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A difference in perspective
Apr. 28th, 2005 07:39 amWhile waiting at the bus stop at the end of my street this morning, I noticed a lady coming towards me, going through the blue boxes. She was not young, but not really old, and she walked with the help of a bundle buggy, limping. She was taking each pop can out, taking the tab off it, putting the tab in her pocket, and then going on to the next can or the next box.
Having missed a bus, I had several minutes' wait to watch her and wait for her approach. I wondered if she was collecting tabs for herself or someone else; if it was an organized campaign or just an attempt to help a friend; if she would accept help. The last thought galvanized me. When she came close enough, I told her I was a teacher at a nearby elementary school, and asked if my class could help her collect pop tabs.
She told me she was collecting them for a lady at her church, and thanks very much, but that wasn't really necessary. She was just collecting what she saw on her morning walk. Then she went on her way, stopping at another blue box as my bus arrived.
It occurred to me that the lady she was collecting for did not think as small as this woman did. She had thought, after all, to mobilize her church community to help. Neither of them, though, appeared to be thinking big enough.
Collecting pop tabs in a school is easy. All kinds of drinks come in cans, and all the cans get recycled anyway. A jar with a slit in the top for each class, a little competition to see which class can fill the jar fastest, and in a matter of weeks, I could have that wheelchair purchased (at least, the pop tab part of it.) When I learn about something like this, I start thinking of ways to get my community involved in it. Now, often I don't do anything about those thoughts; if I took up every good cause that came along, I'd have no life left of my own. But this one I could have done, and may still do.
This lady used to be a janitor at a local high school. It seemed from what she said that she's currently on a long-term disability pension, which meshes with her walking problems. Her way of helping her friend was to collect pop tabs from other people's blue boxes. Mine would have been totally different.
It's about perspective, really. Hers is small, limited to her church, her home and maybe a community group or two, probably church-based. She sees herself as powerless to make big changes beyond her little world. Mine is much larger. I see myself as connected, not just to my school and my church, but to my city, my province, my country, and people around the world. I see myself as being in a position to make people's lives better through my actions.
I think I might call the March of Dimes and set up that contest anyway.
Having missed a bus, I had several minutes' wait to watch her and wait for her approach. I wondered if she was collecting tabs for herself or someone else; if it was an organized campaign or just an attempt to help a friend; if she would accept help. The last thought galvanized me. When she came close enough, I told her I was a teacher at a nearby elementary school, and asked if my class could help her collect pop tabs.
She told me she was collecting them for a lady at her church, and thanks very much, but that wasn't really necessary. She was just collecting what she saw on her morning walk. Then she went on her way, stopping at another blue box as my bus arrived.
It occurred to me that the lady she was collecting for did not think as small as this woman did. She had thought, after all, to mobilize her church community to help. Neither of them, though, appeared to be thinking big enough.
Collecting pop tabs in a school is easy. All kinds of drinks come in cans, and all the cans get recycled anyway. A jar with a slit in the top for each class, a little competition to see which class can fill the jar fastest, and in a matter of weeks, I could have that wheelchair purchased (at least, the pop tab part of it.) When I learn about something like this, I start thinking of ways to get my community involved in it. Now, often I don't do anything about those thoughts; if I took up every good cause that came along, I'd have no life left of my own. But this one I could have done, and may still do.
This lady used to be a janitor at a local high school. It seemed from what she said that she's currently on a long-term disability pension, which meshes with her walking problems. Her way of helping her friend was to collect pop tabs from other people's blue boxes. Mine would have been totally different.
It's about perspective, really. Hers is small, limited to her church, her home and maybe a community group or two, probably church-based. She sees herself as powerless to make big changes beyond her little world. Mine is much larger. I see myself as connected, not just to my school and my church, but to my city, my province, my country, and people around the world. I see myself as being in a position to make people's lives better through my actions.
I think I might call the March of Dimes and set up that contest anyway.