Dreaming Big

Recently I cleaned out some of the stuff in my bedroom at my parents' house. I realized that my aspirations of becoming an artist/illustrator were misguided when I rediscovered my childhood sketchbook. Nearly every picture I drew made my subject look like a freak. I pitched it--no use in giving the younger generation nightmares. I reminisced about high school, realizing there were some good times, as I found pictures of friends, notes, and papers. I even found some writing from middle school. I may have been a terrible artist, but I was a darn good speller back in the day. I unearthed my journals as well, and I flipped through the one prior to my junior year of high school: mission trip to Estonia. That experience was certainly one of the best experiences of my life, and certainly pivotal in a number of ways (future post material, I'm sure).

And then I came across my scholarship folder. The manila folder had twenty or so scholarships listed on the cover, each one neatly printed out with a single line drawn through it to show I had turned it in and a check mark to show I had double checked everything prior to sending.

Oddly enough, this folder is enough to remind me of another key aha! moment in my current journey towards Guatemala. One scholarship I applied for was the Sam Walton scholarship, awarded through Walmart and Sam's Club. Focused on community service and a lifetime of service, I applied for it, given my pursuit of education and desire to help others. I soon learned that I qualified for the interview process.

The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally, the buzz of the electrical current providing a steady hum for background noise. My interviewers wore jeans and Polos and were seated at a folding table. The rickety metal chair was my best invitation to a warm welcome. Needless to say, the dingy warehouse room didn't quite meet my expectations for an interview, even if it was at Walmart.

In spite of the environment, the interview started strongly. I smiled, I laughed at the right times, I tried to convey my passion for my dreams. And surprisingly, that's when the rubber met the road.

"So what do you see yourself doing with your life?" Interviewer 1 asked.

I launched into my desire to teach, my desire to travel, my desire to learn another language fluently, and how I could envision all of those interests coming together in an overseas teaching position.

Interviewer 2 leaned forward. "What's wrong with teaching here in America?" she queried.

I fidgeted in my seat. What was wrong with it? Nothing at all. I just loved to be overseas and working with international people...

"But there are plenty of people here that you could help. Why do you have to go overseas to help them?" Interviewer 1 interrupted. Faces were not smiling now.

I was at a loss for words. Suddenly, I knew the interview had turned. I would not be getting the scholarship. They didn't understand. And I was ashamed of my dream.

I was embarrassed the next few times I entered that Walmart, seeing myself as a failure. Caught in my ego-centric adolescent world, I avoided making eye contact with the employees, sure they somehow knew I had lost.

Now, I realize the value of that experience. People may not understand why I desire to go overseas. But I don't have to convince them that I am doing right, worry about this dream being misguided (like my goal of being an illustrator was). I know that this is where I am called to go, at least for a time. And that is good enough for me.