Sometimes I really like being Facebook friends with my sister Tricia and her college friends. It’s encouraging to see youthful optimism.
It makes me ask myself, where the hell did mine go?
I feel like I’m too young to have already lost youthful optimism. I’m not even 30. Yet, I’ve lost the feeling that I can affect change. That my voice can be heard. That I can be a do-gooder. Especially in the current landscape of extreme bi-partisanism and unsettling world events. Nothing seems to get done except arguing over who’s right or wrong.
But I remember that something can be done in small strides. Joe recently suggested that we volunteer for a Bin Donated event to sort books for Open Books, one of my favorite organizations in the city. A great idea.
So, a group of us sorted through 6,200 books, dividing them between fiction and nonfiction.
Then, we boxed them up to be inventoried. Along the way, we skipped past Provence, put together A Million Little Pieces, survived the Lipstick Jungle, Ate. Prayed. Loved, and caught glimpse of sordid romances.
And the profits from these used books, when sold, will support literacy and creative writing programs.
I have to remind myself sometimes that we all can’t all sell our possessions and save the whales (or can’t we?). Some of us aren’t as bright eyed as we used to be. We may have become purveyors of consumerism (this girl), even if it’s not exactly what we had in mind as college kids. Maybe we should stop and remind ourselves that small gestures affect change in their own way. Like doing a favor for a friend to make his or her day better. Or speaking up for something we believe in. Or even giving an hour of time to improve the world in a very small way.
Just in case you want to reconnect with your youthful optimism.