Being A Positive Influence

Recently, I volunteered with this program with my school, and it's called Big Brothers Big Sisters. I'm sure most people are familiar with what it is. If you happen to wonder, what is she talking about? I will tell you. If you already know, well, I will still tell you.

Basically, this program was designed so that mentors, also known as the "Big" brother or sister, will be partnered up with troubled children, or children that need a role model or positive influence in their lives. They're called the "Little" because they act like a younger sibling to a mentor. I volunteered in this program a few months ago because I want to try to have some kind of positive influence on a child's life, and help them realize their full potential. (You can read more on this organization here.)

I have a strict schedule of when I go to meet my buddy, and we meet for one hour at a time. We also get a ton of supplies to do crafts, games, and outdoor-sy activities. The people who organized this program are honestly such great people. It's really touching that people would devote their lives to helping with a volunteer organization and care so deeply about their work.

I've met with my Little only three times now, but I can tell that it's going to become a life-changing experience. Working with younger children is awesome, because sometimes we all just need that little piece of innocence in our lives. I mean, who doesn't enjoy flying kites and making (stapling together!) our own headbands? Obviously, I didn't end up wearing my headband, but sometimes I think that it's just the feeling of doing something with a child that they enjoy that makes it worthwhile.

I'm constantly amazed by how much children value your attention. They almost idolize us, and we're just regular high school students. It seems weird, though I kinda remember feeling similarly when I was in grade five. Now that I'm in grade twelve (and strangely, I don't feel that much older) I think I have a better understanding of how to interact with younger people. Not to say that I'm old. I know I'm not. Seventeen is not even an adult. I still have so far to go.

Through this program, I'm learning to be a positive influence in someone's life. Through my little buddy, I am discovering how much just one act of kindness can completely brighten someone's day, and through this experience, I hope to become a better person. I hope to become the person that everyone smiles at in the hallway, because they know that they care about them. Because doing nice things for people just feels so wonderful. Receiving gifts feels good, but deep down, we all know that giving gifts just feels so much better.

And if I can give the gift of my time, encouragement, and support to even one person, I know that I'm doing something right.

Wanderlust

wanderlust |ˈwändərˌləst|

noun

a strong desire to travel; innate desire to rove about

That settles it. It seems I have finally diagnosed myself.

And I am completely restless.

Is it just me that constantly feels just tired of everything that is familiar? Familiarity has gotten to the point of dullness, and dullness has graduated to anxiety. I want to do something. I want to be someone who matters. Someone who, when they have grandchildren, can tell them about their adventures traveling around the world and seeing new sights and meeting different people.

It only occurred to me today that I have been very uneasy with the way things are going for quite a few months now. It has dawned on me that I'm not satisfied with where I am in my life. 

It's gotten to the point where literally every morning I wake up and play my day out before me in my head. And it feels like I should just get right back into my bed and never step through my bedroom door.

Well, I tell myself, I'll drag myself to class at 8:50, listen to the teacher talk for around 45 minutes, and then begrudgingly I will work on my assignment. Next, I will convince myself that I am somehow psychic and that I know who will talk to me and what they'll say, and I'm wrong about it 90% of the time. Following this, I will tell myself what I will do when I get home, what homework I will work on, and in what order, and sometimes when I am feeling really bored, I can even start predicting what will be served for dinner. This is strange. I don't like it.

I was just discussing this topic earlier this afternoon with a friend. She mentioned that her day to day life just felt arduous. Sometimes she was just bored. Utterly spiritless. Unenthused about what one should normally be enthused about. And I completely know the feeling.

I'm starting to think it's not uncommon. Let me know if you disagree.

A couple months ago, I read "Paper Towns" by John Green. (It's definitely worth a read if you haven't already read it.) Margo Roth Spiegelman, the protagonist's love interest and childhood friend, goes through a stage of existential void. She wonders why everything is the way that it is, and struggles to find meaning in her life, stating that she has "lived [in her 'paper town'] for eighteen years and [she] has never once in [her] life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters."

And I can relate to Margo to such great extent. What is the purpose of it all? I'm no psychologist, but maybe seeing more of the world will help me develop a more well-rounded viewpoint.

But for now, to quote John Green, "I go to seek a great perhaps."

And perhaps I will satisfy my wanderlust and find great meaning.

One day.

Dyscalculia?

So the other day I stayed at school for much longer than normal. Precisely two and a half hours later. Why might I do that, you may ask? Why subject yourself to more imprisonment than six hours a day? Isn't it the first day back at school after the holidays? Wow, keener alert.

No, my friend, that is where you would be incorrect. Well actually, I'm not that keen on school, but one thing I do enjoy is learning. Particularly when I actually understand it. The other times I just sit in my desk and stare at the clock, but I've come to realize that the more I want the class to be over, the more my eyes are magnetized to the ever-steady-slowly-ticking clock that does not want me to leave its sight. And god, it is annoying as hell.

Yesterday, during my english literature class I was starting to doze off, whilst my teacher babbled on about 'Paradise Lost'. My eyes had been long glazed over, and while I was writing a character sketch for Satan for this story (this was not my idea of fun, by the way, I'm not a satanist, okay?) I started mindlessly writing numbers in the margin, and let me tell you, it was honestly the funniest thing ever after I realized what I had been doing.

I literally tuned my entire class out for around twenty minutes, and since I was sitting in the front row and clearly not paying attention, my teacher slowly looked over at me and asked if I was writing in morse code. Poor guy. I almost wanted to tell him I was summoning Satan. Ha, funny me. But not. I go to a Christian school, so things like that wouldn't go down well. He would pretty much cast me out of his classroom and demand the teachers to band together to perform an exorcism on me. NO. NOT OKAY SCHOOL. NOT OKAY.

So anyways, I just awkwardly smiled at him and told him that I was bored, wait no, of course not bored in your class... Just tired. Keeping myself awake. By summoning Satan. But really, if anyone in the world saw my sheet of paper that day I swear to god they would be 100% certain that I was attempting to perform demonic rituals on my piece of 8.5 by 11.

In the centre of the paper, I had the word "SATAN" circled, and there were lines coming out of it with character traits of him, some of which were blatantly obvious like "bad" and "liar." Yes, I have a twelfth grade vocabulary. Going all the way up the side of the page were scribbled numbers going up to around 370... Yep, they should pretty much just expel me now.