May Your Dreams Be Realized

It’s the one question every college student anticipates with the beginning of each new encounter: What are you studying? And this is what should be expected because, after all, it follows a comfortable script. A question innocent in intention, the subsequent answer possesses a surprising amount of potential disclosure. In just a few words, the answer paints a full picture of the respondent’s interests, passions and future ambitions.

Answering this question has not only become routine to me, but it also has generated a sense of pride. “Communication and political science,” I respond. But, despite my own interest, I have come to expect familiar feedback.

“Oh, so you’re going to be one of them.”

“What makes you want to work with a bunch of corrupt politicians?”

“Communications and political science? So you’re going to help the government spin the truth?”

While I accept these responses with the realization that they were intended to be taken playfully, I cannot help but feel that at the root of it all lays real skepticism. Whether the jests originate from my relatives at family functions or strangers I meet on the street, this apprehension is a trend that seemingly does not discriminate. Distrust in our government is cross-generational and experienced within all races, socioeconomic backgrounds, education levels, and genders.

Unfortunately, the question of my chosen area of study often leaves me on the defensive. Suddenly I feel the need to justify my interest, as if my desire to work for the federal government is evidence of a deceitful nature within.

Complicating the issue further is the notion that, despite the common perception of a discredited government, the fundamental philosophy of our nation is grounded in ideals such as justice, liberty and opportunity. But it is as though dissatisfaction in our political leaders clouds our memory of a romanticized America. The America that was intended by our Founding Fathers and the Framers of the Constitution. Explaining my interest (I might even call it my love) for politics has become a delicate balance between emphasizing the rarity of our nation’s conception and defending the inherent conflicts of representative democracy.

So here is the expanded version of my defense, the version that I oftentimes am not allotted the time to fully explain.

The first time I became aware of the role of government in my life was September 11, 2001. Until that day, my understanding of politics was generally framed by observing my distant cousin run for state office. Even then, among a sea of yard signs, buttons, stickers, and fliers, I came to see the campaign lifestyle as somewhat fascinating. Seeing him in parades shaking hands and conversing with an array with strangers demonstrated the recognition and admiration that comes with serving a public office. You could say this was the planting of my interest.

But 9/11 was different. Government was no longer glamorous. It was necessary. Only eleven years old at the time, I had a difficult time coming to terms with the severity of the situation. After all, I lived in a small agricultural community in Ohio where our greatest threat was poor weather conditions. There were some clear indicators, however, that the events of 9/11 would change the world as I knew it. Some teachers strayed from lecture plans to allow students to watch history unveil itself. Other teachers fought back tears. The classroom environment was somber, almost to an uncomfortable degree.

The mood at home was not much different. My mother carried worry on her face and I could sense my father’s outrage. Something was terribly wrong and I knew my parents felt powerless to the threats of the modern world. After dinner, I went to my room to watch television. Since we did not have cable, my evening routine usually included ABC News. As I turned on my familiar program, the same images from earlier in the day replayed before me. Even Peter Jennings, an anchor I had become accustomed to, spoke of profound shock as the nation attempted to comprehend the destruction of our once invincible country.

What followed 9/11 is, perhaps, one of the strongest reasons for my interest in politics. Because the response of so many Americans not only exemplified the potential of the human spirit, but also the potential of our unique society. A city known for its impatience transformed into a representation of an unbreakable community. Despite widespread fear and sorrow, patriotism and love of country brought ideologies together for the common purpose of protecting our country and our values. Given a dose a tragic reality, we as a country grew more humble and more appreciative of our freedoms.

How, exactly, is the response of everyday citizens relevant to my argument in favor of politics? Because the spark of patriotism born on 9/11 ignited a renewed sense of pride in our country and it’s ability to overcome hardship. A country that is represented worldwide by the leaders whom the citizens select. Suddenly, Americans looked to these leaders for reassurance and resolve.

Sadly, many of the admirable behaviors of 9/11 have dissolved while negativity still persists. And the frustration is acceptable. Ten years later, we are still at war suffering loss at the hands of extremism.

But we as a nation have faced difficult times before. In fact, conflict and hardship have come to define the true resilience of the American spirit. The Revolutionary War, the Civil War, the Great Depression, World War I and World War II. All are core to the curriculum of American history. And who has come to personify these moments? Our nation’s leaders: George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Woodrow Wilson, FDR.

Today, we face an array of challenges. Our economy is struggling to recover. Unemployment is affecting the wellbeing of many Americans. The flaws concerning education policy are becoming more prevalent. Some argue the moral standards of the country are degrading. All the while, party lines are becoming more defined as the rhetoric between politicians becomes more inflammatory. The behavior of our elected officials is creating two polarizing effects: hatred and apathy. Those with a strong party allegiance are inclined to demonize their opposing party, while those in the middle are becoming frustrated to the point of no longer wanting anything to do with government. And while I believe that some actions and statements have gone out of hand, I also think that many people are forgetting that we have experienced this climate before.

