''It seems to me incumbent upon this and other schools' graduates to recognize their responsibility to the public interest...unless the graduates of this college...are willing to put back into our society those talents, the broad sympathy, the understanding, the compassion...then obviously the presuppositions upon which our democracy are based are bound to be fallible.''
John F. Kennedy, at the ground breaking for the Amherst College Frost Library, October 26, 1963
The scent of chamomile wafted from her steaming mug. Beside her, a box of tissue begged to be replenished. I focused on these minute details, perhaps in an effort to put distance between myself and the stranger's shrill tone that carried her cries of betrayal, anger, and disappointment.
The neurons in my brain fired rapidly. What could I possibly do to console her? What could there be to say that wouldn't be hackneyed words of comfort? I could remind her that, in due time, the hurt she felt now would be nothing more than speck in her memory. But, no. That could be annoying to hear. I wouldn't want to marginalize her feelings. A confusing amalgam of sympathy and frustration settled in my chest. I grappled for the right words to say while the stranger grappled with her feelings.
A familiar feeling crept over me as I realized I had been intellectualizing, rationalizing again. Having the right words or the best advice often does little for those needing moral support. When I looked around me, I saw my school's Wellness staff of two, so willing to provide minutiae of advice, but equally willing to facilitate students' gradual understanding of their feelings. Max and Jen are hip twenty-year-olds, understandably popular in our high school community. But what sets them apart in my mind, what makes them special to me, is their unending patience and kindness. They view the world through lens colored by their academic backgrounds- Jen majored in Psychology, Max in Sociology. When I consider my role models, I realize that kindness is the meter stick by which the strength of humanity is measured.
As I continue on the path ahead of me, my experiences will continue to push me to the highest level of intellectual growth. Yet Heraclitus once said, "Much learning does not teach understanding." I would add that understanding is best when complemented by a course of action guided by kind intentions. Understanding and caring with a conscience will do nothing short of strengthening the bonds that tie all of us together.
As I watched the girl opposite from me dissolve into tears, I understood: Kindness doesn't necessarily come in the form of well-intentioned advice. Sometimes, the kindest thing to do is to sit quietly, and let it be known that someone cares. For the moment, I could support her simply listening to understand. And I did.
John F. Kennedy, at the ground breaking for the Amherst College Frost Library, October 26, 1963
The scent of chamomile wafted from her steaming mug. Beside her, a box of tissue begged to be replenished. I focused on these minute details, perhaps in an effort to put distance between myself and the stranger's shrill tone that carried her cries of betrayal, anger, and disappointment.
The neurons in my brain fired rapidly. What could I possibly do to console her? What could there be to say that wouldn't be hackneyed words of comfort? I could remind her that, in due time, the hurt she felt now would be nothing more than speck in her memory. But, no. That could be annoying to hear. I wouldn't want to marginalize her feelings. A confusing amalgam of sympathy and frustration settled in my chest. I grappled for the right words to say while the stranger grappled with her feelings.
A familiar feeling crept over me as I realized I had been intellectualizing, rationalizing again. Having the right words or the best advice often does little for those needing moral support. When I looked around me, I saw my school's Wellness staff of two, so willing to provide minutiae of advice, but equally willing to facilitate students' gradual understanding of their feelings. Max and Jen are hip twenty-year-olds, understandably popular in our high school community. But what sets them apart in my mind, what makes them special to me, is their unending patience and kindness. They view the world through lens colored by their academic backgrounds- Jen majored in Psychology, Max in Sociology. When I consider my role models, I realize that kindness is the meter stick by which the strength of humanity is measured.
As I continue on the path ahead of me, my experiences will continue to push me to the highest level of intellectual growth. Yet Heraclitus once said, "Much learning does not teach understanding." I would add that understanding is best when complemented by a course of action guided by kind intentions. Understanding and caring with a conscience will do nothing short of strengthening the bonds that tie all of us together.
As I watched the girl opposite from me dissolve into tears, I understood: Kindness doesn't necessarily come in the form of well-intentioned advice. Sometimes, the kindest thing to do is to sit quietly, and let it be known that someone cares. For the moment, I could support her simply listening to understand. And I did.
