Life isn’t a state of living but, instead, a state of having lived. Ultimately, the one thing a person can take with them is a fragmented recollection of their experience. Our memories are what we remember and carry toward the future, and I have a few that I hold closer than the rest.
The first takes place somewhere around the age of five, walking with my mom on the sidewalk of a park. I had seen another child who, after seeing an ant slowly scurry across the sidewalk, had squashed it with his foot. I saw one just like it in front of me and I was about to do the same when my mom stopped me. She kneeled and explained to me that the ant had a job, family, and children, all of whom were waiting for him to come back home. It was undoubtedly a false equivalency, but a well-intentioned one. As peculiar as it may sound, this made me immensely more aware of nature’s value and of mankind's unique capacity to reason and empathize with those beyond his kin.
My next memory of note came at ten-years-old. My father’s company had opened a new firm in London, and so our family moved to allow my father to help it get on its feet. It was a long way from where I grew up in Kansas City, Kansas, but it was worth the distance traveled. I encountered new people from various walks of life. They spoke differently, valued different things, and had different customs. Despite these differences, though, they shared a sense of humanity. The idea that our planet, however large, could foster such a wonderful affection between its many different peoples endeared me to travel so I could see more of it.
During my freshman year of high school, my mother reentered the workforce after a 20-year absence. She began working at a daycare that took care of children and each day she would tell me how much it rejuvenated her. She wanted me to see it for myself. I was never a big fan of children, but to appease her, I went anyway. It took time for the kids to get used to me, but the smiles, hugs, and wholesome teaching moments made me adore the daycare. Over the rest of my time in high school, I would volunteer over 2,300 hours at the daycare. I entered college inspired to major in Finance and pre-medicine, specifically because I wanted to become a pediatrician.
Once the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) forced my university to go to online schooling after the spring break of 2020, I had more time to rethink my path in life. I found that I only was pre-medicine because of the specific career of pediatrics, and not because of a love for the medical industry or an adoration of the subject matter of science. If pediatrics did not pan out, I would be left studying something I did not like to get a job I was not passionate about, all while spending tens of thousands of dollars. At the same time, I no longer felt tethered to my home university – for the first time I considered the possibility of studying abroad.
The last memory takes place here, in Seoul, South Korea. I am over 10,000 kilometers from home, and, like the ten-year-old me once wished for, I have finally been able to travel again. I have made many wonderful friends here and have become a better person because of it. Each of these memories has meant a lot to me, but this one is the dearest of all – it’s the one I make with you.
About the Author
Shane is an exchange student from the University of Kansas, United States (U.S.). He is a junior studying Finance and International Business.