So it is unfair of candidates and politicians to use fear as a tool to motivate political action, as if we are facing the end of America. Rather than exaggerating the Apocalypse of the American way, our leaders should be focusing more on how they can transcend ideological differences to rebuild confidence our government.

And if people doubt that we have faced this level of severity before, I encourage them to place themselves within the context of the Civil War. We were literally on the verge of falling apart over what the two parties could not resolve sensibly: issues revolving around slavery, states’ rights and the election of President Lincoln. But now we see with unity that slavery is unjustifiable. In addition, President Lincoln consistently is ranked among the top American presidents in the history of our country.

Today, we face similarities of a different degree. Democrats and Republicans fail to compromise on nearly every crucial issue, from health care to the debt crisis, racking tensions nationwide. Similarly, President Barack Obama’s executive authority is generating fierce animosity among some irrational minds.

My point here is that, caught in the moment, it is easy for us as a nation to feel that we are dealing with unprecedented circumstances. But, at the end of the day, this is not our nation’s darkest hour. There is unlimited opportunity for us to improve as a nation and times such as these are a reminder of the possibilities to progress. I firmly believe that conditions in our nation will get better and we will continue to be a vibrant society.

So to return to the question I often face: why do I want to be involved with politics? Because I think we can be better. We can always be better. We are not a perfect nation nor should we ever believe that we have achieved such a state. The pursuit of perfection is endless. As Madison stated, if all men were angels, we would not need government. I share many frustrations and concerns as the majority of Americans, but I also believe that these feelings are a justifiable cost to maintaining democracy. I cannot always expect to be satisfied with the way our government is working, but I can expect that I will do my part to improve its flaws.

America has a rich and fascinating history. A history built on aspiration, sacrifice, innovation and patriotism. While my remarks may seem cliché, they are a sincere reflection of my intentions. With the tenth anniversary of September 11 less than a week away, I hope that more citizens reevaluate the moments that have shaped our current political landscape and where we as a nation should go from here.

“Too many people expect wonders from democracy, when the most wonderful thing of all is just having it.”
-Walter Winchell

To Say the Things He Truly Feels

The old adage is true: Money really can’t buy you happiness.

But as it turns out, youth can.

According to a recent Gallup Poll, young adults (18-29 years old) currently have the highest standard of living in the United States, ranking nearly ten points above those individuals with $90K+ annual household income.

The age group with the lowest standard of living? Those between the ages of 50 and 64 years.

While the current state of the economy is likely an influential factor in these results, previous Gallup Polls have consistently found young Americans to be “the most positive about their standard of living since Gallup began tracking Americans’ ratings of it” (Gallup, 2011). While Gallup acknowledges that most young adults do not have the same strenuous financial responsibilities as older generation Americans, their implications state, “Young adults’ more positive standard of living evaluation may also reflect youthful optimism about their economic future.”

Youthful optimism.

This concept comes as no surprise to those familiar with similar research. Dr. Madan Kataria, author of Laugh For No Reason, has found that, in terms of how we express our happiness through laughter, children far out-quantify adults. “Children laugh over 300 times a day whereas adults laugh only 15 times,” states Kataria.

In a society where maturity and professionalism are widely valued among adults, reason restrains free flowing laughter. After all, in the eyes of adults, if there is no adequate ground upon which laughter can originate, than there is no logical reason to laugh. Kataria further states, “children laugh unconditionally while adults only do so if there is a cause.”

We’ve long been taught that laughter is contagious. And with several studies implicating the numerous health benefits of laughter (laughter being frequently dubbed as “the body’s biological drug store”), it’s a wonder why adults aren’t more often seeking this universal gift.

What I’m trying to get at is this: rather than allowing ourselves to be anchored down by the weight of the seriousness of adulthood, I think we can all learn a lesson from the youth that we have somehow ventured from. We are never too old. Never too old to enjoy the nostalgia of our childhood. Never too old to find joy in the simplicity of the things that brought us joy year ago. And certainly never too old to revisit the ambitions we may have long ago laid to rest.

This past June, National Public Radio highlighted a story featuring Leo Plass, who recently graduated years after being forced to drop out of college just three credits short of a degree due to financial troubles. Leo Plass returned to college and received the long-awaited degree at 99 years of age.

According to Plass, “It was really something out of this world.”

Around the same time Plass was graduating college for the first time, 99-year-old Gilbert Herrick married for the very first time. Herrick told reporters that he “never found the right girl til [he] found her.” His new wife, Virginia, added, “We both feel we’re gonna have a good time no matter what. So if it’s something we’re too frail to do it too bad, we’re going to do it anyway” (NBC News).

Even though both of these stories exemplify the far end of the age spectrum, they reinforce the statement that, while a number may illustrate age, spirit and enthusiasm truly reflect how old an individual is.

