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abandoned children, abuse of power, corruption, ethical failings, florida, foreign aid worker, forgotten US citizens, Honduras, international aid, pensacola, poverty, single mothers, US Aid, US government, usaid
In celebration of my mother’s birthday, I will recount the beginning of me. It is by no means unique, but sadly representative of universal female struggles. I will use my voice, my English, my blog, and the Internet, to leave behind a trace of a story that would otherwise remain silent.
Kenneth Sherman Johnson (center), my mother (right). USA, 1970s.
The man in the picture above is Kenneth Sherman Johnson, a US citizen born on July 30, 1939 in Los Angeles County, California (according to the online source California Birth Records). A retired former USAID worker, currently living in Florida according to online records publicly available.
Documents I have found online here prove that Mr Johnson was a Project Manager for the AIFLD/Honduras project in the 1970s. He could have been either a contractor or a direct hire for USAID/Honduras at the time. What his working status for the USAID exactly was during the period he was assigned to Honduras is not possible for me to determine from my sources. In the years 2015-2016 there was roughly a 10 month period in which we exchanged a few written letters and emails. These constituted the only contact I have ever had with him in my life. In an email he wrote to me in 2016, he confirmed being a FSO (Foreign Service Officer) working in Honduras during the 1970s.
Whatever the exact nature of his professional assignment was, it is certain that he, a US citizen in his late 30s, was working for the USAID in projects related to fighting poverty in Honduras. During his assignment, Mr Kenneth Sherman Johnson began a relationship with my mother (a Honduran citizen), which lasted 12 months to 4 years, according to different accounts. She became pregnant with me. After I was born, he left the country for another assignment abroad. In full knowledge of my existence and of his fatherhood, Mr Kenneth Sherman Johnson voluntarily decided to leave behind a single mother (living in poverty), and me, an unrecognized US citizen, in a third world country to fend for themselves. In the following decades to come, he did not recognize me in any way, manner or form. Neither did he pay any form of child support in any of the years to come.
Kenneth Sherman Johnson and my mother. USA, 1970s.
The first time I was clarified of his existence was in 1995/1996. I saw the two photographs above for the first time in my life on 25th October 2018.
At the time I was born, my existence and his actions were known to other members of the USAID agency in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. I contacted US authorities through different channels inquiring whether there are any consequences he has to bear following his ethically questionable behaviour while on overseas duty for the USA’s government. There are not.
The last email I received from him was dated July 5th, 2017. It’s subject line is: “It Really was Unwise”. So that I remain compliant with laws regarding private documents and GDPR, I will report some text fragments in my own speech, in first person.
Considering his voluntary act of complete abandonment of his biological child in a condition of poverty whilst combating said poverty on an official mission, the following italicized text fragments help to draft a clear picture of his nature:
Stooping to my level; I am nothing to him; I devised a charade; I have pure spite, revenge, dissing him; snotty insults; I am rude; wholly justified bitterness; I inherited intellectual prowess from him (having apparently a 136 IQ); lack of gratitude; share his worst character traits; assignment to relief operations after Hurricane Fifi in 1974; he passed within 6″ of being decapitated by a helicopter tail rotor, therefore, just think, no him, no me, no my husband, no my child; I have a bucolic and uninformed description of my country of birth, Honduras, it being the murder capital of the world; he himself suffering hunger like I did; “paying it forward” by sponsoring lunches for hungry students at the school he now mentors; wondering if I am overweight as a reaction to my past; recommendation to adopt a healthy life-style; my biological grandfather wasting 3 years of his life fighting against Germany in WWII; German things arousing painful memories for him (my nationality is German); does not know how to“atone and make amends;” but he will atone by giving me a profuse apology, and to everyone I have ever met, or will ever meet, for helping to bring me into this world.
He does wish me a long, healthy, and magnificent life with my family. I trashed his inbox with a final, leaving letter; I combined a patronizing, gratuitous shitload of venom with a load of self-pity; I have no gratefulness for my countless blessings, including the gift of life itself. Therefore, gratefulness is not my character trait, the words “thank you” are absent in my vocabulary, I show no gratitude.
I am dense, I act plain stupid, so he and his present wife are disappointed, disillusioned, and in despair because of me. He hopes I am happy I got my revenge against both of them, who wished nothing more than to be kind and welcoming towards me.
My English writing style “really sucks.” So that I learn to write better, he will list a writer’s most precious tool for me, and some useful writing guidelines, for organizing my thoughts and streamlining my narrative. I may or may not wish to upgrade my style. He wishes I had never contacted him as my encounter left him physically ill; he has blocked my contact address, I should not waste time answering.
Mr Kenneth Sherman Johnson, here is your legacy.
©Kenna Lee Edler
Marie N'Zara 