I’ve always considered myself bold and daring. I’ve sat on the very top of Torre del Mangia, Italy’s second highest bell tower in Siena with my legs dangling over the edge, hovering precariously over il Piazza del Campo. I’ve stood at the edge of Victoria Falls in Zambia, just inches from 360ft (108m) of falling rapids.Whenever I look back at these experiences, I always remember how high up I was, how the people below looked like swarming ants on packed soil, or how I could feel the weight of the rapids’ current pushing against the back of my thigh. What I fail to remember are the people that securely held my waist while I sat, firmly anchored my feet while I stood, patiently waited while I finished scaling/chipping medieval walls until I wept and then gathered the courage to leap, and in my professional life, supported my crazy ideas and stood beside me in word or action while I babbled away at a workshop or amateurishly developed a program.
Taking risks have always been easy for me because I have the freedom and assurance that no one but me is dependent on my actions and I am also never alone in the process! I have the privilege to know that I don’t have much to permanently loose and when I do loose, the encouragement is there and the recovery is swift and certain (granted I don’t sleep with the dude and have babies…wait, not that kind of risk…)
In San Francisco, a person’s coolness/success is measured by experiences from the risks they took or have yet to take; the greater and more innovative the risks, the greater the admiration and awe-factor:
“I volunteer for a needle exchange program for drug users…”
“I just quit my job to go on a 3 month road trip to film a documentary”
“I’m training for a year hike through the Appalachian Mountains.”
“I moved to Sweden for him, found work there and learned Swedish.”
“I used my life savings to purchase a vineyard.”
“I live in the Tenderloin, it’s not that dangerous, I like the grit and grime.”
We admire leaving conventional places of security and comfort for uncertainty, far-away adventures, scandalous stories, and passionate explorations. We neglect to remember that we pursue such measures because the decisions we make are ultimately for ourselves and our individualistic desires. As bold and daring become the norm, we need to remember that commitment is also a risk, stability a virtue, and comfort is earned.
As I visit different learning environments in Taiwan, I notice that it is ingrained at a very young age that you don't make decisions solely for yourself. You take into account your family, your church, your work, your community. For example, a friend here asked her father for approval when she was thinking of highlighting her hair. He told her that he didn’t completely disagree but reminded her that since is it uncommon, it would impact the way people in the community perceive her - especially at the juvenile court where she works.
My friend is 34 years old.
Then there’s me. Since 13 years of age, every decision I’ve made has been “me me me.” From tongue piercings, overnight parties, shaving my head, to taking out a loan for grad school, I would never have thought to stop and ask for approval - or even just to let them know. And now I get it. My body, my decisions and my plans - as much as it is mine, was/is/will be/always will be a group freakin effort. They praise you when you're up. They catch you when you fall. I get it. I’m my father’s daughter, my mother’s child, and my grandmother’s beloved. I am my close friends' biggest confidant and cheerer-upper. Once I was the team's greatest post-game humor. And once, before dedicating two years to the southern hemisphere, I was someone’s long-term girlfriend.
Most admirable is being all those things, yet still being yourself and tending to your dreams. And I know it’s possible…I’ve witnessed it time and time again – and the most incredible and selfless are the Taiwanese women, who I have yet to learn from.
