Being Better Off Doesn’t Mean We Shouldn’t Want To Improve
Hey Dad,
When you were a kid you had to move from all the safeties of the United States to Iran, only to have a war commence the next year. In school they taught you complete bullshit, they stuffed misinterpreted Quran down your throat, and nothing made sense. Food items were either rationed are scarce, and so life was hard for a kid of only 12.
And in Iran, nothing makes sense. You’ve got all the wrong people getting the good things and all the right people getting the bad things. Whether you get hired or not is based purely on your connections, and not at all on the skills you possess.
And I have no doubt that your problems were worse than mine.
There are kids my age who have to work in sweat shops in Thailand. Kids who should be playing, but who are compeled to slave away so that they can bring food home for their family. Kids who are uneducated.
And I have no doubt that their problems are worse than mine.
But I’ve got my own problems.
Problems like losing all my energy and most of my time to the educational institutions that prioritize memorization over rationalization. Places that teach you everything it is to become a successful academic and barely anything else.
Organizations that turn my friends into highly-adept question-answerers, but not problem solvers. Not team players. Not human beings. Schools that drain my peers of every ounce of energy that they possess, so that when they arrive home, they have no energy or willpower to learn or to socialize.
A place that’s trying its best to mold me into that which I naturally resist. A constant struggle where no clear side seems victorious, but that I am losing my ground. Some friends are withering away under the load of work, stuck in the monotonous, perpetual cycle of better grades and extra-curriculars. Others retreat to their quarters and get stuck with playing video games or watching TV, wanting but not willing to accomplish more in their lives. And if they’re not absorbed into their media, they’re getting average marks in school, have average social lives, average this, and average that.
You tell me that it’s not right for a 16 year-old kid to go into his room, shut the door, and spend 3 hours inside. You’re right, it’s not. But that’s the situation I’ve been given now. If I were to deviate I would surely lose my sanity. And so would the rest of my peers.
I’m sad because the people whom I want to spend time with are busy doing all these things. I’m tired because at least 10 hours a week could be better spent. I’m hurt because my friend has given up on love because she says it takes up too much energy. I’m angry that all this work is making my friends and I lose sleep, and that sleeping 8 hours a night is surprising to my principal — as if 6 or 7 hours is normal and healthy for kids my age. I’m absolutely livid because not only is this killing me, but it’s killing my friends.
And I have no doubt that others’ problems are worse than mine. And if I had a choice, I would rather live my life with these problems than that child in Africa.
But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try to fix my problems. That I shouldn’t strive to make a difference. That in the process I should not break down because of having pushed myself too hard. And I am but a human.
Yet I have no doubt that their problems are worse than mine.
