In the past few weeks, I have been reminded of the story of the vault dweller. Emerging from a cave left untouched by a great war, a man enters a world rampant in radiation and ruled by defiance. Last of the survivors, he is left to his own devices in his search for a missing person and a place to call home… I played a lot of Fallout over the break. 

I have a funny story I would like to share… er, okay, now it’s funny. These past few weeks have also reminded me of last year’s Community Service Awards. I remember last year exiting the portables and sitting at the back of the auditorium. I should have been happy for the other academites, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t that I wasn’t called up. I thought it was an unnecessary waste of time. One hundred hours… three hundred hours, eleventeen hundred thousand hours. Hey man! I get it. They’re better than me!.. Oh, the funny part: I walked through the rain going home. This year I sat on the curb, waiting for my ride… Sorry if it didn’t meet it’s expectation. 

Why must they make our works so public? The school puts on a show, expecting that everyone has contributed the same amount of work, and that this speech matches exactly how it went. They made it sound as if our tasks were near impossible, as if everyone has turned away except us, the heroes; selfless, compassionate. A diamond pickaxe pales in comparison to that which is our awesomeness—that because of us, the poor and suffering no longer have to live on the streets. Hey man! I don’t know exactly how it went. I just know that these words do not match the nature of my work. 

Over the summer, I played mahjong with old people. Now, my service remains not as noble as clothing the hungry and feeding the naked, but my service it remains. Hey man! The citizens I have helped had a similar amount of experience as I had when I first began. In my service, I have improved in a game I have been interested in learning. But volunteering wasn’t hard, man; I go to the library, sign a sheet of paper, I wait for the day to arrive. Someone else could have easily taken my place. 

And what is the big deal about cultural points? What does it mean if one of us receives an award for attending events? Is the school saying that these kids are more cultured? Hey man! Just because someone was at a party, doesn’t mean they appreciated the theme of that party. For all we could have known, he went there, he ate nachos, and then he slumped over the table and fell asleep. 

Oh, also if you’re trying to receive credit for your work… Hey man! Stop staring and looking pretty on camera. You are taking action and responsibility as good American citizens. Don’t pose, please; it just looks like you were standing there. Get some dirt under your nails, continue in your works of charity, and pay no attention to the handsome, middle-aged man with the charismatic smile. That’s just my advice, man… 

That was two weeks ago. I know I should be over it by now. I am. I know that it may not sound like it, but I am. I might be lying, but I have confidence that I AM. Now, if you think that I am belittling the achievements of our generation, who shall be tasked with sewing the gaps our predecessors left unstitched, no, I that is not what I intend to express. So for all those who did get something out of that cavalcade, I would like to send out my utmost congrats. Hey man (I don’t always say that), I don’t know where you have been, or what you have done to earn an audience. Yet for all we know, as your audience, we need more people with the same amount of servitude as you have. Do not waste your time listening to he who lives below the surface. The ceremony is bound to happen next year, anyways…