So you’re never too old to…

Lick the bottom of the bowl. Go back to school. Start a new hobby. Learn a new language. Laugh for no reason. Eat pancakes at midnight. Read Dr. Seuss. Fall in love. Search for a new job. Volunteer. Stay up all night. Play hide-and-seek. Run through sprinklers. Write a book. Teach yourself to cook. Swing. Go camping. Sing in the shower. Make a snowman.

Reclaim your youth. After all, it once belonged to you.

Song recommendation: “You Could Be Swingin’ on a Star” – Bing Crosby

Bucket List

I have spent the past several weeks brainstorming my next big blog topic. Something I could really delve into and could lead me to creating some eloquent, thought-provoking work of genius. But every time I go searching for a new and unexplored topic, I keep returning to the same territory. It’s a project I’ve long considered, yet have managed to continuously put off. And with summer providing me new friendships and therefore new inspiration, I am finally going to start with what I hope is to be not only a endlessly growing bucket list, but also an achievable of such sorts. Without further procrastination, here it is: the beginnings of my bucket list and the multitude of things I hope to accomplish before I die. Expect updates, because I anticipate me coming to the forefront of exciting new possibilities.

Oh, and I’ve included a few that would have been on my bucket list before I completed them in order to provide myself a reminder of the thrilling things I have accomplished.

1. Graduate college
2. Move to Washington, D.C. and start a new career
3. Adopt a dog (the bigger, the better)
4.  Go skydiving
5. Travel to another country (as many as I can)
6. Learn how to shoot a gun
7. Visit some of the U.S. National Parks (Grand Canyon, anyone?)
8. Go skiing
9. See a real life waterfall made by nature
10. Have my writing published somewhere
11. Go to Disney world (void in my childhood)
12. Take my parents on a nice trip somewhere
13. Ride on a motorcycle
14. Grow a vegetable garden (I currently care for a tomato plant)
15.  Take a tour of the White House
16. Do a walk for a charitable cause
17. Take a Zoomba course
18. Take a picture with a recognizable celebrity
19. Get married
20. Teach a classroom (Teach for America?)
21.  Get a tattoo
22.  Leave an anonymous note to a stranger reminding them that life if beautiful
23. See fireworks in D.C. for the 4th of July
24. Lobby for a cause
25. Buy a house and paint the rooms whatever colors I want
26. Go on a cruise (preferably Alaskan)
27.  Build a kite and fly it
28. Memorize a popular poem
29. Go on a spontaneous road trip to anywhere
30. Sail on a sailboat
31. Ride on a hot air balloon
32. Get a massage from an actual spa
33. Donate blood
34. Volunteer with Habitat for Humanity
35.  Read The Davinci Code
36. Work as a holiday bell ringer for the Salvation Army
37. Shake hands with a previous or current President of the United States
38. Play BINGO with senior citizens before I am a senior citizen
39. See a Broadway musical (ON Broadway)
40. Rollerblade the entire Slippery Elm trail (26 miles, so far my best is 21)
41. See exotic animals that I’ve seen in the zoo in their natural habitat
42. Look at planets through a legitimate telescope
43. More to come…

Our Best Teacher

“Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity.”
-Charles Mingus

It’s a lesson we’ve all heard from those surrounding us: happiness is an art mastered through the enjoyment of the simple things in life. While things such as monotonous workplace tasks and financial woes may occasionally sour our attitudes, maintaining a fundamental optimism in the nature of life is one of the simplest – yet beneficial – ways to perpetuate toward an overall improved state of well being.

Lately, my optimism has been found in the good deeds of others. Sometimes the most minimal act of kindness is the most impressionable moment of the day.

Whether such an act benefits you directly or you merely witnessed one between other individuals, discovering the readiness of others to selflessly radiate any degree of kindheartedness is feeling of unexplainable instant gratification.

So today, I dedicate a few moments for just some of what I am sure is many random acts of kindness that have grown into reminders of life’s simpler pleasures found at the root of compassion and altruism.

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In high school, I was provided the opportunity to work as a poll worker for a special election following the death of our congressional representative. Quickly recognizing the chance to get myself involved with the democratic electoral process (and get paid to be excused from classes for a day), I immediately offered to work. Assuming my day would be spent assisting less technological suave voters master the electronic voting machines, my expectations of the day did not exceed the basic self-satisfaction of helping aid our country’s political process.

While waiting for an available machine, an older gentleman began making small chat with me. Always up for friendly conversation, I happily obliged and began answering his inquiries as to why I decided to work that day for the Board of Elections (apparently this is somewhat rare of a seventeen year old to do). As the conversation progressed, we somehow realized we had a common interest in barbershop music (and I am aware that, again, this is somewhat rare of a seventeen year old). Around this point in the conversation, it was his turn to vote.

I continued my responsibilities, assuming that the man would quietly slip out after he finished voting. However, he approached me afterwards and handed me two tickets to an upcoming concert that featured his barbershop chorus. Of course I profusely thanked him, all the while being caught off guard by his generous gift.

