hèrè jè made Assa three outfits in one day.  I laughed as he shook his head and refused to allow her to touch the new clothes until she had properly bathed.  Holding your nose must be a universal sign.

It was with absolute pleasure I watched Assa on her first day at the center.  She proudly and carefully smoothed the skirt of her outfit; mostly likely the first new piece of clothing she has ever worn.  She is such a gentle soul despite her tribulations.

Assa Sissoko became the youngest apprentice at Hèrè jè Center.

Assa Sissoko

SEVEN MONTHS LATER:  THE REST OF THE STORY

November 2005

Assa has clearly taken to the Hèrè jè culture quickly. Her eyes are bright. Her skin is clear. Her playful personality shines. Assa, like the others, is beginning to trust the possibility of a more fulfilling and creative existence.  Begging is no longer a part of her future.

What a thrill to see Assa’s transformation.  She is thriving under the tutelage of instructors and the stern loving guidance of Tante Kia. I’m amazed at the metamorphosis.  When I see the students after 6 months, I revel in their progress.

Today I had the luxury of observing activities at Hèrè jè. The young women sat around the work table beading. They chatted and laughed, heads bent in concentration, fingers moving swiftly.  We explain how their creations are selling in the American market and how they will share in the profits. I don’t think they really believe it yet.

I noticed Assa laboriously separating a large bowl of mixed colored beads. As she worked we began to chat about designs and colors. I complimented her on the speed with which she was sorting and how seriously she took her task. “We all work together,” she said, “and it’s important we don’t waste the beads when they spill and colors get mixed up. I’m the youngest so I have to separate the beads.”  She wrinkled her nose.

Hèrè jè students understand the value of saving resources.  During their 18 month training, each student builds a savings account with a balance of $150.00 by graduation.  This savings philosophy clearly goes beyond money, as here was Assa, diligently saving the spilled beads, separating them by color.

Assa designing spilled beads jewelry

At one point I asked Assa, “How long do you think it will take you to separate all those beads?”

“Oh days,” Assa replied as she rolled her eyes, “it’s a pretty big bowl.”  I heard Assa loves to create new necklace designs and I could see the frustration in her eyes as she continued to tackle the big bowl of beads.

“So, what might you do with all those mixed beads instead of separating them into each color?” I asked.

She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully.  With a sudden sparkle in her eyes, she asked, “Would it be okay for me make necklaces out of the spilled beads?”

I asked, “What do you think?”

“I think that would be a very smart idea!” she proclaimed.

And so Assa’s “spilled beads” necklace was born.  It’s Assa’s signature design.

EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER: A NEW BEGINNING 2007

In front of 300 Malian dignitaries in the Palais du Congrès, Assa and her sister apprentices graduated from Hèrè jè Center, receiving their diplomas from the First Lady of Mali. Now Assa is a full-fledged member of the Hèrè jè artisan cooperative. She never knew she was destined to become a jewelry designer. All she needed was the opportunity to discover her talents and how to use them. Fortunately for us all, she found that opportunity at Hèrè jè.

Below is Assa on graduation day. (second from the right) Yes, those are tears of joy.

Lori Matsukawa interviewed me tonight for the 6:30 news on KING TV. I can’t believe they could edit and get this online so fast! Amazing team and I appreciated them coming out to support our cause and give it such fabulous visibility! Thank you!!

Check out the story for yourself:  http://www.king5.com/video/featured-index.html?nvid=386979

“Schillios said her goal is to collect $1 from a million people. So far, she’s raised $7,000.

“Small is significant in my opinion. And I want to help celebrate those, and help people to feel good that they are making a difference in the world one person at a time,” said Schillios.

Those who want to donate at the site are asked to put the money in a basket on the sidewalk which Schillios then hoists up.”

Click here to read the full article.

“Carol Schillos has moved into a tent pitched on the roof of her boutique in downtown Edmonds, and she plans to stay there until a million people send her $1 each to benefit her charity, Fabric of Life.

The nonprofit group works to improve the quality of life for women and their families in poverty-stricken regions around the world with focus on affordable credit, education and health care.

But Schillos wants more than just a buck from a million people. She also wants each contributor to tell her how he or she is changing the world, however small the impact.”

Click here to read the full article.

From the Everett Herald:

Carol Schillios has cleared her schedule and her refrigerator. Her friends know not to call the house, but to check her mailbox every few days.

Schillios may not be home for months.

This Friday, she’s moving up. Up a tall, metal ladder. Up to a flat, gray rooftop.

And that’s where she’ll stay, for who knows how long.

Schillios isn’t coming down from the roof of her Edmonds store until a million people have donated a dollar to aid humanitarian efforts and pledged to do one thing to help make the world a better place.

Click here to read the full article.