By Roshni Jain - Trinity '15
Two miles into the hike up Mount Si, I was sure I couldn’t go any farther. My gluteal muscles burned, my calves were tight, and I was tired. So, so tired. I cursed myself for being so out of shape. But, I pushed past my exhaustion and kept hiking because, as the worn-out cliché mandates, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
I was motivated by the prospect of the beauty that would greet me at the top of the hike. Everyone had said the view from the top would be beautiful—but I didn’t know what that meant. To invoke another tired cliché, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I wondered whether the view would truly be worth the physical hell I was forcing my body to endure. But, wondering did me no good. I just had to keep hiking and see it for myself.
I was motivated by the prospect of the beauty that would greet me at the top of the hike. Everyone had said the view from the top would be beautiful—but I didn’t know what that meant. To invoke another tired cliché, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I wondered whether the view would truly be worth the physical hell I was forcing my body to endure. But, wondering did me no good. I just had to keep hiking and see it for myself.
I began DE Seattle much like I began my hike up Mount Si—blissfully unaware of the challenging terrain ahead. I bopped around Seattle wide eyed and bushy tailed, soaking in the International District and the vibrant atmosphere at the Solstice Festival. But, I was soon confronted with challenges that knocked the wind out of me, forcing me to take pause.
Challenges like facing my privilege on the public bus. Truth be told, I hadn’t ridden a public bus before Seattle. When I’m at home or on campus, I have the luxury of driving a car to get from point A to point B. But, the public bus is like a microcosm of society where I interact with people from all walks of life, people I’d be shielded from in a car. I admit that I felt uncomfortable the first few times I rode the bus. Given the choice, I would’ve driven a car to Amara instead. But, the more I rode the bus, the more I appreciated and empathized with the people on it. And, the more I came to understand just how fortunate I am.
Challenges like facing my privilege on the public bus. Truth be told, I hadn’t ridden a public bus before Seattle. When I’m at home or on campus, I have the luxury of driving a car to get from point A to point B. But, the public bus is like a microcosm of society where I interact with people from all walks of life, people I’d be shielded from in a car. I admit that I felt uncomfortable the first few times I rode the bus. Given the choice, I would’ve driven a car to Amara instead. But, the more I rode the bus, the more I appreciated and empathized with the people on it. And, the more I came to understand just how fortunate I am.
Challenges like debating controversial issues such as race, power and privilege, food sustainability and accessibility and consequences of population growth. Because the 16 of us come from such varied backgrounds, we contribute different modes of thought to our discussions. Hearing my peers talk so passionately about issues important to them was such an enriching experience. But, it was also difficult. I realized I hadn’t previously understood the obstacles faced by people from low-income backgrounds. Sure, I knew about them in the abstract, but I didn’t really understand the way they impact an individual’s or family’s daily life.
Challenges like contemplating the non-profit sector. Before this experience, I knew next-to-nothing about non-profits. That’s one of the reasons I was drawn to DE Seattle—I wanted to learn about them. But, as I’ve gained more knowledge about non-profits, I’ve grown more confused about their efficacy. On the one hand, I’m in complete awe of the way they address gaps in society and work to improve the state of things. As Heidi Breeze-Harris, one of my favorite speakers this summer, said, “Non-profits do the work the government fails to do effectively.” But, on the other hand I feel frustrated by the bureaucracy and lack of efficiency that seems to plague most non-profits.
My hike up Mount Si functions as somewhat of a metaphor for my eight weeks in Seattle. I underestimated the physical turmoil my muscles would suffer as I hiked Mount Si much like I underestimated the challenges this program would ask me to face. Halfway through my hike, I felt like I couldn’t go any farther. Similarly, I felt overwhelmed by the questions that arose in my mind about halfway into the program. But, I rallied in both cases and pushed onwards—thanks to the support of new friends.
I wouldn’t have been able to hike past mile two without the support of Kuo, Zelie and Rhona. We gave each other support and encouragement as we strove to finish the hike, to achieve our goal. I’m so grateful for each person I met through DE Seattle. The conversations we’ve shared on busses, in Club 147, during service events and everywhere in between have all helped me think through the various challenges I’ve been faced with this summer.
Challenges like contemplating the non-profit sector. Before this experience, I knew next-to-nothing about non-profits. That’s one of the reasons I was drawn to DE Seattle—I wanted to learn about them. But, as I’ve gained more knowledge about non-profits, I’ve grown more confused about their efficacy. On the one hand, I’m in complete awe of the way they address gaps in society and work to improve the state of things. As Heidi Breeze-Harris, one of my favorite speakers this summer, said, “Non-profits do the work the government fails to do effectively.” But, on the other hand I feel frustrated by the bureaucracy and lack of efficiency that seems to plague most non-profits.
My hike up Mount Si functions as somewhat of a metaphor for my eight weeks in Seattle. I underestimated the physical turmoil my muscles would suffer as I hiked Mount Si much like I underestimated the challenges this program would ask me to face. Halfway through my hike, I felt like I couldn’t go any farther. Similarly, I felt overwhelmed by the questions that arose in my mind about halfway into the program. But, I rallied in both cases and pushed onwards—thanks to the support of new friends.
I wouldn’t have been able to hike past mile two without the support of Kuo, Zelie and Rhona. We gave each other support and encouragement as we strove to finish the hike, to achieve our goal. I’m so grateful for each person I met through DE Seattle. The conversations we’ve shared on busses, in Club 147, during service events and everywhere in between have all helped me think through the various challenges I’ve been faced with this summer.
I’m sure you’ve surmised that I made it to the top of Mount Si. This would be a pretty flawed metaphor if I hadn’t. The view from the top was indeed beautiful, and I’d urge you to do the hike yourself if you have the chance. As I emerged from the shade of the trees and spilled onto the clearing at the top, I was astounded by the view in front of me. The day was clear and sunny, and I could see for miles and miles.
As I gazed out onto the horizon, I realized something—the view was made meaningful by every drop of sweat, by all of the aches in my muscles, by the comradery of my peers, and by every experience I had during the hike itself. I was reminded of another cliché, my last one for now, “It’s about the journey, not the destination.”
DE Seattle has been an exhilarating experience. And, a confusing one. Like they told me I would, I have more questions now than I did before June 20th. But somehow, things are clearer. I’m at the top of the hike, and I see the horizon stretch out before me in all directions. I see the possibilities and the opportunities. The question is—which path am I going to take?
DE Seattle has been an exhilarating experience. And, a confusing one. Like they told me I would, I have more questions now than I did before June 20th. But somehow, things are clearer. I’m at the top of the hike, and I see the horizon stretch out before me in all directions. I see the possibilities and the opportunities. The question is—which path am I going to take?