Today, I have had two of the best conversations of my entire life. And they were just about as opposite in intention as any two conversations could be.
The first was with a fellow Piersonite during lunch. Jason is a student from the UK. At the age of 19, he is in the middle of writing a book on nuclear fission and energy, has signed said book with Cambridge Press to be published next summer, and conducted a year's worth of independent research for the same book in Beijing. He also taught himself how to speak Chinese. He's kinda smart.
At lunch, after asking me how my classes were going and other such expected formalities, he looked at me and asked me what I thought about language. Thinking it a rather strange question, I answered "It's useful?" After agreeing, he began to explain an idea he imagined while on a train from Beijing to some rural Chinese village.
He was conversing with some of the other passengers but could not, for the life of him (declared he), pronounce a certain word (which I cannot remember, mainly because I speak little Chinese; luckily, it is of little consequence to this story). He said he wished the Chinese woman with whom he was speaking could have sent his brain a telepathic message which could have instructed his muscles precisely the way in which they should move in order to correct his pronunciation. From that, he realized that any communication could be switched to, what I call, "text messages of the brain."
After thinking for a bit, I expressed my concern that all need for verbal communication would be lost. With that, language (and on a larger level, expression) would essentially lose its beauty. After that, the discussion digressed into other factions of mental transportation and, in the end, became a rather heated one about what it is that makes language meaningful. I will spare you the details.
Honestly, my mind is still spinning. Jason is one of those people you maybe meet once in a lifetime. I looked at my roommate, Folake, and just asked her, "Where did he come from?" His thirst for information is really quite incredible. I've had the opportunity to talk with him several times since I've been here (perhaps not so animatedly as this afternoon) about politics, ethics, religion, film, and even literature. His knowledge seems endless and his curiosity infinitely greater. He'll win a Nobel Prize someday. Bet on it.
The second meaningful conversation I had was just minutes ago. This time, instead of with a boy genius, it was with my sister. For those of you who know her, you'll know that she has a little more work to do if she wants to win a Nobel Prize. She has been trying to Skype me almost every night since I've been here. I'll be honest-I've been negligent of her, mostly because whenever we do Skype, I have to ask all the questions and she's perfectly content to just sit in order to have a distraction from her homework. The same thing happened tonight.
10:27 PM: R we gonna Skype?
After making an excuse that was true but avoidable, I received this.
11:43 PM: I just had something i needed to ask u. Maybe wen u really have nothing to do we can talk about it.
Knowing that there would actually be a point to this conversation, I gave her a call. And I'm so glad I did. While my conversation with Jason was fulfilling and intriguing, it was not nearly as rewarding as the one I shared with my sister.
One of the girls that I had in my CL tribe this year goes to Molly's school. The week before my departure, I had been trying to encourage my sister to be nice to her and tell her "Hi" for me, but Molly has always been stubborn-she claimed that the girl was "too popular" to talk to, and that she was certainly different at school than the way I first described her. At first, I thought she was exaggerating; but after taking Molly lunch one day, I found her statement be true. However, I encouraged her to just be nice, just not best friends. I reminded Molly that the girl didn't have a great home life and that Molly should do all that she could to make sure she was taking that into account when she was evaluating her behavior.
When I called Molly tonight, she asked for advice on how to invite her to do something. I was honestly dumbfounded. As an eighth grader, I always admired my youth pastor's advice about reaching out to everyone at school but I never acted upon it. I was nerdy and kinda weird (still am, if you know me) and I knew that if I ever invited anyone outside of my circle of friends to a church event, they would just laugh at me. While (most of) my social struggles were alleviated throughout my years of high school, I still didn't get any braver. By senior year I had the courage to reach out to others, but I was unwilling to jeopardize my comfort. I was shocked that an eighth grader, who is nerdy, short, and a clarinetist, would even WANT to ask the girl to hang out on the weekend or come to one of our church's events. Shocked. Even though I had been preaching it to her, I didn't think she would act upon it. How awesome is it that she is the one who taught me a lesson?
Tonight's lesson in our large group was about finding significance here at Yale. Our speaker, John, reminded us that our significance should not come from how well we do in a class or how many prestigious fellowships we acquire; instead, it should come only from the power of Christ. While Jason is an amazing individual, undoubtedly to be praised by thousands, their approval won't count so much as that of the One who gave him such talents. But as for my sister, she has certainly made me proud and I believe her intentions have made her Father proud, too.
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