Committing to Change - Página 2

As I look forward to my eighth season at camp this year, I am working on methods to bring its power into the world. Over the past four years, I’ve organized musicians to hold regular fundraisers for charitable causes. We call ourselves Future Builders. I consider Future Builders to be a sort of moral CPR. We’re not helping people directly; instead we do what we can to provide financial support to people who are. It’s not enough, though.

I need to go to college.

Some people go to college because that’s what they’re expected to do. It’s what their parents told them to do, it’s what their teachers told them to do, it’s what their society told them to do. I’m not one of those people. For me, the purpose of college is to obtain the skills I need to do the things I want to do with my life. In my high school career, I’ve done what I know how to do well: play music and organize bands. I’ve sat across the table from great men and women who have dedicated their lives to the causes they care about. In reality though, there was a lot more standing between us than a meeting table. Higher education is what allows the director of Sustainable Harvest International to manage a team that fights slash-and-burn agriculture and helps farm families live sustainably. Higher education is what lets the team at the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights promote peace and education in Oakland, California. Higher education is what stands between my dreams and me.

In school, while climbing the mountain of obstacles to overcome my own flaws, I’ve begun to gain an energy I can bring to others.

Last year, after school, I worked with an organization called YES! Reading. Their mission is to help economically disadvantaged young kids learn to read. As someone whose parents broke their bank spending thousands of dollars to help me learn to read, I realized that there must be other young people out there whose parents have even less money, and they deserve the same help I got.

The girl I tutored was named Jovelia. Her parents immigrated to the United States and don’t speak English. I don’t know if she has a learning disability, but I do know that she doesn’t have any books at home, hardly any money, and no relatives who can sit next to her on the couch and help her through her homework. Yet, she has a wonder in her eyes and a smile that’s infectious.

One day, Jovelia was missing from tutoring. The next week she came back and told me a story. Her cousins had been shot at, outside her home in Oakland. They weren’t hit and were fine, but hearing this made me realize once more that there was a completely different America just five miles from my home. I am determined to get Jovelia a scholarship to Camp Winnarainbow for this summer.

Having, but more importantly, overcoming learning disabilities has made me a better person. It has taught me to take a bad situation and turn it into a good one; to turn lemons into lemonade.