“When we talk about settling the world’s problems, we’re barking up the wrong tree. The world is perfect. It’s a mess. It has always been a mess. We are not going to change it. Our job is to straighten out our own lives.” Joseph Campbell
My friend Linda posted this in my comment from a past posting. Oh goodness, I guess this is how people feel about the Bible. It’s the right words at the right time. I’ve had few times in my life when I felt the fog has cleared and I could see clearly. I’ve been stewing or evolving as you will in the last few days. I have always been a realist. But within my realism contained this idea that I could change a little bit about everyone one I have come in contact. To some extent this is true, but not the way that I was seeing it.
I am so worried about everyone else’s needs and worries that I never left myself time to worry about mine. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pretty egotistical guy. No one loves me more than me. But I think there within lies my problem. I threw the walls up and people could only see within the crack within the walls. I have a hard time talking about myself. I mean reallytalking about myself. I will go on rants about my day and my encounters from the day. But I’ve got my friends and family trained not to dig deeper. I never really get into philosophy debates and value discussions. I’m just the funny, most of the time inappropriate comedy side kick.
I have been asked to speak at one of my schools next month. This school in particular is kind of near and dear to me. This high school I should have attended if I went to my neighborhood school. This school also was the scene of a very tragic shooting on May 1, 1992. A date, that forever in my life I will remember. Four students and a teacher died on that day. The story is online at http://www.columbine-angels.com/lindhurst_story.htm.
My point of this digression is that school has experienced pain for decades. Just when the healing was almost complete, they lost their principal to a car accident. Three years later, they have healed and are resurfacing as a place to be educated.
I grew up for the most part of life about a half-mile from the school. I didn’t attend a day at the school, but I still feel connected to it and the students that go there now. I want to share with them that people from this area (a mostly Hmong, Hispanic, and habitually poor white) can make themselves successful. I have had to work hard to get everything that I have today. I was blessed with some gifts given to me naturally. Some others, I have honed to be assets as well. My parents just expected me to do well, but rarely provided structure or support for it. My grandparents were bigger influences in my life because they are the ones that really pushed me to excel. The little “bonuses” that g-pa usually gave me for my report card didn’t hurt either. However, I just knew that were so proud of me and it showed. I worked hard thanks to their encouragement. I don’t blame my parents at all either. Both were very young when they had me and it was a struggle to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. My mom has her high school diploma, but my dad doesn’t even have that. I remember when I was in the 6th grade, it was really bad. My dad wasn’t working much because of the last housing down turn. I remember for the first time seeing what a food stamp was. I also remember eating elk because it was in the freezer. I didn’t realize how much stress it was putting on my parents to the point of almost getting a divorce. But from stories I’ve heard, my dad’s life as a kid was much harder than I could imagine–but have a bothered to ask? How selfish of me.
Things were better as I got older and I was in high school. Maybe because I started working when I was a sophomore and because some what financially independent of my parents. By by junior year, I was completely independent of them. I very rarely asked them for money for anything really that I can remember.
I did want a car. I started to work for a convenience store down the street from my house. It was a pretty good job for high school. They paid well and it was close to my house. At the time, I was driving the 94 Aerostar van that had a huge dent in the driver side door and that had been stolen once. But for work, I just walked back and forth each night. Well one night as I was walking home around 10 at night, I got mugged. They didn’t hurt me and didn’t get any money because I didn’t have any. Surprisingly I wasn’t too scared. I just let them pat me down and they took off. I think my grandparents got scared and the next week, they had bought me a car. Of course, I would pay them back. A few years after my grandpa passed away, my g-ma gifted the car to me because she thought that’s what grandpa wanted.
I just have so many thought swirling in my head tonight. I don’t think that talking to these kids will change the world in a few weeks. But what I think it will do is give them another example of someone who made something for themselves. But also remembering it’s not the village the defines you, but it’s you that defines the village.