On the Subject of Wasted Opportunities
Jan. 9th, 2007 09:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrigirlIn the issue of the New York Times Magazine dated December 17, 2006, there was a fabulous story about the nature and philosophy of philanthropy. The author tackled several heady topics like the question of if a millionaire donates money to a worthy cause for the sake of his public image can it still be considered true philanthropy? Does criticism of that sort of philanthropy say more about the giver or the criticizer? Does the possession of great wealth morally obligate a person to do good with his fortune? In the end he asked how much America's rich and super rich could reasonably donate without making a significant dent in their lifestyle? With the help of a little math, some statistics, and a little adjustment, he figured that if the top 10% of American earners, contributed a small fraction of their income (say 1/3 for those pulling down 12 million a year, down to 10% for those taking home only 92K a year) they could completely wipe out world poverty. Not US poverty, WORLD poverty. They could feed, cloth, and educate entire nations. Children in third world countries would no longer die from curable diseases because they would have access to medicine. Infant mortality rates would plummet. If only 10% of the American population would donate a fraction of their wealth. It's a staggering thought.
But, impressive as it is, that wasn't the portion of the article that really struck me. It was the following chunk of text that spoke volumes to me.
...[P]eople can earn large amounts only when they live under favorable circumstances, and that they don't create those circumstances by themselves. I could have quoted Warren Buffett's acknowledgment that society is responsible for much of his wealth. "If you stick me down in the middle of Bangladesh or Peru," he said, "you'll find out how much this talent is going to produce in the wrong kind if soil." The Nobel-Prize-winning economist and social scientist Herbert Simon estimated that "social capital" is responsible for at least 90 percent of what people earn in wealthy societies like those of the United States or northwestern Europe. By social capital Simon meant not only natural resources but, more important, the technology and organizational skills in the community, and the presence of good government.
This paragraph reminded me of a lesson I learned seven years ago during the term I spent at BMCC. I was a over-indulged sloth of a college student who had flunked out of her freshman year at a respected private liberal arts college, and was trying to get her grades up in an attempt to petition for re-admission. As a middle-class white girl I'd been raised to view community college as a dumping ground for those not intelligent or driven enough to make it at a "real" four year college.
Over time though, I discovered that wasn't the case at all. At BMCC I met people far more driven and disciplined then the whiny rich kids I'd met at Knox. In French class I met Karlyn Jean-Baptiste who, apart from holding down a full time job, was also going to school full time and logging hours at a part-time internship. And she still managed to find time to go to her favorite bar for drinks with her friends on the weekends! I once asked her when she slept, and she replied "I don't know." In Biology class I met Claudia who also worked and went to school full time while also taking care of her three year old son. Everyone else I met was just like them, people who had big aspirations and the drive, discipline, and intelligence to make them reality. They were all in school, not because they didn't know what else to do like a lot of the kids at Knox, but because they saw education as a path toward what they wanted for themselves and for their families.
Karlyn, Claudia, Rodrigo, all the friends I made there knew my story. They also knew I was ambivalent about returning to Knox. Each and every one of them said "You have to go back." All of them would have killed to attend a school like Knox, but financial restraints prevented it. They sure as all fuck had the brains and the grades. They could have gotten in easy. And it was in their assertion that I HAD to return that I finally realized Knox was not a given, it was not something I was entitled to. It was an opportunity, one that I, as a middle-class white female had been allowed and that others, perhaps way more deserving of it, had not, due purely to financial feasibility. And I realized that to waste this opportunity by slacking off and not going to class and whining about all the boys who had wronged me was irresponsible. To not utilize every opportunity to the best of my abilities when there were legions of others who would kill to be in my position was selfish and elitist. In realizing that Knox wasn't something I was entitled to by birth, but was an opportunity awarded me because of my class status, I understood that it was something I had to work for. I had to make the best out of every door it opened to me.
I worked hard at BMCC. I got back in. I returned to DJing. I went to auditions and got cast in shows. I made the Dean's List. I performed in a dance concert. I made the most of what I had.
Toward the end of my tenure there, I forgot all this. I forgot about the opportunities that are not open to everyone. That giving article got me thinking about them again, and this time on a larger scale. Even with a take home of 25K a year I'm still wealthier than a better part of the world. Once I was financially able to, I started giving money to Knox and SLC. Where else could my money, and my time for that matter, be of use to others? How else can I help, since I am obviously in a position to do so? I would like to donate money to the National Vulvodynia Association. I would like to volunteer at a suicide prevention hotline. I would like to somehow support New York City public school students. I have the opportunity. There is no reason I shouldn't. To not do so would be wasteful.
