Noah’s Response

Listen to this life-changing speech!

Transcript:

We are all glass. Like glass, we bend and mold, setting into one purpose, stuck in a rigid permanence. A glass window, once molded, serves its entire life in a wall. Neel may spend his entire life being a professional soccer player. E-Jun may grow up to be a loving father and husband. Edward may live out his life being a Korean salaryman. In the Art of Self-Improvement, author Anna Schaffner talks about how we all subscribe to a particular dogma: "If we fail to discover our natural bent, and our natural work, and even our natural habitat, we cannot prosper. If, for example, we choose a profession contrary to our genius, we ‘will find fortune adverse and will sense that the heavens are our enemy’” (17). What Schaffner insinuates is that we are all defined by one natural inclination, one purpose that we were made to fill or place meant to be; however, if my life has been an indication of anything, it is that our purpose doesn't stand still, our purpose ebbs and flows, our purpose changes as we drift down life.

Before coming to SAS, I was at ICS, the International Community School for 10 years. Within the Christian halls of this institution, crocheting, surprisingly, became an unexpected pastime, intricately weaving threads much like the qualms of teenage social life. But perhaps the most enduring aspect of my experience was my foray into acting.

I know it's weird to imagine the hunk before you delivering a dramatic monologue, but in 6th grade, with a curiosity to explore the opportunities that came in middle school, I auditioned for the play. I vividly recall my initial reading of the script; my voice faltered, stuttering over the words as sweat trickled down my forehead under the meticulous eyes of the seniors. But over time, this anxiety soon transitioned into exhilaration, as I took each meeting as an opportunity to prove myself and to show the director my strengths as an actor. Every reading curdled my toes as I gripped with anticipation for my part to come up. I succumbed to my budding interest, falling into a river of drama and performing arts, letting it dictate the direction of my life. Every night and free period, I read over lines, flooding my thoughts with scenarios of my performance. When I say that I became a drama nerd, I mean it. I would spend my weekends pirating Broadway shows on my laptop and humming show tunes in my head. 

Fast forward to six months, and I was on stage, embodying the timid Bob Cratchit, sitting across from my senior, who played Ebenezer Scrooge. As I turned to face the audience, my eyes caught the gaze of hundreds. Every second of dedication, every sacrifice I had made, and every person I offended, had culminated in thunderous applause.

That moment, that eclipse of the curtain, planted a seed of theater that blossomed over the years. Yes, I became a self-professed theater geek. My playlists were filled with hits from “Hamilton” and “Les Mis”. Theatre became a natural extension of who I am, occupying my thoughts in every class, every quiet night, every dreary morning for the next four years. It wasn’t just a hobby at the time, it was a calling, a passion that led me, up until my sophomore year.

Transitioning to SAS marked a significant change in my life. Suddenly, gone were the familiar faces and the comforting sense of community, and with no peer support partner or friend to guide me, I found myself alone unable to connect or reach out to any of my peers. From a school of 80 high school students to 2000, I felt isolated, I would no longer see the same faces every day, now, I was a grain of sand in a desert, one of thousands in fact, seeing new people every day. 

But then, an opportunity arose for a fresh start. Calvin Boasberg, an upperclassman of mine, reached out at the APEX and said, “Hey you, big guy, wanna try out for rugby?” I was, of course, skeptical at first. I had never even seen rugby, much less played it, but this Calvin Boasberg described why they needed me specifically and how I could benefit the team. Initially, I wanted to continue drama, but seeing as the rugby team had reached out to me and needed me, I decided to stop going against the current, to stop trying to emulate the past, and embrace the opportunities life was handing me. Like my foray into acting, I felt the same calling. I felt this attraction to the sport, a need to prove myself. I no longer let drama orient my life, now, it was rugby orchestrating my moves. Months of preparation culminated in one moment—one chance to prove myself to the coaches. From a normal kid at school, I had become an actor. An actor who grew up to become a rugby player. The rugby player who rose to become a starter in his first year.

February arrived, and there I was, standing on a rain-soaked field with the Jakarta skyline in the distance. The whistle’s blow was the signal I had been waiting for. I charged towards my opponents, driven by a singular focus to win the game. The exhilaration I felt was reminiscent of my days in drama, albeit a more raw and visceral experience. Every second of dedication, every sacrifice I had made, every person I offended, had culminated in one chance to be IASAS champions.

At that moment, amidst the intensity and rush of the game, I had embraced my new life. Theater, once my guiding path, made way for rugby and sports, and I had let go, finally accepting my new school, my new friends, and succumbing to the natural flow. 

Moving forward to the next chapter, I do not know what my natural bent will be, and I assume neither do you. Whether you are in national service, whether you are in college or at home, whether you follow your passion or not, what you do not know is how life will change and alter your perceptions. We often cloud our vision with dreams of a future built on the present, envisioning some ideal reality. But as relationships break apart and form, as homes change and move, as we grow and mature, what we perceive to be our natural bent changes too.”The healthy eye must look at all there is to be seen, and not say 'I only want pale colors' - this is a symptom of disease. The healthy ear and nose must be ready for all sounds or smells, and the healthy stomach must accept all food in the same way that a mill accepts all it was made to grind. And so the healthy mind too must be ready for all eventualities” (Book 10). By comparing the senses to the mind, Marcus Aurelius implies that to have a functioning healthy brain, we must be open to everything life has. We shouldn’t shy from experiences based on the past, rather we should express an openness to understanding the world around us, allowing it to catalyze an introspection for who we are in the world.

In response to Schaffner’s statement, prosperity is not built on finding a natural bent. Being happy and prosperous is exploring new interests. My journey from drama nerd to sports jock is anything but following a natural bent. In both areas, I made memories that last a lifetime, and friendships that I will carry with me, and for a brief period, I found a passion that I devoted my life to. This momentous shift proves that we can’t know our natural bent as we live life. Dreams will come and go, skills will decay with time, and our happiness will change based on the quality of our circumstances. Maybe when we lay bedridden, looking at the nurse in the ICU, we will reminisce about a life not lived or a passion unfollowed. Still, as we navigate through life, the expectation of finding our natural bent is impossible, because only through embracing the flow of life and accepting new challenges can we discover what we are naturally capable of.