After the exercise was over, I began rubbing my thumb into my palm, methodical circles, intently focused on the one thing left in my control: cleaning the evidence from my hands.
“The King loves to love the poor!”
His dynamism shook us from our mid-morning stupor. “The King loves to love the poor!” he bellowed again, a grin spreading across his face, desperate for us to get it.
120 people, six shopkeepers, one development agency, a bridge, security guards, loan sharks: the conference room had transformed from an air-conditioned, comfortable space in Lancaster, PA, to the “slums.”
The facilitator transformed too:
“Down on your knees!” he barked.
The poverty simulation was about to begin.