I attended the concert with my choir teaching later that week. While I never spoke to that man again, I still vividly remember the benevolence he showed during the one conversation we shared.
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Earlier this past spring, I was suffering from a typical spell of final examination woes that comes routinely each semester. Feeling overwhelmed with projects, readings, tests, and a lack of meal plan money to provide lunch for the week, I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown. I eventually conceded to my need to purchase lunch and accepted the fact that I would have to use my debit card to purchase lunch (everything seems much more dramatic during finals, even spending five dollars for lunch). While waiting in line at the cafeteria, I noticed that my supervisors were standing in line in front of me. We began through the typical script of “How are you” based questions. When one of my supervisors stepped up and offered to pay for all of their meals, I jokingly added, “So you’ve got mine, too, right?” Expecting him to fully joke back, I began mentally preparing my next comedic line.

But to my amazement, he simply said, “Of course.”

I politely added that I was only kidding and that he did not need to feel obligated to buy me lunch. He insisted, though. I of course broke into a mini monologue emphasizing how he, in that moment, exponentially improved the course of my day. He kindly laughed, and I am not sure that he realized how serious I really was.

I spent the rest of my in a calmer state of mind with the reassurance that a happy life was more permanent than a week of final exam stress.
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During one of my recent trips home, I went to Bob Evans with a few friends to catch up on each other’s lives. While seated at our table, I noticed that the little girl seated at the table across from us kept looking over at me and smiling. Feeling compelled to kindly acknowledging this girl, I complimented the fun curly straw that she was drinking out of. Something along the lines of, “That’s a really nice straw! I wish my straw was as fun as yours.” She giggled and continued to eat relatively quietly with her family. I, too, continued my meal without cause.

While the little girl’s family was packing up to leave the restaurant, she approached me at my table and handed me a curly straw different from the one that she had been drinking from. Her mom told me that she asked the waitress for an extra straw so that she could give it to me. I instantly thanked her and could not stop smiling for the rest of the meal.

It may seem silly, but the simplicity of a young child’s kindness is perhaps the purest form of generosity. It isn’t embedded in greed or profit, but rather what seems like a genuine fondness of others.
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It isn’t always easy to recognize acts of kindness, especially when you are not the recipient of the act. However, with a careful eye, it is possible to observe an exchange of kindness between others. Oftentimes, this is just as enjoyable as being directly involved. I’ll share one of my personal favorites.
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I have always considered both of my parents to be extremely selfless and generous people. Those are often characteristics of the best kinds of parents. My mother, in particular, has taught me that kind deeds need not be heavily praised and recognized to have a significant impact.

An avid gardener, my mother has throughout the years transformed our yard into a pristine canvass full of a spectrum of colorful buds. A transformation that required hard work and determined devotion, my mother’s delicate flowerbeds received similar maternal protection that her own children had growing up. In other words, my mother would not and still does not tolerate the mistreatment of her gardens.

One day several years ago, my mother recreated an exchange between herself and a young girl walking to my local elementary school. While out in the yard one morning, my mother noticed that little girl rummaging in one of her flowerbeds. When my mother asked what the girl was doing, she explained that she wanted to bring the pretty flowers to school as a gift to her teacher.

Outcomes are often determined in an instant moment, and in that moment, my mother stopped her busy morning routine to teach the young girl how to properly pick flowers. My mother wanted to make sure that the flowers were safely extracted so that they could be healthily delivered to that young girl’s favorite teacher.

Obviously, the girl’s inclination toward providing her teacher with fresh flowers is heartwarming in and of itself. However, it was my mother’s response that demonstrates the variety of kindness that is easily overlooked. Rather than get upset at the little girl for what can be misconstrued as destruction, my mother nurtured the girl’s good intentions without expecting anything in return.

It’s the act of kindness that allows other acts of kindness to come to fruition.
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Acts of kindness often have a domino effect. They encourage others to spread the joy that they themselves have received from another. Through this chain, the courses of people’s lives can dramatically change for the better, no matter how small the act. A basic appreciation of these moments provides humanity with mild dose of humility and comradery.

Who Needs Shelter From the Sun?

Seasons are peculiar things. Each passing season – winter, spring, summer, and fall – elicits different emotions and also provides opportunities unique to each particular period.

Let’s start with winter. Undoubtedly my least favorite season of the year, winter is often cold, harsh, and unrelenting. In its greatest depths, winter brings about a bitter cold that bites your innermost being and threatens your comfort with snapping winds. Frozen to the point of motionlessness, the trees appear to have lost all life as the ground beneath them is covered with a white blanket of snow. Some animals submit to a season a slumber, while others retreat to more favorable destinations. And just when you think winter is retreating, it often comes back more ruthless than before, reminding you not to get your hopes up that spring may soon come around.

