This I Believe

For those who don't have Mrs. Isgitt for AP English IV, for the last assignment of the years, we we're assigned an essay to write about what we believe.  It could be about anything; something tangible, metaphorical, philosophical, or even spiritual. In my opinion, this essay has been one of the best assignments that I've ever had to do. (Trust me, there aren't many assignments that I enjoy doing) The fact that it's word limit was only 500 made it that much better. Originally, "This I Believe" essays were started by a radio station.  The radio station first asked certain people to write them, but as the popularity of the program increased, the station opened up to public submissions. Now, 60 years after the program started, I'm writing one of my own. I thought it was pretty cool, so I decide to share my essay with the folks who aren't in my English class. If you're curious, they have tons of essays online at www.thisibelieve.com that are open for public reading, and let me say, there are some fantastic writers out there with some outstanding ideas.

Gathered Around a Campfire

There’s something about a good story that we all love.  We’ve all been there.  We all have a movie that we could watch time and time again. We all have a Netflix series that we waste away our Sunday afternoons on, and whenever the series ends, we feel as if a piece of our own being is gone.  As much as we joke about never reading, all of us have a book that we constantly return to on a rainy evening.  We fall in love with the heroes, and we scorn the villains. We all countdown the days until the new season starts, or when the sequel gets released.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a good TV series as much as the next guy, but it’s the stories of real, actual people that get me hooked the most.

I went on a mission trip to Galveston during the spring break of my 8^th grade year.  The group that I went with was around 25-30, so it was a pretty close-knit, tight group.  On the last night we were there, we gathered around a campfire on the shoreline.  Now, I’m not so sure what it is about a campfire on the beach, but everyone seems to get incredibly genuine all of a sudden.  On that night, we all shared our stories; where we’ve been, where we are, and where our story hopes to be years from now.

I believe in stories. And while I do love books, movies, and shows, these aren’t the stories that I’m talking about.  I love the stories that even Hollywood cannot script: The testimonies of a young, ambitious man who overcame the poverty and drug abuse, the memoirs of an elderly woman who has had the pleasures of watching her children and grandchildren grown into adults, or even the experiences of a kid in high school just trying to be accepted.  It’s the stories like these that I heard on Galveston Beach that have inspired me to continue my own. 

As I continue living my life, I come across all different kinds of stories. Whether its stories that make me cry, or stories that make me laugh, each one that I’ve heard has affected me in some sort of fashion.  I don’t care who you are, where you’ve been, where you’re going, or what race, religion, or political background you have, I believe in your story.  I believe in stories because it reminds me that I’m not alone in this world. The memories that create these stories are what allow us to make ties between one another.  With each person’s unique, individual story, we can break the chains of isolation a link at a time. Simply listening to their story could change a person’s attitude from complete loneliness, to feeling loved, and valued. The best part is you’ll never get bored.