Thoughts on a Monday morning

Volunteering at an adult literacy program has changed me, in small and soft ways.

It has fine-tuned my sensitivity, humbled and weakened me, and made me even stronger for the breaking. I hear stories of recent immigrants struggling with the language barrier, hit even harder by the bad economic conditions, where speaking English no longer becomes a want, but a desperate need. I hear a touching story of a cleaning-lady who has come to care deeply for her employers, and who is motivated to learn English so that she can communicate with them more meaningfully, beyond the usual apathetic pleasantries. Another of a Jamaican man who came to the country with no friends or relatives, who met an English tutor through the program, which blossomed into a 20 year friendship -- she was his lifeline to this place, and his only friend.

Sitting there reading and comprehending everything with mindless facility and smooth ease, I feel suddenly humbled that I can even read a phone number or answer simple questions in English like What is your name? without any hesitation or further thought. I feel an abrupt coldness run from my chest all the way to my stomach, that I was somehow chosen and given a silver, golden, or even platinum spoon in my mouth from my first gulping breath, whereas others had come into this world gasping for empty air.

As I sat there, fully groomed and educated, my heart broke for the people who didn't have the same chances that I did, who would struggle so hard for certain "successes" in life that were to me merely things I already had, and I wanted more, more.... more..... For a second, I feel almost guilty and then, deeply responsible. To utilize myself in some way for some further good than my own personal enjoyment of this life, for to live thus would be to think that I somehow were deigned "superior", given everything but with no strings attached. Can I really be so arrogant, and so very callous?