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Adetokunbo Adeshile, Class of 2009—

 

If there is one truth that you have to live by, even die by, what would it be? My answer is in the essence of children’s smiles, in the vitality of their shouts of joy and from the hopeful demand for attention from those people who tower over them. My answer is in the painful retelling of a sexual assault by someone who survived it. My answer is in the tears of those whom time hath forgotten. The earth, scored with blood and flowing with acid lakes, screams my answer.

 

I believe in the necessity and power of love. I believe in its ability to transform not only the receiver, but also the giver. A group of college students dedicate themselves to holding tutoring sessions in a community building in a low-income housing area. Monday through Thursday, this group comes to tutor and each day, there are children. These children often come from lifestyles that many people would view as difficult. Often times, as it is with all children to some extent, we find ourselves having issues in getting them to listen to the tutors or behave in a calm manner.The question I pose to you is how would you get children to listen to you when there are few ways to discipline them? Of course, you could always send them home. But how productive would that be? How productive would it be to disconnect a child from other children that are in a positive, safe environment with people that are willing to give attention? To me, it does not seem that productive. However, what I have seen work is giving love to these children.

 

There is a child I work with, perhaps a three- or four-year old, who has become more disruptive recently and did not respond to many of the tutors’ statements. Basically, he became the kid that no one knew how or wanted to deal with. The interesting thing therein is the response of my two friends. These young ladies were not afraid to engage the child.

 

Instead of becoming outwardly frustrated or giving up (which would be the easy thing to do), they decided instead to pay closer attention to the young boy. They always interacted with positive energy when engaging him. Like magic, the child eventually gravitated towards these two ladies, or perhaps even vice versa! Over time, it was as if they knew how to work with him, and even when it seemed frustrating they simply continued on.

 

All of this positive energy, care, and specialized attention were all things that fell under one concept: love. It is love which will change the world. I, a bystander, was also changed by their love; I began to show the same signs of loving care to the child and we soon became friends. Love, my friends, is the answer.

 

 

Maggie Ashmore, Class of 2010—

 

Be a leader. Speak up. Tell people what you think. Be the president of a club. Run for student council.

 

These are things that you are told to do in school to be a leader, but I do not believe that you have to be in charge of an event, group, team, program or campaign to be a leader. Many great leaders are only visible to those who remember them; they are not written about in history books.

 

I believe in the power of moments, of the little things in life, done out of the kindness of people’s hearts. These leaders may be quiet, but they are still strong. I believe that you should live your life like a leader, leading by example. When you lead by example, people will notice the little things, such as how hard you work at what you are passionate about, how you treat others, what causes you stand for, and the way you compose yourself. Little things—not complaining, giving everyone some of your time, being loyal, and listening—are small ways that even the shyest people can be leaders.

 

While we need outgoing people with a lot of ambition and the ability to take charge, the people behind the scenes, living their day-to-day lives, can use their own ambition to create change and lead individuals. They can share their knowledge through personal interactions and by example. Everyone should try to be a leader everyday.

 

 

Evan Burks, Class of 2008—

 

For me, the holiday season was usually a time for begrudgingly purchasing gifts for people, even if you were unsure it was what they wanted, much less needed. I practiced the same routine of working, then spending that hard earned cash, wrapping it up and putting it under the tree. Ignoring the grotesque consumerism of the holiday or my feelings of obligation to purchase something to keep the economy growing, it usually made me feel good to give in the end. The problem was that feeling only lasted a short instant, that is until this year.

 

This year my family has decided not to give gifts. No, Christmas is not canceled due to Uncle Scrooge or the Grinch. But rather, in an effort to live a more simplistic life, we will not be exchanging gifts. Instead, we have decided to use that money for something else, something good. I will be donating all of my gift money to a non-profit or charity organization with the rest of my family.

 

This is not an effort to make a moral high ground or scold people who buy and exchange gifts. However, it is an effort to harness my belief that giving is powerful. It has always been said that it is better to give than receive; I believe this is true. The most powerful gifts are those that will enable others to give. In this way, the gift is alive and growing, even breathing. This is the power of giving.

 

So this holiday season, my feeling of anxiety will hopefully vanish. No more malls, no more wrapping, just giving. I believe in getting more for my money by investing in a gift rather than purchasing it. This way it might continue to bring the power of giving to many other people. This I believe.

