I've had some time to process last Friday night and I think I'm finally beginning to believe what I've told so many people to avoid actually talking about it. It was good. It actually was. I was totally caught off guard by the whole evening. For something that required so much thought and planning I really believed that it would be perfect. How silly of me. I've been a part of enough events to know that nothing ever really goes according to plan.

Looking back I almost have to laugh at how many things fell apart in preparation for this concert. Venues, bands, posters, merchandise, etc. So it really shouldn't have surprised that only 50 or so people showed up when I was expecting at least 200. It seems almost laughable now.
I was expecting to break $1000 at this event alone, which of course would ensure us the much desired mystery box for the November challenge. The whole club was super pumped for that box, and with all our events in November it shouldn't have been a problem. But of course with last weekend's babysitting fundraiser not going according to plan in combination with this one we only managed to raise $354 for our friends at Awere.

And there it is. The cynicism, the doubt, the denial, the self pity, the feeling of failure. Only $354? So we're not moving mountains with that amount, but every big starts with a little, right? Since when did raising money to rebuild these war torn schools in Uganda become about us? When did our mentality shift from the children to a cardboard box? Of course our whole purpose was for the children, but I can't help remembering how disappointed I was when I realized we wouldn't break (or even come close to) our $1000 mark.

It took some time (I can be pretty stubborn) to see that the evening was not a complete failure as I was beginning to think it was. Here's the amazing things that came out of it:

When our headlining band backed out on us 2 days before the show I was so skeptical of anyone who would replace them. I couldn't have been more wrong. I don't think we had a greater blessing that evening than Rachel Cohen. This girl is fabulous. She so willingly filled in for us with 1 days notice. At dinner before the show she tells me "so, I thought it would be good to have a song about what we're benefiting, so I decided to write one." As she told me the lyrics across the table I was covered in chills head to toe. "He cries for his mother and hopes that no other man with a gun sees his tears. They told him if he cried then he would lose his life and he wonders if death is that bad, might be better than this life he's had." The power of these words came alive as she sang them. Everyone was dead silent, pondering the reality of these words. Tears streaked my face as I sat there listening, remembering why we were all there in the first place. What a beautiful reinforcement of how utterly desperate an end is.

I was so blown away at how many people were so gracious and encouraging to me when things did not go according to plan. I couldn't even express how thankful I was to all my friends and hallmates that came and made the most of it. To watch friends, that I know loathe dancing with all that is in them, dance the night away anyways was just incredible. I have fabulous friends. Even people I had just met or barely knew were super great. I had one guy come up to me and thank me for what we were doing. He was so encouraging and said not to worry about the attendance because it was a great evening and he said with events like this we can never know who was affected and that good can come from it, even if I don't see it.

There were so many small things like that that made the evening so great: The time of bonding that Emily and I had by praying before it started and Taco Bell after it was over, talking with the club workers and sharing the story with them, getting to know the bands and DJ more.

It may have been a small crowd, but it was a great experience. It was a time of learning, growing, bonding, and sharing the story that has so changed me. So while we may not get the mystery box, we are still working and fighting and doing what we can to end this war. And I can promise that we will not quit until Uganda experiences peace and restoration.

Here's Rachel's song:

I'm going to a school that costs ungodly amounts of money and for whatever reason I don't value the education offered here. I've used the line "I'm just so busy" more times than I can count this semester, either to cop out of something or because I'm cramming. But if I'm totally honest with myself, it's really because I'm lazy and I just don't care. I don't care that my parents are sacrificing so much to send me here. I don't care that I have a top quality education at the tip of my fingers. I don't care that my professors genuinely care about me and my success but also about what's going on in my life. I don't care that I've been shown grace time and time again when I turn something in late. I don't care about grades and I just don't care about learning. Wow. How tragic.

Even as I sit here writing about how much I wish I cared about valuing education I have 3 papers and 2 tests looming over my head.

And what's ironic is that I desperately desire knowledge and understanding. It seems like every time I sit down to write a paper or study for a test though something more exciting or glamorous comes up. I loathe facebook, and yet I spend a good majority of my day on it. I so badly want to break out of this routine of education indifference that I've managed to slide into. I want to be an intelligent person. I want to soak up this education while I have it so readily available. I don't just want to make As (which isn't happening anyways) but I want to learn and care about what I'm studying. I'm sick of staying up til 3 am working on stuff that should've been done ages ago and could've easily been done if I had just gotten off my ass and done it. I'm sick of being so distracted. I'm sick of blaming everything but myself for my poor study habits. I'm sick at not being able to manage my time.

So step 1-get off the computer
step 2- dust off that text book and crack it open
step 3- work.

A Single Grain of Rice

I've been going through a strange Disney phase since joining college. My freshmen year I watched more children movies than I could even count and the same is beginning to be true for this year. Maybe it's because of my lack of a normal Disney/princess fetish when I was younger (probably due to growing up with two older brothers) or maybe it's because my roommate LOVES Disney with her whole heart or some combination of the two, but I've taken a liking to these movies. Watching them now that I'm older is definitely enlightening. I catch the sarcasm and innuendos that I never knew these movies had but I also see the truth presented in these movies.
Last week I went to Balcony for a Mulan/knitting party. Mulan is one of my all time favs so I was pumped to get to see it again. One of the lines that I could not ignore this time around was by Mulan's father: "A single grain of rice can tip the scale, so one man may be the difference between victory and defeat." Wow. How had I never seen how profound that is?
Of course this made me think of Invisible Children, because let's be honest, what doesn't make me think of it these days. Invisible Children is an organization that understands the power of people and does not underestimate the voice of the individual.
I've been really frustrated as of late at the "American" in my peers and society. Well, we live in America, we are Americans, duh. So what do I even mean? I mean this sex craving, consumeristic and selfish culture that holds the mentality that anything that does not directly affect us is not our problem. We want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, and if we're honest we can say that even the need to be a part of something is tainted with the desire to feel better about ourselves. It's sick and twisted and I'm so annoyed by living in a culture that does not think that we have the responsibility or ability to create change.
Friday I was talking to a friend about one of our IC fundraisers and he didn't how our raising money is helping anything. My roommate and I explained that what we raise here goes to rebuild schools and provide an education for what will be the future leaders of Uganda. He started saying how throwing money at the problem won't fix the problem and that if Kony is arrested it will just cause more uproar and that he can't do anything practical that will actually help. Of course by this point the whole conversation turned into an argument and there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. Not really. But I did get pretty heated. I am much too stubborn to be told that what I am doing isn't productive and doesn't hold any value. I know that it is and that it does. I guess showing people that is a lot harder and more frustrating than I thought it would be, especially when they're my friends.
This makes me think if I would even be a good Roadie. I know that I believe in the work being done at this organization and that I love talking about it, but I also know that they get a lot of rejection and I can just imagine how exhausting that must be to always deal with not only the skeptics, but those who straight up don't care and think this is a waste of time and energy.
I firmly believe that one person can make a difference on a small scale, but also on a huge scale. And I love that I can see that in ways that maybe aren't so conventional, like Mulan. I guess my desire then is to be that grain of rice that does tip the scale, but in a direction that is good and right and just.