On Diversity
I grew up in Dublin, Ohio, a suburb northwest of Columbus. My school district offers me numerous opportunities that are not offered to students everywhere. In high school, I had the opportunity to take AP Chemistry—a college-level course—as a freshman. I got to take courses in the German language all four years of high school—I even visited Germany in the summer of 2016 to study with a host family. By my junior year’s end, I had taken a total of eight AP exams, and my senior year of high school has so far been spent at The Ohio State University under Ohio’s “College Credit Plus” dual-enrollment program. While these experiences have undoubtedly been illuminating, at the same time, they have isolated me from certain critical perspectives on our daily lives.
I had my world turned on its head in the summer of 2015. In school, I had learned a little bit on the importance of community service, and I thought it would be healthy to leave Dublin and experience a different environment. With the support of my parents, I traveled to the heart of Chicago to attend a service-learning camp. The most sobering night came on the second week. All fifty of us in the camp filed into a sizable lecture hall. We watched respectfully as a family of four walked in and stood before us. “Students,” said our academic coordinator, “please welcome our guests. They are here to share their story.” One of the four stepped forward. She was young, perhaps fifteen years old, African American, and wore an inconspicuous black t-shirt. And she had been homeless.
There are two views on poverty. One characterizes it as an individual issue: those who live in poverty brought that situation upon themselves as a result of poor decision-making. The other characterizes it as a structural issue: those who live in poverty do so because of problems inherent in society. It is extremely difficult to argue that this fifteen-year-old girl—born directly into a situation where she had to worry about whether there would be food to eat, whether there would be a bed to sleep in, whether there would be a roof to play under, while still trying to study for school and do homework—brought her situation upon herself. How could she compete with me—a guy from Dublin, Ohio, who is already taking college courses before he has even graduated high school?
There are seven billion human beings on the planet. Seven billion hearts, each beating with their own story, their own background, their own friends, their own life. We cannot even begin to understand the world until we understand ourselves—the people that surround us, both in our local community and in the global community of all humans. That is, after all, the one thing we all share, despite all of our differences. We all breathe, we all cry, we all laugh, we all die. We are all human. We’re all in this together. Our differences are what make us individuals, and when we respect each other, we can arrive at solutions that keep everyone in mind. So let’s work together.
I had my world turned on its head in the summer of 2015. In school, I had learned a little bit on the importance of community service, and I thought it would be healthy to leave Dublin and experience a different environment. With the support of my parents, I traveled to the heart of Chicago to attend a service-learning camp. The most sobering night came on the second week. All fifty of us in the camp filed into a sizable lecture hall. We watched respectfully as a family of four walked in and stood before us. “Students,” said our academic coordinator, “please welcome our guests. They are here to share their story.” One of the four stepped forward. She was young, perhaps fifteen years old, African American, and wore an inconspicuous black t-shirt. And she had been homeless.
There are two views on poverty. One characterizes it as an individual issue: those who live in poverty brought that situation upon themselves as a result of poor decision-making. The other characterizes it as a structural issue: those who live in poverty do so because of problems inherent in society. It is extremely difficult to argue that this fifteen-year-old girl—born directly into a situation where she had to worry about whether there would be food to eat, whether there would be a bed to sleep in, whether there would be a roof to play under, while still trying to study for school and do homework—brought her situation upon herself. How could she compete with me—a guy from Dublin, Ohio, who is already taking college courses before he has even graduated high school?
There are seven billion human beings on the planet. Seven billion hearts, each beating with their own story, their own background, their own friends, their own life. We cannot even begin to understand the world until we understand ourselves—the people that surround us, both in our local community and in the global community of all humans. That is, after all, the one thing we all share, despite all of our differences. We all breathe, we all cry, we all laugh, we all die. We are all human. We’re all in this together. Our differences are what make us individuals, and when we respect each other, we can arrive at solutions that keep everyone in mind. So let’s work together.