 

 

Meg Duff, Class of 2011—

 

I remember when looking up at the sky, a deep down knowing azure vastness, was a source of comfort. When the sight of golden leaves, alive with sunlight, dancing against the dark, could make my heart sing. The world was certain, God listened, and voices whispered confidently, “All is well.” But now, like the Psalmist, I walk in darkness. I am unsure of my place in the world. The world, which had hung together so perfectly, is hollow, and the wind rips through it. I look at the trees, and feel an ache. Was it all a lie? I look at the sky, no longer knowing—hard and cold and distant. God has hidden His face.

 

Yet, when I return home after a hard day, someone holds the door and smiles. When I lose my wallet, a stranger loans me a ten. I am amazed. My heart aches with joy and a painfully sweet gratitude. I thought this had been lost. And on the days when I am that kind of stranger, I am doubly astounded. Astounded that life goes on, that sometimes there is good, and that we can laugh in the face of uncertain reality.

 

This I believe: I believe in the power of hope to break through despair, and I believe in the power of people to hope. I believe that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Although I walk in darkness, I believe that somewhere there is light. Although my world is crashing down, I believe that there is beauty to be found in the pieces. These days, I am living in suspense, between the person I was and the person I will become. But this I believe: life is still beautiful. 

 

 

Zohar Gitlis, Class of 2010—

 

I want to study America, the place where I live, because I think that change can only be affected within a sphere of continuity. What I mean is America is the country in which I have lived, grown up, and in which, I plan on spending the rest of my life. As an American Studies major, I will continue to build upon my understanding of what makes someone an American, and what makes American culture particular to this geographical and theoretical space.

 

Getting to know Richmond through my service is an essential part of my American education, and an essential link in the continuity of my American experience. As a Bonner Scholar, I have grappled with hypocrisy in my own work habits, and the structure of the program: working towards my ten hours rather than towards the goals of my community learning agreement; going into Sneedville, Tennessee, without the time commitment, to really get to know the community and help in the necessary ways; and feeling like both the object and subject of philanthropy—receiving the gift of a college education—is only fully achieved if I give the gift of service to the people of Richmond (who clearly “have it worse” than I do).

 

I want to be able to work through these hypocrisies and integrate my beliefs into what I am doing here, and how that relates to the larger pictures and questions in my life.  How is an “American” defined in Richmond, Indiana? What factors go into the creation of this unique Richmond culture? How can I, an outsider, integrate my American experience with theirs in order to work toward a positive, rather than philanthropic, process of change?

 

By making my liberal arts studies here at Earlham an integral part of what I am doing outside the classroom and vice versa, I am arriving at these answers. I am trying to integrate my service here into my ongoing process of understanding the geographical and theoretical sphere in which I have placed myself.  Through that, I am ultimately trying to learn the best ways to affect change.

 

 

Kim Hardy, Class of 2010—

 

I believe in equal access.

 

Sometimes my ambition gets in the way. Since I can remember, I have always held myself to a high standard of achievement and motivated myself with lofty goals. When I approached my graduation from 8th grade, I told my mother that I did not want to go to the same high school all of my friends, classmates, and even my sister were slated to attend. Though she did not support my decision, I completed the private school application in order to gain acceptance to a school that I had chosen for its small yet strong community, academic integrity and excellent art program. With little guidance and a major lack of financial possibility, I managed an acceptance letter and subsequent financial aid package. But this was neither the first nor last time I would follow my heart, disregarding criticisms and obstacles. In the 6th grade, I was able to participate in an expensive but rewarding Outward Bound program; during high school, I was able to live on a farm in Vermont. Through the years, I have orchestrated trips all over the world through my own initiation and much financial and emotional support from my mother. I feel blessed, lucky and privileged to have had such valuable experiences as a result of my own pursuits and interests.

 

However, though these blessings of opportunity can partially be attributed to my own ambition and action, I must also recognize them as a result of my advantage and privilege. To be able to dream is a part of human nature. But to enact and construct those dreams is a less common experience. The context in which we live our lives places so many restrictions on how we are able to live. For many people, there is a list of factors that constrain their abilities to pursue their ambitions freely. Some constraints are beneficial like laws that prohibit murder or theft. But there are constraints, such as lack of sufficient funds or systems of racial and/or gender prejudice, that can be more frustrating to accept because they may be unjust restrictions that prevent individuals from doing positive things for themselves or their communities. One of the most difficult examples to accept is that of education. It is difficult for me to reconcile my access to such expensive and brilliant education when I see so many others prevented from such opportunity, such important access, because of their financial reality.