But even winter’s hostility contains beauty. Have you ever witnessed your glittering surroundings after an ice storm? The way the sunlight hits the branches above can only be described as magical. An open field of uninterrupted snow stretching great lengths holds frozen tundra that can only be appreciated during the year’s coldest season. Falling snow, though oftentimes intrusive, can also eliminate daily grievances and fill us with childlike enchantment and wonder. Beauty originates from perspective.

Perhaps my favorite time of the year directly follows my least favorable. The emergence of spring after a long, dark winter is like waking up from a restful sleep. The world seems new and promising. The air is comfortable and easy to breath, and even its smell reveals an element of purity. The thawing ground beneath becomes soft, acting as a springboard with each and every step. The rainstorm showers the world completely and washes away any last hold winter clinches onto. Of course, the most beautiful aspect of spring is the promise of new life. As the trees blossom their cherry dyed buds, flowers emerge from nourishing soil and nature appears to be invigorated.

With its new life, spring also brings about simplicity. No need for thick warm jackets. Instead, we return to the basics. No longer is it necessary to avoid the cold outdoors. Rather, we take long bicycle rides and enjoy lengthy walks that allow us to bask in the perfection of this season. Spring is exciting, refreshing, inviting, and, most importantly, promising.

But as the mercury climbs and spring slowly transitions into summer, we must accept and welcome the change that is beyond our control. The days beginning to grow longer, while the nights shorter. We continue shedding layers to accommodate the rising heat while finding new adventures to satisfy our thirst for adventure. Life is suddenly viewed through a carefree scope as we enjoy company by the water’s edge. Sand below and clear blue skies above, the sun permeates every rolling hill as it hangs high in the sky. As we lay in the sunlight, we are covered by a blanket of warmth slightly resembling that blanket of snow provided by opposing winter, but differing in the heat it brings.

We are rewarded each summer night with a noble sunset congratulating us on the accomplishments of our extended daytimes. Unless, that is, the sun is blocked by an oncoming storm. But even that is a thing of admiration. With each flash of a lightening filled sky, we are provided a spectacle often imitated but never duplicated. The full-grown leaves wrestle against the wind, holding tightly to their life source. Subtly, they remind us that each of lives storms eventually passes and, once trapped in the past, we are left with the realization that we are capable of withstanding their strength.

Summer’s oasis cannot last forever, though. As the year reaches its climactic peak, it begins to dwindle and retire back to its hibernating state. As the hours of sunlight significantly decrease, the temperature is commanded to do the same. The leaves loose their green exteriors and are instead replaced with handsome shades of yellow, red, orange, purple, and gold. The world becomes lives canvass, filled with magnificent masterpieces that artists have long dreamed to achieve. Nature speaks through the whispers of crisp leaves covering the ground. We are humbled and reminded to prepare for the cold months ahead.

Right before the start of a new winter nature takes one last deep breathe, shedding the remaining foliage and cooling the atmosphere before shocking us with another frigid winter.

Seasons are not new concepts. I have experience twenty rotations of the seasons, and the only difference in these seasons has been me. How I have grown to view the world and how I have adapted to the changing seasons of my own life. Even when February has me frozen beyond any recognizable comfort, I continue to seek warmth until spring emerges once more.

One

A lot can change in a year.

A year ago I was someone completely different. To sum it up as easily as possible, I was naive. Sure, I had experienced disappointment and hurt. But a year ago was different. It was truly earth shattering and life altering. We, as humans, often like to philosophize what happens after we die. Where do we go? Who else is there? What does it look like? The imagination runs wild and free, and we are each given the opportunity to create our own afterlife. But it isn’t until you have to picture a friend there – a friend barely older than yourself – that you really begin to challenge the existence of everything around you. Losing a friend much before his time by an unpredicted accident is indescribable, especially when you know that this friend was meant for greater things. Not a life of normality, but rather a life filled with promise and hope for a better world.

Perhaps no one has been able to sum it up as well as ESPN writer John Buccigross: “But Brendan Gilmore Burke’s death is an even bigger loss for the people in the future who would have known and experienced him just once or on a daily basis. I feel the loss the most for these unknown faces. Because during the next 21 years, they will never see the light.”

Each day, I wonder if I am moving further away from Brendan or one step closer. Either way, his death has prompted me to change in ways no other event could have. Although I will never have his charm or his grace, I sincerely try to be that light for others as he was for the people in his life. Oftentimes I falter, tripped by my own imperfections. But I have now acquired the awareness that tomorrow is not a guarantee, so it is best to seize what moments you do have. This is a huge transition for the girl who has spent the first twenty years of her life constantly anticipating what is to come next. While I haven’t completely shed my natural tendency of planning too far in advance, I am making it my goal to better balance my present with my future, all while learning from the past without letting it inhibit me.

