Giving Back

A few days ago I finished reading “The Freedom Writer’s Diary,” a compilation of diary entries by a group of teens who, with the direction of an inspiring young English teacher, found a way to respond to the violence, prejudice, drugs, and broken families that threatened to deprive them of a future. They found people in literature who shared similar circumstances, such as Anne Frank, Zlata, the Freedom Riders, and others.
It reminded me that I have led a charmed life compared to such, and despite the challenges and sorrows I have faced, there is much I take for granted. I don’t have to worry about being shot when I walk out my door; there isn’t graffiti anywhere on my street; gangs don’t hang out at bus stops waiting to pound someone; I don’t have an abusive father or boyfriend; I’m not dependent on drugs to get me through the day. Here, kids can ride their bikes down the street, neighbors wave hello, people have yards to plant flowers in, and the sound of ambulance sirens wailing in the night is fairly rare (and usually doesn’t mean someone has been shot).
Not too long ago, I felt that since I had opportunities and experiences in life that a lot of kids don’t have, I should give back to society in some way, and give others the chance for Opportunity. By teaching (even if it wasn’t by teaching “essentials” such as reading, math, or science), I felt like I was giving back in some small way, giving kids the opportunity to find something comforting, a voice through music. Some of the kids have found their “voice” in it, something special that is their own, that they enjoy or are good at, and many will find their voice in something else. I still feel this way, but have come to a better understanding lately that teaching is not my strongest gift. I do well enough, and have become a stronger person because of it, but teaching is not what I do best nor is it an end goal. I have wanted to go to graduate school ever since I discovered my truest gift, the thing I do best and most enjoy doing.
Is it selfish of me to want this still, would I be stealing from humanity by leaving my current position and my students to a potentially disappointing change? Or is it worse to live with the heartache of unfinished business, a dream yet unfulfilled, a gift silently waiting to be set free? Have I been caging the butterflies, hiding the sunlight behind a dark curtain, and stealing off to a secret garden, all until the time drawing near when it is right to release, unveil, and unlock?
All pretty metaphors aside, I have been troubled by these thoughts until recently. I have written about wishing for things past and remembering my truest self, and wondering where such longings lead me. I have had an epiphany of sorts since then: if I live in the past, then I stagnate in the present and bring bitterness to the future. However, of those things in the past that I love the most, I should take action to ensure that they are also a part of my future or else they will be lost, given up. This is the paradox then, that in order to not lose what I hold dear, I must let it go. Let it go so that God can give it back in a new way, if He chooses.
Today in Sunday School, a guest teacher was introducing what will be a series on the Spiritual Gifts. He talked about how a person shouldn’t try to serve/minister equally well in all areas, because someone else has a strength in an area that you are weak, and vice versa. Afterward, when I had gotten to thinking about what my strongest gifts may be, I think God may have spoken to me in one of those ways that we commonly think of as sudden insight, or “it dawned on me.”
I may be serving others in a role where some of my weaknesses are strengthened, and my strengths made more mature; however, these and all my past experiences are tools to help me be more effective, more complete, and more ready for my truest calling, a calling where I can use my gifts/strengths to give back to humanity even better than I am now. There is a teacher out there who will take my place because that is his or her gift, and I do not need to grieve leaving behind something good for something of an even greater good. Perhaps these experiences are making me better able to discern what that true calling is, although I am still only seeing pieces of the puzzle at a time.
Like the teacher who helped her students become the Freedom Writers, I too want to help people find unexpected beauty, hope, voices from history speaking wisdom, the value of each person. I just won’t be going about it in the same way. I love the writing of Anne Frank, the music of Beethoven, the disciplined art of movement in gymnastics; perhaps my legacy will be discovered somewhere between them all.
I guess this blog may be my own diary of life as it unfolds, a daily discovering of puzzle pieces as they are fitted together.