11 November 2007

a tug of worlds//week26

Below is adapted from an article I wrote for APU magazine, "Generation Why." I think it best describes the inner turmoil I'm facing as I prepare to move from a developing country back to the wealthiest nation in the world's history.

As I leave my adolescence behind, I find myself in the middle of a ferocious tug of war. After many touching encounters with the world’s underprivileged, I have wanted to forsake my lavish American lifestyle. However, the desire to meet societal standards makes it a challenge. For a humanitarian spirit like myself, to buy or not to buy is a troubling dilemma.

At first glance it may seem simple. I must simply avoid the unnecessary acquisition of stuff. But I, like many American Generation Y-ers, was raised in a world where happiness, acceptance and success were all implicitly measured by the designer brands you owned, luxury cars you drove and extravagant vacations you enjoyed. I live in a land where 16-year-olds receive new SUVs and sports cars for birthday presents. A place where college students, including myself, carry their books about poverty, disease and other world injustices in designer bags. And where private schools schedule ski vacations so families can make use of their “snow homes.”

I always had an innate sense of caring for others. I would put money in the offering at church for those starving African children, and my family made several trips down to Mexico to give away our old clothes. I was well aware that there were many people in the world who lived nothing like I did. But it never really affected me. That is, until my first trip across the big pond to South Africa. There I made friends which shoeless children dressed in tattered clothing. There I held children whose parents’ lives had been stolen by a rampant disease called AIDS. At the formative age of 16, I found myself in a place that didn’t put value on brands or appearance, but rather on life, simply because life is a luxury there.

Upon returning, my heart had been transformed. Instead of longing for a new Coach purse, I wanted to see shoes on the feet of the AIDS orphans I had held. Yet within months, I was competing with my Juicy Couture-clad friends. I was spending $700 on purses. I was asking for a new, faster car. And I was concerned with the weight of Nicole Richie.

Year after year I returned to South Africa to see my friends who were delighted with their one tattered uniform and the chance to attend school with poor lighting and no heat. I held one dying child after another. And I would return each time to the States adamant that in remembrance of them, I would not succumb to our materialistic society. And time after time, I would embarrassingly fail at my resolve.

Now, after seven months of living amongst the poverty and crime that grabbed my attention three years ago, I wonder if seven months was enough to transform my whole heart and mind. When I return, will I be able to repress 20 years of socialization? How do I live in that world but not of that world?

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

you my mama j have a true gift of writing and a true gift of sharing :)

Devona said...

Jenny i want to wish you all the upon returning!
Don't be so hard on yourself you know we take it easy this side but know we will always love you, you have become part of our African family.
This is the first time i visited your blog and IT WAS AMAZING EXPERIENCE.
THANK YOU