So, B, where do I start? What have I learned this past year? I’ve learned that although people deserve to be treated with kindness, that oftentimes isn’t the case. But with that, I’ve learned that each person is capable of stepping up to fight injustice and mistreatment. I am still in awe of the effect your life has had on so many people, even those who have never met you.

I’ve also come to appreciate the value of family. This year has been full of incredible highs, but also tainted with grim lows. But through it all, family is always the one remaining constant. This doesn’t only include the family you share through heritage, but also the family you create with your most valuable friends.

One whole year. I had to say goodbye. I watched my family support each other. I lived in an unfamiliar city on my own. I lobbied to make a difference. I branched out and made new friends. I finally put some fears to rest. But I’m still dealing with others. I welcomed my nephew into the world. These are only a few of my biggest moments in the past year.

Before I finish up, there are a few things I’ve left unsaid for quite some time. I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye. Truly. Or tell you how much you mean to me. Or stopped a few more times on the street just to chat, rather than worry about being late to class. I’m glad that, in the time that we did share, there were a few small moments that I made sure to say ‘I love you’ or ‘you’re so amazing’. Or even ‘you’re too handsome it isn’t fair’. I’m so proud of everything you’ve done and am so grateful that I was lucky enough to have you in my life. My favorite memory is still the first night we met. We talked for hours and I was so amazed that a complete stranger would reach out like that, and with such ease. I loved our walk home and it still remains one of the greatest acts of kindness that I have personally encountered. Or the stairwell talk we had Halloween weekend. These were everyday moments that have grown to cherished memories. I still have the last text you sent me, and I’m afraid I’ll never get rid of it. It was completely ridiculous and I still laugh when I think about it.

And I think you still owe me 10 bucks. But it’s alright, because I owe you so much more.

I still don’t know what I believe happens to us after we die. But it has to be something incredible, especially for people like B. I still struggle to understand why this ever happened. Maybe I won’t ever understand. But if I could have never met you to spare myself the hurt and confusion, I would still have opted to have you in my life. I’m a better person now.

I miss you. Thanks for watching over us.

Man on the Moon

Today in my Political Science course, my professor said a statement that really, in my personal opinion, was thought provoking. He spoke of how, in order to be a renowned individual, it was not enough to top those who came before you, but rather you had to be the first to accomplish something. In other words, while landing on the moon is a major achievement for an astronaut, it will never be as renown as being the first to do so. So my question for all of you is do you agree or disagree with this statement?

Being a trailblazer is no easy task. It takes courage, commitment, and faith that your actions will benefit the greater good. Even if you are not sure of the end result, being a first means that you must preserve through your doubts and insecurities to accomplish anything. Think of the many social movements throughout history dealing with racial, gender, and sexuality. How did these movements start? With the steps of one or a few individuals who say and opportunity for social improvement and recognized the need for someone to give the movement some push against society’s inertia.

With that being said, is it fair to discredit those individuals who came after the initiator? What if those who follow do more to progress a movement than the individual who started it? Followers may follow under two circumstances: either 1) they are initially too afraid to join and only choose to do so after the terrain looks safer or 2) were unaware of the circumstances that began the movement and sought to participate immediately upon discovering the issue. While both categories are important to any progression, those who fall within the second may have the same amount of passion and motivation as the individual who started it all. Again, the only difference is that the follower lacked the same information as the initiator during the first realization of a problem or an opportunity.

Perhaps this follower wasn’t even around when the movement began. But say, perchance, this person ends up contributing more than any of those before him/her. Who is held with the highest renown then? Or, what if this person takes the previous work of another and moves it toward a different direction. How is credit distributed then? Personally, I don’t have any definite answer. It’s just a perplexing topic to think about.

Let’s take a tangible example from my own life. My first teacher, my kindergarten teacher, was absolutely perfect at her job. Not only was she beautiful enough for my 5-year-old self to consider her to be a real-life Barbie doll, but also she was patient, kind, loving, and fair to each and every one of her students. Because of her, I grew up with an optimistic view toward public school educators and their abilities to inspire youth. However, despite the fact that she was my first teacher, she was not my most influential and did not play this biggest role in shaping my perception of educators. In fact, this did not occur until I was in high school, where I worked closely with a teacher who went above and beyond her duties as an educator and became a mentor that encouraged me to better myself not only in the classroom, but also in most every other facet of my life. This perfectly demonstrates that, while the ‘first’ played an essential role in my education, it was one of my teachers that followed who touched my life the most.

Conversely, I have a friend who I would consider a trailblazer in his own right. Brave, intelligent, and ambitious, he certainly has set standards and forged new paths. Because of his initial steps to create change, I’ve been inspired to contribute myself and have, as a result, sought opportunities that I may not have considered without his influence in my life. In this case, having a friend such as him for the first time has prompted me to better myself and worked toward bettering an issue that I care strongly about.

