In A National Essay Contest
A couple of interesting notes before you delve in. Two quotes I site are exact... the other two are paraphrased, but the key word was used. (It'll make sence.) This essay also got the honors English class in trouble, because a lowley college-prep English student turned this out and none of them even bothered to write an essay. And final note of interest, pay attention to my Derridian leaning even at this young age and way before i even knew who Derrida was. So here it is....
This summer I helped paint the Commons area at my school. Another student was painting a mural on one of the walls of the Commons and was getting paid to do so. Some of my friends and I got together and decided to paint the other walls using the school colors in order to increase school spirit; but we had volunteered, so we were not getting paid. One day on my way to the area where I was painting, I stopped to talk to one of my teachers. I told her what I was doing, and she inquired as to how much money I was making. I told her that I had volunteered, and she asked me, “Why? What are you, stupid?”
Last year I had a part time job as a peer tutor. I was paid $5.25 an hour; but this year, because of educational budget cuts, the school could not afford to pay tutors. The Board of Education asked for volunteers to tutor, and I did. When my boss found out that I had volunteered my services, she asked my, “Why? What are you, stupid?”
I am a very active member of my church and my church’s youth group. I give up my time to teach religion, to serve on committees, to plan meetings, and to decorate the church. If anyone in my church needed something I would do it if I were able to. My stepfather questions why I give so much time to the church and has asked me, “Why? What are you stupid?”
I work part time at Grifo’s, an Italian restaurant, as a busboy. On weekends I am there until late at night with the other bus people. None of them drive. One night when we finished work I offered to drive them home. One of them lived about ten minuets from the restaurant, and the other lived half an hour away in the opposite direction. I had a full tank of gas, so I drove them both home. One of the waitresses wondered why I would do this and asked my, “Why? What are you, stupid?”
I often ask myself, “Am I stupid for giving up so much of my time?” Then I think about all the people I have helped. I think about how grateful they are for me having helped them, and it makes me feel good. Am I stupid? I may be. I may not be. If I am, there is one thing I do know: The world would be much better off if it were full of “stupid” people.
