A Voice of Their Own

Angie in her new car

Everything depends on whether one allows the things and beings with which one lives to have a voice of their own, or whether one instead imposes upon them the schemes of one’s own making.

— Romano Guardini, Letters from Lake Como

I’ve been reading Letters from Lake Como this month with a small group of friends. It’s a series of reflections written nearly a century ago, but it speaks directly to so much of what we wrestle with today — particularly when it comes to how we treat people. Throughout the book, Guardini draws a sharp contrast between encountering the world directly — seeing things and beings in their own voice and presence — and approaching them through the lens of artificial systems and imposed frameworks.

As I read, I kept thinking about the kind of work we are trying to do through Project Dignity. Across the modern world of social services — not just in refugee work, but in almost every sector — there is a natural tendency to create systems and programs that can manage needs efficiently. But as Ismael Hernandez wisely observes, “Too often, the desire to help the poor results in the creation of impersonal systems that replace the human relationships that the poor most need. Instead of face-to-face encounter, they receive services. Instead of solidarity, they experience transactions.”

It is a challenge faced by every large institution, no matter how well-intentioned. The pressures of funding, compliance, and scale almost inevitably drive us toward abstraction. And when that happens, something essential is lost: the voice of the person, the dignity of the face-to-face encounter.

At Project Dignity, we try to move in the opposite direction. We do not begin with a program. We begin with a person. Our first question is not “How do we fit this need into an existing structure?” but “What does this person actually need right now?” It might be housing. It might be a car. It might be help navigating a driver’s test or setting up a bank account. The needs are concrete and particular — and so is the relationship.

Just a few weeks ago, Angie, one of the women we’ve come to know, received a donated car. There was no “transportation program” in place. The need arose, and through a network of relationships, the car arrived — with a lot of human help along the way. It wasn’t a transaction; it was a shared effort born of friendship.

Guardini puts it this way: “What matters is not just that a thing be useful or technically perfect, but that it stand before us with its own face and speak to us, as a tree, a flower, or a human face does.”

We believe the same is true of every person we meet through Project Dignity. Each one deserves to stand before us with their own face — not as a “case,” not as a “client,” but as a person with a voice of their own.

This is what we aim for at Project Dignity: one person, one need, one relationship at a time.