I stood at the edge of a 700-foot drop, lifted my arms, and jumped – bungee jumped, that is.
Bungee jumping in South Africa.
I have always grown up with an inclination towards thrill and adventure. Whether that’s finding the cutest coffee shop to study at or jumping off the tallest bungee bridge in the world, I approach each day with a passion for adventure. I definitely consider myself to be easily excitable, but more accurately I strive to seek
joy despite the circumstances.
I grew up in the greater Seattle area and recognize that I have been privileged in many ways. I have been blessed with a loving family, close friends, a rigorous education, the experience of traveling, the ability to be physically active and with the faith that guides me each day. Still, every life has its hardships. Through my own experiences and through exposure to the experiences of those around me, I have discovered my passion for
life stories.
In the fall of 2015 I studied abroad in Cape Town, South Africa. I chose Cape Town as my destination because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone and explore a completely new place. What exactly this would look like, however, I had absolutely no idea. As you might imagine, living in a developing country had a much larger impact upon my personal growth than I could have ever imagined. Not only did I experience a difference in culture, but at the end of my time in South Africa the country experienced nationwide student protesting due to an increase in student fees. This announcement rightfully angered the local students since many of them cannot afford university education as is. Much of the protesting was rooted in the corruption and social unrest that lingers post-Apartheid. Though I was a foreigner and could not fully (or even nearly) come to understand the reality of living in post-Apartheid society, I did get a firsthand glimpse through my own experience and through discussion with locals. Not only was I compassionate for the wronged, but I too experienced being wronged – though indeed to a much lesser degree. Through this experience, I discovered a personal bittersweet relationship with being immensely
challenged.
I came back to the U.S. expecting that I would share stories about my adventures in Cape Town. Though everyone was keen to listen, I struggled to relay all that I had been exposed to. I found it difficult to transition back into the comfort of living in a place that was so familiar. A part of me missed the challenges that had forced me to
These are signs from the nationwide student protests I experienced while studying in South Africa.
gather my hidden strengths and to do what I had never realized I might be capable of doing. I had never considered myself to be unmindful before Cape Town, but molding back into the known of home left me feeling slightly less fulfilled. I realized the importance of mindfully practicing challenging myself. I also kept in mind the injustices that continued to take place in South Africa, while most of the U.S. (including myself) remained unaware of the goings-on there. I don’t wish to criticize Americans in this way, but more so it simply makes me realize the magnitude of how little I know about the world and its people. After South Africa the “life story” passion I mentioned loomed over me, so this fellowship immediately had me hooked.
A hard goodbye to my traveling adventures.
I feel a strong calling to combat the injustices of this world, but I honestly am not at all sure of what that looks like or where that might be. This is why I find the GSB fellowship to be so fitting. Through this opportunity I hope to both cater to the need for safe drinking water in Indonesia, and to continue opening my eyes to humanity’s numerous unmet needs. I hope to challenge myself and to discover even more of my hidden talents. I hope to further understand my passion for life stories and for combatting injustice, and I hope to apply this passion in a way that will truly instill change.
“There is a
heart-based dimension
to this journey” of social entrepreneurship.[1]
[1] As discussed in our fellowship class when reflecting upon chapter 1 of John Neafsey’s “A Sacred Voice is Calling.”