And for that matter, why don't I write a novel? Why don't I submit to literary magazines every week? I have the opportunity! I have a computer, a printer, ideas up the wazoo, and an infinite amount of spare time. There is no excuse that I haven't.
I live in a place, during a specific time, and inhabit a particular position in the social hierarchy that enables me to realize almost every single dream and aspiration I have ever had. To not do everything in my power to reach those goals is a true waste of opportunity. I shall not shit on the opportunities afforded me by not taking them. You can hold me to that.
But, impressive as it is, that wasn't the portion of the article that really struck me. It was the following chunk of text that spoke volumes to me.
...[P]eople can earn large amounts only when they live under favorable circumstances, and that they don't create those circumstances by themselves. I could have quoted Warren Buffett's acknowledgment that society is responsible for much of his wealth. "If you stick me down in the middle of Bangladesh or Peru," he said, "you'll find out how much this talent is going to produce in the wrong kind if soil." The Nobel-Prize-winning economist and social scientist Herbert Simon estimated that "social capital" is responsible for at least 90 percent of what people earn in wealthy societies like those of the United States or northwestern Europe. By social capital Simon meant not only natural resources but, more important, the technology and organizational skills in the community, and the presence of good government.
This paragraph reminded me of a lesson I learned seven years ago during the term I spent at BMCC. I was a over-indulged sloth of a college student who had flunked out of her freshman year at a respected private liberal arts college, and was trying to get her grades up in an attempt to petition for re-admission. As a middle-class white girl I'd been raised to view community college as a dumping ground for those not intelligent or driven enough to make it at a "real" four year college.
Over time though, I discovered that wasn't the case at all. At BMCC I met people far more driven and disciplined then the whiny rich kids I'd met at Knox. In French class I met Karlyn Jean-Baptiste who, apart from holding down a full time job, was also going to school full time and logging hours at a part-time internship. And she still managed to find time to go to her favorite bar for drinks with her friends on the weekends! I once asked her when she slept, and she replied "I don't know." In Biology class I met Claudia who also worked and went to school full time while also taking care of her three year old son. Everyone else I met was just like them, people who had big aspirations and the drive, discipline, and intelligence to make them reality. They were all in school, not because they didn't know what else to do like a lot of the kids at Knox, but because they saw education as a path toward what they wanted for themselves and for their families.
Karlyn, Claudia, Rodrigo, all the friends I made there knew my story. They also knew I was ambivalent about returning to Knox. Each and every one of them said "You have to go back." All of them would have killed to attend a school like Knox, but financial restraints prevented it. They sure as all fuck had the brains and the grades. They could have gotten in easy. And it was in their assertion that I HAD to return that I finally realized Knox was not a given, it was not something I was entitled to. It was an opportunity, one that I, as a middle-class white female had been allowed and that others, perhaps way more deserving of it, had not, due purely to financial feasibility. And I realized that to waste this opportunity by slacking off and not going to class and whining about all the boys who had wronged me was irresponsible. To not utilize every opportunity to the best of my abilities when there were legions of others who would kill to be in my position was selfish and elitist. In realizing that Knox wasn't something I was entitled to by birth, but was an opportunity awarded me because of my class status, I understood that it was something I had to work for. I had to make the best out of every door it opened to me.
I worked hard at BMCC. I got back in. I returned to DJing. I went to auditions and got cast in shows. I made the Dean's List. I performed in a dance concert. I made the most of what I had.
Toward the end of my tenure there, I forgot all this. I forgot about the opportunities that are not open to everyone. That giving article got me thinking about them again, and this time on a larger scale. Even with a take home of 25K a year I'm still wealthier than a better part of the world. Once I was financially able to, I started giving money to Knox and SLC. Where else could my money, and my time for that matter, be of use to others? How else can I help, since I am obviously in a position to do so? I would like to donate money to the National Vulvodynia Association. I would like to volunteer at a suicide prevention hotline. I would like to somehow support New York City public school students. I have the opportunity. There is no reason I shouldn't. To not do so would be wasteful.
And for that matter, why don't I write a novel? Why don't I submit to literary magazines every week? I have the opportunity! I have a computer, a printer, ideas up the wazoo, and an infinite amount of spare time. There is no excuse that I haven't.
I live in a place, during a specific time, and inhabit a particular position in the social hierarchy that enables me to realize almost every single dream and aspiration I have ever had. To not do everything in my power to reach those goals is a true waste of opportunity. I shall not shit on the opportunities afforded me by not taking them. You can hold me to that.
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-10 07:48 am (UTC)I wholeheartedly agree with you on this post. Thanks for making this entry.