 

The common reality of perpetuating denied access to positive opportunities in order to realize personal ambition has been a significant motivation for my work with Right Sharing of World Resources. Our role as an NGO is the universalizing of access through redistribution of capital resources in order to facilitate envisioned improvements within families and communities.

 

There is nothing more personally disheartening, disappointing and frustrating than a dream denied, a dream deferred. Through my own privilege and personal access to opportunity, as well as the realization of my own ambitions and objectives, I hope to construct and support more universal access to the resources that allow people to realize and pursue their dreams.

 

 

Taryn Kincaid, Class of 2008—

 

A friend of mine who does community organizing in a mid-sized city in the Midwest was once asked why he chose to pursue this line of work in this city rather than a larger, more politically active or radical city on the coast for example. He paused and replied heartily, “This is where it’s at!” This response hints as some of my own convictions about social change.

 

Social change can be initiated on your doorstep, in your backyard, in your own community. It is not necessary to travel to exotic locales or activist hotbeds to make change. It starts with your own actions and influence. Interactions within immediate social circles can cause a shift in sub culture and create new modes of being, living, doing. Furthermore, knowing the individuals, systems and collective histories of those you work with allows an in-depth understanding that can be used advantageously to set change in motion. Knowing the attitudes, hot button issues, and the most effective channels gives you an ability to know people’s concerns intimately; you induce change in meaningful ways.

 

Affecting change individual-by-individual is not the quickest or most lasting means of change. Systematic and institutional commitments must also be ensured for social change to be written into cultural norms. By building support in these areas, a base is constructed with the strength to influence powerful systems of reproduction. For these reasons, change can happen in familiar everyday experiences between those that you know and groups that you are affiliated with, growing from the most personal and local to greater institutional and cultural levels.

 

 

Erick Lundgren, Class of 2009—

 

I believe the only thing I can ever truly know is myself. In a world where are our opinions are everything and are worn as badges of identity, it is hard to be sure what anyone can ever know. I do not mean knowing oneself in the sense that common culture has relegated it: knowing your likes and dislikes, your favorite colors, what clothes you look good in, the quirks of your personality, etc. What I mean is the self we forget is here—the silent watcher we constantly entertain with whatever catches our attention, the self that is passively watching these words be typed, or watching you read them. This sense of self is difficult to find, difficult to know. Can real knowledge ever be easy?

 

So what we must start with is the internal and external world that surrounds this self. The instincts, the ancient entrenched habits, the self-denying beliefs, the misguided values, the wrong ideas, the nature of our attention, even the right ideas, the empowering beliefs, and the wise values all must be studied.

 

Today, I once again started to think that my purpose here in life is to change things, to make the world a better place, to fix things. My passion rose as I thought of injustice, slavery, the destruction of our own essential world. I forgot myself. I forgot that in the end, I am ignorant of these things. The world is very old. It was moving and changing long before I ever mimicked my parents’ politics. If I can truly know anything about this strange and beautiful and awful place, I have to start at the most essential place: myself.

 

I do not mean to condone or suggest apathy, but rather humility in the face of immensity. We should not disregard our pathos or scorn the genuine feelings we get from doing a job well, whether we helped someone, created something, protected something, or fixed something. These are all jobs, but they should not be our identity. This I believe: the awareness of oneself here—doing this work, feeling the satisfaction one feels from a job well done—is the only way we can live as genuine and free human beings.

 

 

Margaret Obermayer, Class of 2010—

 

I believe in the power of passion. I am not talking about romantic, Hollywood sex-scene kind of passion. I am talking about the kind of passion that drives your life, and shapes your character. I look around at many of my peers, the other 20-somethings of America, and I see a lack of passion. It sometimes seems like all I see is apathy, which is a shame, because passion creates greatness. Not just personal greatness, but great movements that change the course of history. Passion is what drives people to spend their lives working with the homeless, or endless hours doing research. A passion for justice has driven all of the great social justice movements, and even today, you may still see a Vietnam veteran on the street with a sign that says, "Bring them home now!" That is passion is at work.

 

People talk a lot about meaninglessness. They talk about waking up in the morning to a meaningless job, and meaningless activities. Life is about finding meaning, right? For me, the answer to where to find meaning is passion. I have a passion for life, a passion for tasting and smelling and touching things, and meeting people, and experiencing as much as I can. I have a passion for God, and a passion for equality. These are more then just whims or interests; these are things that change my life and the lives of people around me. That is the power of passion.