Following your wife’s advice, you’re taking a small break from your little business venture. You are joining your friend Brad to a charity lunch. Brad might fool people with his laid-back demeanour, but despite appearances, he’s actually a very dedicated volunteer. Never judge a book by its cover.
“I just make the time for the stuff that matters. If it’s really something that I want to do, I find the time.” So matter-of-fact.
Today’s event is organized by a charity that supports people with hearing impairments, particularly for those families in which the parents are both deaf while the children aren’t. Brad told you that that can often be a concern: sometimes, the kids aren’t willing to speak, or don’t have an encouraging environment in which to learn how to do so.
Before you settle into your assigned table, the charity chairperson gives an opening speech.
You never really thought about what it must be like to have a hearing impairment. Obviously, deafness is a serious disability, although signing might mitigate some of the communication issues. But you had no idea about the mountain of other problems that go hand-in-hand with even the slightest impairment. Today, you’re quickly face to face with your naiveté as you listen to the speech.
For example, signing isn’t nearly as comprehensive as you thought. It has a lot of limitations: it has to be supplemented by facial expression, lip reading, knowing the other person’s tendency of using hand signs and most of all, a lot of guesswork.
Also, despite everything else being “normal” for deaf people, their chances of advancing in the traditional school system is very slim. Even having hearing aids (which have their own drawbacks), most deaf students often miss a big chunk of what the teachers have to say. As a result, deaf students usually fall behind classroom averages in regular schools. Yes, there are the special education schools for deaf students, but they can be limited in resources and, more importantly, it isolates the deaf students from the mainstream. Because of all this, it’s incredibly difficult for deaf people to find good jobs once they leave education.
After the speech, all the volunteers go to assigned tables to spend time with the families. The event is really to promote understanding of deafness and encourage bonding with the “mainstream” society. Whatever that’s supposed to mean, you think to yourself.
As you walk to your table, it starts to hit you. You have this really depressed feeling. You really can’t begin to comprehend what it would be like to have a hearing impairment now that it becomes such ‘reality’ to you. Now you really can’t imagine what would happen if your son was deaf—as you’ve learned, sometimes deafness isn’t always from birth but down to incidents during a young toddlers’ childhood.
And suddenly, balking at the thought of being here to cheer others up in the face of something so serious, all you can do is to quietly sit down, in your assigned seat. You can’t even begin to speak.
Knowing how to sign, Brad’s the translator on the table. It’s a bit awkward at the beginning. No one really knows how to start a “conversation”. Two groups of people with completely different languages. Being an experienced volunteer, he explains to both sides that the purpose is to promote understanding—so just fire away with any questions!
You try hard. But you keep coming up empty.
“Why are you all here today?” comes a child’s voice. A young boy sitting opposite you.
An awkward silence. You really don’t know. To “give back” to society? To offer some help?
After hearing all of the real challenges these families face, you don’t know if there is anything you can do to actually make a real difference. It’s one thing to arrange a get-together and a bit of a chat. But at the end, everyone goes home. You go home to your ‘normal’ life, and they go home to theirs.
You feel you really have nothing to offer, and it’s turned out that it’s you who’s the ‘taker’ here.
“Are you OK?” Brad asks after the event is finished.
“I feel so powerless. I can do nothing. I’m also just sitting there feeling a bit guilty. It’s almost as if I feel more fortunate, at their expense. This is horrible.”
“You know what? Today, there is one more person who comes to appreciate, or at least start to understand, the real challenges of these families. That can only be a positive thing. We just need more people willing to do that.”
“So what do you really get out of doing all this volunteering? This stuff is pretty heavy!”
“When I first started,” Brad says, “I just wanted to help—probably just like any other volunteer. We all start with that simple, obvious intention. Of course, to keep doing it, I almost have to feel like I’m on a mission, some sort of divine calling. And that is to solve others’ problems and to change the world in a positive way, no matter how small the help or the changes are.
“Yet, sometimes I feel I get blind sighted by my own ‘great’ mission. Yes, it gives me the drive to keep going. But it also makes me think about everything from that new perspective. Everything seems to fall under my own perspective. And I soon realize: others’ lives don’t revolve around me, no matter how “big” a mission I believe I have to help them. And that’s probably also the time when I start to think more from their perspectives. What does all these volunteer work really mean to them? Can you really be all self-less, the whole Buddha bit?” Brad smiles.
“But seriously, when I see people become happier, I am just honoured to be one of the witnesses present. That’s really all I want. To be one of the audience.”
“It’s an unfair world.”
“Well, we all have a limited time on this earth. That’s probably the only fair thing about it. Yes. Some are more fortunate than others. Some are less fortunate, no matter what perspective you use. Yet on top of that, everyone still has a daily life to deal with or enjoy. No matter how fortunate or unfortunate you are, you will have your highs and lows. It’s never that absolute.
“And it’s all relative. You may feel some of the families are unfortunate, and of course they are, but there has to be people somewhere who think you are pretty unfortunate too.”
“Why am I unfortunate?” Brad is not supposed to know you got fired.
“Well, it can be anything. Maybe they think you’re not rich enough to retire right now. Or that you have to worry about your financial situations all the time.”
“Come on, that can hardly be called unfortunate, right? And how can I even compare my financial situation with something as serious as a physical disability?”
“That’s really the point,” Brad counters. “What I just described is you from a different perspective. That’s just what someone else may think. But what matters to you is how you think.
“And that’s something I want to help families with, or people in need, to help them see things in a more positive light, and really disregard what others feel about them, especially the negative ones. They don’t need anyone’s pity. Maybe a bit of a leg-up here and there, but who doesn’t? There is never a guarantee for success but we all deserve an chance to succeed.”
***
Walking home, you see a mother with her daughter living off the street asking for small change. You see them all the time. Like everyone else, you’re used to ignoring them. You’re not really sure if the money goes to the little girl. There could be some organized crimes controlling these activities and that your little kindness may be abused. What’s more, the little change you give is never going to change this little girl’s life in any significant way anyway. Is it?
Today you act differently. You reach out and give the mother some change. No big deal. You realize is not about what you get in return—whether it’s that warm feeling of helping others, or whatever. It’s all about that remote chance that the little girl will get something out of that, maybe just something better to eat that evening. Or to one day have a chance to go to school. You may think it’s not possible. People around you might laugh at your idealism. But your giving is not about how you or, more importantly, how others feel, it’s about what those in need can potentially get, a future they can look forward to. No matter how small.
As you arrived home, that little boy’s question this morning still plays on your mind. Why were you there? Maybe you were there to learn something: that your challenges, and all these frustrations, you have been facing recently aren’t really anything at all. Not because you compare them to those less fortunate, but realizing their courage and positive energy make you ashamed of your inabilities. You haven’t stood up for yourself. You let those feelings control you and fell in love with being a victim of your own mind game.
Humbling. You feel closer to understanding why you need to give back to society. Not because you have money, time or passion. It’s simply because you see how small you really are, once you step outside your own universe.
Dream Small 