Editor's Note: In Chasing Chaos: My Decade In and Out of Humanitarian Aid, Jessica Alexander introduces readers to the realities of life as an aid worker. Alexander was in Rwanda in the aftermath of the 1994 genocide, she managed a 24,000-person camp in Darfur, collected evidence for the Charles Taylor trial in Sierra Leone, and contributed to the massive aid effort to clean up a shattered Haiti. Here, as part of Biographile's Lessons Learned month, a month of authors sharing lessons they've learned while writing their book, Alexander speaks to her time working in humanitarian aid, what she learned, and how it changed her.

BIOGRAPHILE: You give a vivid picture of your early years working in the field, in Rwanda and Darfur, as a naïve and quickly disillusioned beginner. Did you rely on memory to reconstruct those early years, or did you keep journals or other records of that time?

JESSICA ALEXANDER: There were many lonely nights in those early years and I spent much of my downtime reading and writing. I have stacks of journals from those days, which helped me recall specific details. I also sent plenty of emails home and those were very useful in helping me remember what I was feeling at the time and things that happened on a day-to-day basis.

BIOG: The book gives a powerful sense of the frustrations of aid work: the sense that although major problems aren’t really solved, people simply have to move on. A good story, though, relies on things being improved, or changed -- were you tempted to “clean up” the narrative to show the positive impact of aid work?

JA: No. This is a memoir and is as true to the events as I can recall. I didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. Day to day, the work can be trying -- you put in so much effort and then you realize that you have only moved the bar two inches, when it feels like it should have moved two feet, or two miles. There are many trade-offs in this work: spending money on water and sanitation may mean that you won’t have enough money to spend on child protection; helping a population in one area may mean that another equally vulnerable population might go underserved. I try to be realistic about these moral dilemmas, many of which don’t have a clear answer.

There are certainly rewarding moments in this profession, when you can see that you or your agency’s efforts have led to a positive outcome and your work has helped people. But these are often isolated moments on a very small scale – one child who did not previously go to school is now in school; one family that lost its property in a disaster now has a place to rest, one infant who was malnourished is now healthy and thriving. And I think the book is about coming to that realization. I start out very idealistic and then ten years later, I’m still hopeful but much more realistic about what can be achieved.

BIOG: Although well-meaning amateurs often make relief work more difficult, you’re very sympathetic to people’s impulse to help. How do you think charities can change so that those sympathies are more productively channeled?

JA: Americans are some of the most generous people in the world in terms of the money they give to charity. My intention was certainly not to turn people off aid, but instead to provide better insight into what we do and where their generosity can be best channeled. Aid agencies can do a better job educating individuals about our work and our mandates, and can remind them that change takes time and can be incremental. Agencies are part of the problem too – their promotional materials typically overrate what can be achieved and then everyone is disappointed when these things don’t happen, or don’t happen on time.

The best way to make a difference isn’t by showing up to help or by giving gifts in kind -- things that people don’t always want or need (like the Santa costumes or high heels that landed in Sri Lanka after the tsunami or the yoga mats that ended up in Haiti after the earthquake). Usually, the best way to help is to give money. Agencies should educate people about what their money is being used for – that it may be used to feed a family or it may be used to keep a generator running for another hour so that aid workers can keep their laptops on. And donors should be okay with either of those uses.

Another very important role that people can play from home is to engage in advocacy and mobilize around causes they are passionate about. Crises that don’t get much media coverage -- which can have higher death tolls than the most high profile emergencies -- also need support. In some cases, you’re better off lobbying your government than sending food to people.

BIOG: You emphasize that the current aid “industry” is relatively new -- how do you see it evolving?

JA: First, the type and nature of global humanitarian crises that actors are responding is changing. Today, we see protracted armed conflict, chronic vulnerability in both urban and rural settings, and often smaller scale, cyclical disasters (such as droughts, floods and climate extremes) increasing. The settings in which we work are highly politicized and insecure requiring complex and large-scale responses.

At the same time, the humanitarian landscape is changing: local government actors are more active, capable and vocal in crisis management, and affected people are increasingly accessing technologies to voice their needs and provide real-time feedback. They can say what’s working and what isn’t, what kind of assistance has been useful and what hasn’t. Other actors such as the military and private sector are more involved in what was once the exclusive territory of humanitarian organizations. Finally, new models of assistance (such as mobile money and vouchers which put money and choice into the hands of those who have been affected and know what they need) are altering the way we deliver aid. The humanitarian sector is constantly reassessing its role given these changes.

BIOG: What impact do you hope your story will have on those other young idealists who want to go into this profession?

JA: I often see my students romanticizing the work that aid professionals do. I wanted to provide a realistic perspective about the day to day reality: that much of the work takes place in an office and not having regular contact with affected people, the loneliness and frustrations that come with living in some of the most troubled places in the world, the way that this line of work can erode your sense of home and belonging. I certainly had no clue when I started out what I was in for and probably would have gotten a lot out of a book like this. Aid work is a serious emotional and physical commitment.

I like to tell people considering this line of work to be prepared to be a different person when you come out of it. It will change you. Also, this career has many paths – a life in the field, a life in HQ, a life shuffling between both worlds, a life moving from one disaster to another every few months. It’s important that people going into it choose the one that best suits the lifestyle you want, your personal goals, and your interests, and you will be happiest and therefore most effective.

For all Lessons Learned articles, visit the archive here.