There are some days that, with the sun shining on you in all of its warm, Spring-Break goodness and the Friday freedom settling in, make one dream. The possibilities seem endless. The future seems hopeful. I get restless. I reflect, dream, wish, think, and feel both optimistic and dissatisfied. These days make me wonder whether I am doing what I should be doing. They make me wonder why I watch so many movies and grade so many papers. They make me think about health, spirituality, literacy, creativity, beauty, truth, and justice. They make me want to DO SOMETHING. They make me think that anything is possible. This is one of those days….which leads me to my next point….

Tonight Justin and I saw “My Name is Rachel Corrie,” a play written about the young American woman who lived in Palestine for a few months to help stop the violence there. Although there is much more to this story than the play had time (and intentions) to get to, I was moved by this young lady’s intelligence, joie de vivre, passion, and conviction as portrayed by this play. The play was based off of her letters, e-mails, and journals, so it truly captured her voice, which moved me to want to act.

How does one take action in such a messed-up world? What passion can I pursue? What can I devote my life to that will truly make a difference in the lives of others? I feel like there is a secret menu somewhere with a list of world issues that well-off Americans can peruse, select the issue-of-the day, and comfortably try to make a change with the change left over from their cupholders. What can I really do? I feel like we take the easy way out when we say, “Oh, you ARE making a difference. Think about how many lives you impact each day…yadda yadda yadda.” I don’t feel like we can afford to do that. I want to concentrate my efforts–make them potent, passionate, and intense. I want to see the effects of my actions. Perhaps it is water that is provided for a village. Perhaps the malnourished bodies of infants become plump and healthy again. Perhaps I save a species, eradicate an illness in a village, rebuild a demolished city, help fight global warming, stop child soldier recruitment, or preserve a section of the rainforest. Am I naive to think I could make this much of a difference? What kind of a world would we live in if each one of us had a “pet” issue that we fought for throughout our lives? Most Americans can afford to do this, both time-wise and wealth-wise, but we don’t, and why not? Are we too afraid of what will happen if other countries don’t need aid anymore? Will helping other people threaten our superpower status? Do we just forget what our neighbors in other countries are going through? Do we find it too troubling to think about?

I am feeling incredibly un-incredible right now because I am thinking about how different–how much more passionate and creative–I could be. I am both energized and disheartened by this thought.