On my flight from Albuquerque to Chicago (en route to
Syracuse), I was flipping through the in-flight magazine (as is customary
during the pre-“approved electronics” period) and one article* in particular
grabbed my attention. It is an article by Arielle Castillo entitled “Staying
Strong.” The article chronicles the life of one man, Nick Scott, in his journey
to overcoming the obstacles associated with losing the use of his legs. But Mr.
Scott does more than overcome. He dominates.
Nick Scott lost the use of his legs when he was 18 due to a
horrific vehicular accident. After some time living in the “dark and twisty”
aftermath of his accident, Nick somehow found the courage and motivation to pull
himself out. He began weightlifting and eventually became involved in the sport
of wheelchair bodybuilding. Now 31, Mr. Scott has been involved (and performed
very well) in several sports, including IPC Wheelchair Dance. The article goes
in depth into how Nick was able to redefine his life and purpose, but one quote
really hit home for me.
“To leave a legacy, you’ve got to do stuff that’s unheard
of. You have to do the unthinkable and do the stuff you fear. That’s what this
is about – pushing beyond.”
Lately, I feel that I have been taking the famous quote “Do
one thing every day that scares you” to a literal extreme. I have taken many
risks over the past six years, to my person and my career. Not every one of
those risks has paid off in full, I’ll admit. But not once have I felt even an
ounce of regret. I often ask myself why I push so hard, why I ask so much of
myself, and why I can’t just be satisfied with achieving my mid-level goals.
There are several answers.
First, in order to truly learn about oneself and about the
world, one has to make mistakes. I didn’t understand this until I was almost
out of college. My greatest fear growing up was failure. Because of this fear,
I often shied away from opportunities and challenges. I desperately wanted more
out of my life (U.S. Olympic Equestrian Team, marine biologist on one of Jacque
Coustou’s famous vessels, Broadway actress, UNHCR Executive Director), but I
was afraid that, in pursuing these dreams, that I would fail. And failure was
not acceptable.
But as I made my way through my college career, tasting, for
the first time, the feeling of having to own up to one’s strengths and
weaknesses, I realized that failure (or, if you prefer, unsuccessful attempts),
were truly learning experiences. I have learned more (and my future children
will roll their eyes at this point when they receive this pep talk) from my
mistakes and failures than I have from my successes.** And, knowing this, it is
also true that, without risk-taking, without grabbing at opportunities at which
you may have only a 20% chance of succeeding, you will not learn and you will
not grow. Period.
Second, it is my personal belief that we are on this earth
to enjoy all that we can, to celebrate each other, and to help one another when
we see that there is a need. I used to think that human beings existed only as
vessels for service to others, but as I have matured, I have come to appreciate
that my personal happiness and satisfaction with my life is just as important
as my service to others. In order to thoroughly appreciate the blessings in my
life, in my experience as a member of the human race, therefore, I feel that it
is my prerogative to educate myself about everyone else who is also a part of
this human experience. And that type of learning can only happen when you reach
beyond the borders of your comfort zone. One doesn’t necessarily have to
physically place oneself in another culture or community. Rather, it is idea
that, whatever your preconceived notions, whatever your subconscious
prejudices, and whatever your creed, consider what may exist beyond those
boundaries. If you possess a conviction, consider the counterfactual. This is
not to say that you should not possess any strong convictions or attitudes
about the world; indeed, you should. But in order to truly understand your own
perspective, you must consider that of someone else.
I have been accused of waffling, of being “soft” or
idealistic when it comes to certain issues. For instance, my studies often
consider the combatant perspective of engaging in warfare, even when the
conflict includes episodes of torture, rape, child abduction, and massacre.
This is not to say that I side with combatants, or that I take pity on them.
This is quite far from the truth. I am a staunch pacifist and opponent of the
death penalty who believes that violence is never the last resort nor is it
ever the appropriate response to any form of aggression.*** This is not to say
that I have not had moments where I thought to reconsider this position. I am
human, after all. And it is not to say that I do not appreciate the efforts of
those who engage in combat.**** But the point is that, by considering the
position and worldview of those who engage in violent conflict, I can better
articulate my convictions with regards to peace and pacifism. In the long run,
I hope that my queries into combatant behavior and motivation can inform
programs and policies that prevent or stop conflict from occurring, as well as
assist those who are transitioning from combatant life to civilian life. But in
order to develop these new perspectives, in order to gain that knowledge, I
have to take (prudent) personal and professional risks.
“To leave a legacy, you’ve got to do stuff that’s unheard
of. You have to do the unthinkable and do the stuff you fear. That’s what this
is about – pushing beyond.”
Nick Scott talks about leaving a legacy. To me, this means
creating something, an idea or a path, that outlasts the creator. It means
taking what one has learned and sharing it with others so that they may also
benefit from that knowledge. It means being unselfish with one’s successes and
mistakes. It means contributing to the betterment of humanity, no matter how
big or small that contribution may seem. I want to leave a legacy for my
students, for my family, for those who have graciously assisted me with my
educational journey, for those who have experienced my failures right alongside
of me, and for my future children. I want them to understand that fear is
insightful, that taking chances is as important as daily exercise, that
boundaries are meant to be explored with prudence, and that they are part of
something much bigger than themselves.
So I say to you, reader, take a risk. Do the unthinkable.
Face your fears. And push beyond. Your rewards will be innumerable.
*Arielle, Castillo. 2013. “Staying Strong.” American Way Magazine, June 15.
**I actually have an entire notebook dedicated to lessons I
learned when things didn’t work out. It has been very useful on more than a few
occasions.
***My greatest personal struggle has been with my attitude
towards self-defense. Having had occasion to use it myself, I often wonder
whether I am altruistically against the use of violence, or whether I believe
that the use of violence must be taken into context. I have not yet come to a
conclusion on this issue.
****I am and have been actively involved in several veterans
associations, including the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund, Horses for Heroes,
and the Wounded Warrior Project.
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