Eyes Closed

There are days when I get depressed.

I’ve never been a big social activist. To be fully honest, I spent the first eighteen years of my life oblivious to much around me. Years of childhood hazing combined with an ultimate escape land provided by the millions of books made sure that I spent my days unaware of my surroundings. I don’t mean to imply that I didn’t care. As a kid, I tutored other, less fortunate, kids in math, and later on, English. But, even as a teenager, I never got involved in the political or social conversations that many people around me debated over. Just like I didn’t feel at ease with the lipstick-brand-name-jeans-and-ski-in-Switzerland crowd, I didn’t find a home with the people who wanted to save the world. Or at least talk about saving the world.

Back then I knew too little to be disappointed.

During college, I started getting a little more involved with those around me. For the first time in my life, I felt like my surroundings invigorated me. I wanted to suck it all up. After drenching myself in it, I wanted to get others hooked on as well. Thus, I became an Orientation Counselor. I joined the Student Dormitory Counsel and organized part of the on-campus carnival entertainment. I signed up to be a Pre-college counselor. And later, a Resident Assistant. As part of those jobs, I got more involved in community service. I did Habitat for Humanity a few times. I went to a food bank. I became a sexual assault counselor. I moved up to organize school-wide programs like sex week, where we tried to address important issues and raise sexual awareness. I worked for the school newspaper. I taught computer classes. I served on the residence life judicial board. While I wasn’t very involved in the city or outside community, I was mad about my school. I knew a lot about it and worked hard to make parts of it better.

At that point I was too intoxicated with the possibilities to get distraught.

Upon graduation, I moved to New York City. I signed on with an investment bank and got to work. In my first year, I became involved with two volunteer programs: Everybody Wins, whose goal was to instill the love of reading in elementary school children and Young Women’s Leadership Club, whose goal was to teach high school girls the skills necessary to get accepted to college or to find a job. The work took about six to eight hours a month away from my jam-packed schedule. I became a member of the New York Public Library so I could checkout children’s books that my third grader and I read during our lunch hours. My first year, I convinced a bunch of my friends to volunteer for New York Cares Day. By then I had also joined Jake in returning back to City Year for the Serve-a-thon in Boston, each year. My firm started a community service program where they gave each employee a day off, paid, to do community service. I went back to Habitat. I did Junior Achievement. I volunteered at pet shelter dog shows. I still didn’t think I was affecting my environment as much as I could have, but I felt good about giving some of the little time that I had.

I think the sorrow might have started when I saw how my third grader couldn’t read.

A year and a half ago, I decided I wanted to reduce my hours considerably so I could spend some time volunteering at the New York Society for the Deaf. I’d been taking classes at NYSD and wanted an excuse to improve my sign language. I asked around and found out that almost all the opportunities were during the day, so after a lot of searching, I changed my work to a 3-days-a-week arrangement and started spending one of my other days at NYSD. I didn’t care about what I did, I just wanted to be of help. A few months after that, I started spending part of my other day at Housing Works used bookstore, where I help run the register and do other necessary jobs. I’d say I’m still not involved with my environment as much as I want to be. My life is still pretty much the same, except for the wonderful people who’ve added color and insight into it. The people I’ve met in my multiple volunteer opportunities.

They’re what make me worry.

A few months ago, I decided the few days weren’t enough. I wanted to make more of an impact. I wanted to educate myself. I wanted to learn about what makes parts of our society fail. I wanted to make it a better place. I talked to a lot of people. Many told me I was naive. A whole bunch told me that I could do that with my money. Others told me it was a fruitless endeavor. A few encouraged me to give it a try. I looked around a lot and finally settled on Teach For America. I was inspired by what they stood for and figured I’d be proud to be a member of an organization with its goals. I applied. I got accepted. If all goes well, I will be an elementary school teacher by this September.

Now, I’m reading a lot about education and the plethora of the issues faced by educators today. I’m reading about racial bias and gender bias. I’m reading about poverty and parts of United States that would, should, make some people ashamed to call themselves American. I’m seeing that ignorance is bliss for many people. I’m finding out that a lot of people whine about how bad things are but don’t do much about it. I’m realizing that there’s a lot of work to be done. I’m horrified by the way many children are treated.

And I get depressed.

I see why people tell me I can’t change the world. I know many have tried and failed. I know that it feels like an insurmountable undertaking. I get annoyed at the disorganization of some non-profits until I try to remind myself that most of these people are working practically for free in a job that’s often under-appreciated and definitely under-employed. Tons of people have told me that it’s not my job to fix the world.

But it is.

I live in this society. I reap the benefits of many people’s hard work. I take for granted that someone grows the food I eat, that someone collects the garbage I accumulate, someone drives the subway I ride to work. I make money and live in a well-insulated house with doormen and elevators. I’m surrounded by people who make enough money to afford big houses and expensive vacations. It’s easy to lose perspective in my environment. And that’s exactly what many people do. Yet, if any part of the society decided not to execute its function, my world could crumble. It’s my job to make sure that hardworking people get rewarded. It’s my job to make sure that we can offer excellent education to everyone so our society as a whole can improve.

Most importantly, I plan to bring children into this society. It’s my job to make sure that my kids can grow up in the best society I can provide. I don’t want my children to have to worry about racial or gender discrimination. I want high quality education not to be an option that only the rich can exercise but a necessity and a guarantee to all children. I want my kids to be proud to be a part of their society. I want them to grow up secure of their abilities and opportunities. And I don’t want all that to be tied to my income.

It’s just as much my job to make this world a better place as it is yours. The more I read, the more I see, the more I hear, the more depressed I get. The sadder I get, the angrier I get. The angrier I get, the more determined I get.

My eyes might have been closed before, but they’re wide open now. And it’s never too late.

Previously? Dumb For Life.