soopastryheart

Honie has a weekly assignment in her history class that requires her to pick a current event, preferably one that affects internationally. She does a short write up, the usual who-what-why, and for extra credit, she asks a family member for his/her opinion on the chosen subject. And because she’s an ambitious (and persistent) over-achiever, there hasn’t been a single week where she hasn’t sent me a cnn.com link.

And each week, I read those articles; ones that don’t make the televised highlights, ones that are unlikely to make Twitter trends because they aren’t about failed bombing attempts, sex-addicted golfers, or the greatest punk’d episode involving an aluminum air balloon. She picks articles that aren’t the most popular or talked-about; a shooting of Togo’s soccer team, or an attempted assassination of a Danish political cartoonist, or even, a human fat smuggling ring (well maybe you talk about these things, and I’m just triumphantly unaware). She picks articles that I would have otherwise passed by, news I wouldn’t have heard of if not for her dedication to five measly extra points. Yet, I have noticed a recurring theme in the stories she chooses, and so I recently asked her:

“Why do you pick such depressing articles?”

And she looked at me, in her now perfected I’m-on-the-brink-of-teenage-hood-so-everything-you-say-is-dumb look, and said, “cause that’s all there is”.

There are really only two channels ever watched in this house: KBS World (Korean) and CNN. When Michael Jackson died, CNN remained on the entire day, from the initial announcement of him being rushed to the hospital, to Anderson Cooper late at night. We spent the better part of our Christmas watching looped images of an idle plane on the ground. And when Balloon Boy happened… okay, so I wasn’t riveted by that one, because, let’s get real… there was no way that kid was in there – that thing looked like something that’d be popping away on my stove during a Friday night with the 7th season of 24. When major things are going on in the world, CNN becomes the most prominent voice in the room (how about some endorsement points here, CNN?). We’re usually not even sitting around the television, eyes glued to the screen, but we hear it, on the way to the kitchen for the third cup of coffee, or when we’re frantically searching for a cell phone that’s unfortunately been placed on vibrate. On top of Don Lemon’s sexy baritone filling our empty living room, my parents subscribe to a couple of Korean newspapers, and I check NYT twice-daily. And now with Honie having CNN as her third-most visited page (right behind Gmail and Failblog), it’s safe to say that as a family, we’re generally aware, more or less, of the major events in this world.

And aside from occasional silly viral videos being mentioned (YouTube “surprised kitten”), the material is almost always gravely serious, reminding us how awful human beings can be to one another. It can be anything as trivial as congressmen calling the President a liar, or unbelievable as a 98 year-old retiree killing her 100 year-old roommate in a nursing home – with the nightly news, it’s hard to see the scale of good and bad being anything than completely lopsided.

Honie and I were never into beauty pageants, but at one point in our lives, we truly believed and hoped world peace was possible. Looking back though at that fleeting moment in time, we might have had better luck investing in the existence of unicorns or the likelihood of either of us marrying Zac Efron. I feel sorrier for kids today, because I think idealism tends to escape at a much younger age – Honie is not yet thirteen, and she is skeptical of approximations and assumptions, and finds political frauds and scandals underwhelming. Perhaps I was more naïve or sheltered than her, but I don’t remember being pessimistic until I was learning to parallel park.

It’s a frightening moment when you realize how high your tolerance has become, when despicable, gruesome, evil acts no longer have the ability to truly shock you. You accept that there are people in this world who will always be miserable human beings. You accept that lies, manipulations, and pettiness are just as much a part of human nature as is ignorance, jealousy, and greed. Next time you watch the news, try taking a shot each time you hear any conjugations of two words: corruption and violence. Half an hour later, you’ll be ready to take off your top and dance on a table. Had I started this drinking game from Honie’s age, I would have already died of liver failure.

I thought there was very left in this world I could be surprised by. But I, along with the rest with the world, watched in stunned silence as the details of the Haiti earthquake unfolded. I watched people run in chaos, caked in dust, rubble, blood, and despair. I watched the desperate attempts to search through annihilated buildings for the slightest hint of life. This wasn’t about adultery or bailouts or NBC late night. This was devastation in its truest form. There was no sleaze-ball to shake your head at, no malicious terrorist group, or deranged individual to blame. Instead, I covered my mouth with my hands, held my breath, and cowered at the threat of tears.

It’s easy in times of disaster to feel helpless, to surrender and to pity. You watch the images of destruction and the lives affected with an unshakeable feeling of hopelessness. For a country already living in destitute conditions, this earthquake could have been considered the final straw.

But whatever feelings of despondency I may have initially felt disappeared almost as quickly as it came. You could finally put your lightening-fast thumbs to good use, texting in donations. In a matter of seconds, you could donate $5 or $10 instantly. You could assuage that feeling of helplessness down a few notches, just with a few clicks. College students were donating their weekend money usually reserved for Busch Light and Pho. Minimum-wage workers were pledging half their weekly paychecks. Kids were pooling their allowances.

During a time where the majority is still icing from the steel-toed kick in the economic balls, people were contributing what they could, all with the general lament to be doing more. We were reminded, that despite our own difficulties and problems, we could be far, far, worse.

My friend Billy took the initiative to help to a whole new level when he aimed to hit $1000 in donations. He challenged his friends and family to help achieve it, and in less than a day, he had accomplished the mark. Just a few days shy of two weeks in his endeavor, Billy has surpassed every target he had set, and is now well on his way to a whopping $15,000.

And I’ve collected a few similar stories since: a couple dancer friends of mine held free, donation-encouraged classes to raise nearly $900. A brilliant photographer friend offered a wedding package that made me want to propose to the next dude I saw, just so I could take advantage of the discount. A few corporate friends challenged their companies to match donations. People threw keggers and carwashes. Several pledged part, if not all, of their tax returns.

I am fortunate and privileged to be able to call these folks my friends. And besides the obvious inspiration and encouragement these individuals demonstrate, they also remind me that no matter how cynical and jaded one may become over time, nothing is ever truly lost. Inspiration can come in the most unlikely of places, in the darkest tragedies, but in the most potent dosages. After all, hope forever remains as the foundation of idealism.

I am not naïve enough to think that other terrible things in the world have not been happening simply because the Haiti earthquake is taking the forefront. Haiti coverage and interest is slowly dwindling, and before you know it, Honie will be right back to sending me articles about shootings in obscure cities in countries I don’t know how to pronounce. We’ll be right back to the finger pointing and head shaking. With the recent election in Massachusetts, I’m bracing for another healthcare shitstorm. And I’ve got two words for you: Stimulus Project.

It’s unfortunate that the only times we seem to set aside our differences and work altruistically and cohesively are times of disaster and desperate need. Still, I hope that I carry this reminder with me for a good long while – that no matter how big of assholes we can be to each other, we always hold the capacity to change, no matter how temporarily. My friends, as well as the rest of the world, have shown an overwhelming level of generosity and compassion to a country that we otherwise know very little about. Just because the good stuff doesn’t make the front page, doesn’t mean they don’t happen, or that they matter any less. The good stuff doesn’t need to be acknowledged in print or by Campbell Brown to feel vindicated (but it doesn’t hurt either!).

PS. Read up on Billy’s crusade at http://billysbirthday.tumblr.com/ He is offering up his time and services to help you, all while you help the greater good. And ladies, when Billy says he’ll do ANYTHING for you, I’m not entirely sure he means removal of any pants. But I could be wrong.