Maybe the focus shouldn’t be who should receive the most recognition but rather who receives recognition at all. It’s an accumulation of many individuals throughout a period of time whom make the biggest difference, not just one person who gets the ball rolling. Regardless, I can’t help but reference a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson that I’ve thought about a lot lately: “To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and affection of children…to leave the world a better place, to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

To accomplish any degree of positive change in to succeed.

Don’t Forget to Flush

Several years ago, I was told “a leader will always flush the toilet while others walk to the next stall”. Of course, I initially laughed. Can a true leader be the person that flushes the waste of the person who used the stall before them?

Even though I found that statement humorous, those words have stuck with me. Whenever I walk into a stall with an unflushed toilet, it’s as if those words are being spoken in my ear all over again.

And those words couldn’t be more right. It is the leader who flushes the toilet. Maybe not always literally, but in some way or another. Being a leader means doing the work most people simply walk away from. No exceptions, no excuses. Whether it’s difficult, frightening, unknown, or even gross, a leader refuses to walk away and leave the task for someone to resolve. In terms of that porcelain bowl, it is the leader that cleans up the mess, rather than turning away to use the next stall.

Funny how something so elementary can represent a person’s true character.

What about the messes of today? Between a shattered economy, damaged environment, and outdated social policies, there is plenty to be cleaned. And who do we expect to take care of these issues? Our elected leaders. While I believe these individuals have the leverage and influential power to make progress, I also believe that there is more that we can do.

Instead of seeing the mess and leaving it for someone else, we all need to do our parts and flush the toilet. Sure, one flush won’t clean out all the messy toilets of the world. And it won’t prevent someone from going in after you and making a mess again. But if no one ever took the initiative to flush the mess someone else left behind, think of how much worse that mess would be. In other words, it may be an unpleasant task to do something that someone else should have taken care of in the first place, but by stepping up and doing it yourself, you can assure that it is actually done.

So what do you want to see done? Do you want your community park to be a cleaner, more welcoming environment for families? Or maybe you’ve been waiting for your city to install speed bumps to make your neighborhood safer. Perhaps you want to see equal rights extended to more American citizens. Whatever it may be, it is important to then ask yourself whether or not you are taking steps to see the change happen. And if you aren’t, why not? Are these reasons justifiable, or are you making excuses to avoid a challenging and maybe even terrifying responsibility?

I’ve learned to always flush the toilet.

More Questions Than Answers

I’ll admit it: I’ve become a negligent blogger. It isn’t because I’ve run out of things to say, or that I’ve stopped contemplating life around me. In fact, quite the opposite is true. I’ve been thinking more and, as a result, have become even more perplexed with everything about life.

I wish there was one easy statement to quickly reflect that changes that have occurred in my life over the past several months. Unfortunately, there isn’t. I’ve experienced the sudden loss of a true hero, watched family deal with unforeseen grief, helplessly stood on the sidelines as a sibling faced a life changing truth, and forced myself to step far outside the outermost limits of my comfort zone. All separate experiences over a period five months. Needless to say, it’s been a tough pill to swallow.

I have always prided myself on being an optimist. On being the girl who could flawlessly spot the silver lining in a gray cloud. But my ability to do so has been hindered lately. And it scares me. Where did this optimism go? Where did the notion of “everything happens for a reason” disappear to? It’s left me more questions than answers, and it troubles me to think that the unyielding optimism might be gone for good. I still consider myself an optimist, recognizing the good things in life. But is isn’t so blissfully done.

All of this has left me wondering, “Is this a part of growing up?” Have I reached that point when I start realizing that life can’t always put the wind at my back and the sun upon my face? I never believed that life would be easy, but I guess I just didn’t expect for things to be so challenging.

I don’t want to say, “life is hard”. Instead, I use the word challenge. Why? Well, for two reasons. The remaining optimist in me says that I am truly blessed and that it is important for me to recognize these blessings. Saying that it’s hard sounds too winey for me. Also, challenges can be overcome. You can conquer a challenge and come out a better person for it. Therefore, life has challenges.

Maybe a little cynicism is healthy. Maybe it keeps me from blindly believing that life’s many events will always produce positive outcomes. Does everything happen for a reason? I’m beginning to think not. Or maybe, if it does, it doesn’t happen for the best reason. We are often led to believe that when something bad happens, it does so to produce something even better. I just don’t think that’s always true anymore.

I haven’t come any closer to understanding why I lost a friend forever. I worry that, in the pursuit of my dreams, I am ruining family ties. I am still facing disbelief that, before this year is over, I will be an aunt. I wonder what will be the ultimate payoff for taking a risk in an unfamiliar place.

This must be growing up.

So what have I learned? That you can’t count on tomorrow, so it’s best to live today.  That family will always be family and to not take their love and support for granted. That life isn’t required to follow traditional timetables and throws many unexpected surprises. And that sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t immediately prove itself helpful, but it’s best to do it anyway.

Apparently the optimist inside of me is still fairly strong.

