i am he as you are he as you are me [This I Believe]

here t'is

Anyone who has seen me open my mouth over the last four years has heard all about what I believe. More than likely, most of you are sick of hearing about it.

 

That’s okay, so am I. I’ve practically written a dissertation on drug decriminalisation, I’ve lectured ad nauseum on the desperate need for universal health care, education, and housing. I’ve had lengthy discourses on apologetics and ethics and why U2 is the best band ever (and they are).

 

I’m sure everyone knows that I’m fundamentally a remorseful narcissist, or at least a conflicted intellectual. Or maybe you’re all as tired of me as I am of myself. So this is the core value I have not destroyed forests to propagate, and the guiding principle that I have not defined to death.

 

I believe in you.

 

I couldn’t be who I am without you; whether you hate, love, or tolerate me– we’re so closely connected that our lives would be radically different if either one of us had never existed. No matter what I think of your politics or your driving or your personal hygiene, I need you. No matter if I’ve never said two words to you or you’re my best friend. Whether you know or care or not, each and every person I’ve ever met has affected me, challenged me, touched me. You’re all I have, and it’s far too much to deal with. I think you should know that you have the power to make your dreams come true, and to find new dreams if you get bored. You can make your own happiness, and your own despair. You have the power to radically alter someone’s life, am I not proof enough?

 

And, somewhere deep inside, I know that if you have this amazing ability, then so do I, and that means that my ideas and my dreams and my desires are no less and no more attainable than yours. But, I still need you, because I get caught up in my own brilliance too much.

 

You, my eternal audience, are part of this great story I’m living out, and I might presume that I have at least a cameo in yours. You’ve seen me yell and held me when I cried— like Ashley did after we watched The People Bomb in Mr. Atha’s class this year. You’ve given me rides home because I’m too lazy to learn how to drive— like Danny did that day he rescued me from the pedestrian-killers that speed down Yukon Avenue after sixth hour. For the record, I would like to thank Thomas, Lacy, Lacy’s Mom, Lacy’s Uncle Joe, Karly, Hayley, Lauren, Kathy, Brad, Katie, Brandon, Ashley, Christina, Melanie, Janey, Danny, Jasmin, Veronica’s Mom, Kayla’s Mom, Wes, Brandi, Caleb, and Walden for being most excellent and amiable chauffeurs. These acts of kindness have built up my faith in you, all of you. The memories of moments when people went out of their way to be good, or you who were inspiring even if I only saw you in the hallway, or in the mountains, or sitting on top of a car in the Haight of San Francisco. Knowing all of you has expanded my world a hundred-fold and made my heart grow three sizes, and I want you to remember this if you ever feel discouraged or ostracised or powerless or weak or hurt:

 

I believe in you.