In the Name of Love

“It is the sweetest thing; it is a red, red rose; it is a battlefield;
it is a drug, a delusion, a lunacy. It is the answer, and the
question. It is a balm, and a piercing arrow. H. L. Mencken
compared it to perceptual anaesthesia; Keats wrote that it was
his religion; Shakespeare called it a familiar, a devil, an ever-fixed
mark, a smoke, a fire, a sea, a madness, a fever, a choking gall;
it is like sunshine after rain, and does not bend.”
– Sarah Vine and Tania Kindersley
The Times (London)
February 14, 2009

We live in a society consumed by love. Stories of love have served as the centerpiece to most every book, play, movie, and song for hundreds of centuries. Even Plato has something to say about love: it is a mental disease. From an early age, we are conditioned to believe that finding love is life’s true calling, and without it we are incomplete. As written in a January 2008 article titled “A four-letter word that takes time to learn” published in The Canberra Times, “The L-word is one of the most hyped-up in the English language. We are told love is all you need, love conquers all, love holds us together, love comes to those who wait. We begin to think of it as some almighty force with the power to save, or destroy a relationship in one fell swoop.” Does love serve a biological purpose, as it does not take love to reproduce? How much of our desire to fall in love is biologically based and how strong of an influence does culturally based expectations have on our yearning to find our own fairytale romance?

Antonia Senior of The Times (London) once wrote, “We have been bequeathed an idea that the ultimate goal is love; that the answer to the fundamental questions of the why and how of life are found in a ditzy, sugar-crusted fairytale. We have based an entire civilization on the idealized pursuit of a temporary hormonal imbalance in the brain.” Here, Senior takes the viewpoint that love is something that has been over emphasized to the point of becoming the main objective of human existence, when it is just a spurt of biological disparity. While the remark of love being a ‘hormonal imbalance’ may be too discrediting of such a mysterious phenomenon, cultural influence has forced society to make a terrible fuss over the need to fall in love.

French cynic La Rochefoucauld once said, “People would not fall in love if they had not heard love talked about.” And how can we not hear about love? Even at an early age, children grow up on Disney films where, the majority of the time, there is some variation of a fairytale ending. Messages of love do not ease up with age, either. Growing up in the 90’s, the most popular songs held titles like, “I Will Always Love You”, “Vision of Love”, “Only Wanna Be With You”, “You’re Still the One”, “I’ll Be”, and “Can’t Live Without Your Love and Affection”. These titles alone are enough to represent the common love theme. These themes continue to live in the first decade of 2000, with such love story centered movies such as Moulin Rouge, Slumdog Millionaire, Shrek, Finding Neverland, and Brokeback Mountain stealing box office attention. With the constant saturation of love-against-the-odds-and-at-all-costs stories in everyday culture, it is no wonder that almost everyone is racing to find love of their own.

There is nothing else in society that perpetuates us to do crazy and irrational things. As Vine and Kindersley wrote in The Times, “[Love] is what drives you to offer yourself to another human for the rest of your natural life, but only a few years later you may look back and have no memory at all of that initial ecstasy. Romantic love can be so confusing that sometimes you simply want to give up on the whole thing and concentrate on the nature of dark matter, or macroeconomics, or something else less tiring.” Personally I have more experience with macroeconomics than love, but the concept of love still fascinates me. Though there are over twenty definitions of love in the dictionary, for centuries people have struggled to actually define and explain what love truly is. Intangible and subjective, the meaning of love is endlessly varying dependent on the source.

Love is essential to an enriching life. But is romantic love meant for everyone? Perhaps cultural expectations have caused people who would have otherwise disregarded romantic love to think that is was a necessity to the human purpose. It is possible to lead a fulfilling life without a significant other, in fact people do it all the time. But these ‘love minorities’ are what the love majorities fear: a lifetime of supposed loneliness from the missing element of sharing a life with a romantic partner. Isn’t the love of family and friends enough, if one so chooses it to be? Why try to fit yourself into a love structure that you may not see yourself fit for?

I’m guilty of being in the love majority, fearing living out the rest of my life without knowing what it means to romantically love another. However, I can sympathize with those who feel that romantic love may not be suitable for them. Just as I don’t believe in soul mates, I also believe that some individuals can lead just as satisfying lives without romantic commitment as those who choose to journey through life with another. The pressure these individuals face to find love is unfair given their own personal needs. After a Thanksgiving holiday with the family constantly chirping, “So are you dating anyone?”, “When are you going to bring a boy home?”, and “Chelsea, you need a boyfriend!”, I fully understand the frustrations of dealing with the culturally, and family, based pressure to be in love.

Love, being as impossible to grasp as it is, is something I continue to think about in daily life. Its representation in society and media continues to remain a popular trend and constantly redefines what is acceptable for love. Instead of trying to fit love in a Hollywood or fairytale form, however, perhaps it is time for people to approach it in their own individual way, realizing that what is desirable for some may not be desirable for others.