A Gift that Cost me Nothing

So, I gave a homeless woman my hat last week.

I spent a day in Toronto, visiting my dear friend Naomi. I had to walk to get to her place, so I definitely passed many homeless individuals. I had no food with me and felt overwhelmed; there were too many. Too many cold, homeless people. Too many wealthy ones walking past.

I stopped when a young woman approached me. Her legs were like toothpicks and she wore an over-sized coat.  Her hair was dark and matted on her head. Her face was covered in scabs. "Excuse me. Hi. I'm homeless. I weight 68 pounds and have lupus. I'm cold and I'm hungry. Can you help me?" Her voice was high-pitched; was she even out of her teenage years?

I wasn't sure what to do, so the first thing out of my mouth was, "Do you want my hat?" She smiled faintly and said that'd be great, but wondered if I had anything else. I didn't-- or so I said and then I went on my way, hatless.

I instantly felt colder and had to pull my hood over my head. I shivered and felt good that I had given her my hat. She probably needed it more than I did. And this good feeling lasted a whole three seconds.

Why didn't I give her my scarf? Or my gloves? Or even my coat? Why the hat? And it didn't take long for the answer to become quite clear. Too clear. Clearly, not the scarf. It was my favourite scarf and certainly my warmest one. My gloves? No way. My grandparents gave those to me for Christmas, and I hadn't found gloves this warm before. Why not my coat? That'd be crazy. I'd be coatless walking around Toronto and besides, it was my warmest winter coat. My only winter coat. I didn't give her my other articles of clothing because they were my favourite and/or my warmest. Yet, the hat was an easy gift. It didn't take much thought, effort or sacrifice. I had seven others sitting at home in my closet, and besides, I didn't even like that one that much anyway.

Is this what most of my giving is like? Do I give away things that cost me nothing? Things I'll never even miss? Do I even know what it's like to give away something that I'll miss dearly? Something that I can't replace? Something that I only have one of?

Jesus calls us to sacrificial giving, but I wonder if I've ever done that in my life. Ever given until it hurt? After it hurt? I can't possibly be surrounded by so much excess so that I can simply enjoy a comfortable life. That cannot be why.

Why I'm Thankful for my Liberal Arts Degree...

"So, uh... what do you want to do with that?"

"What kind of job do you want to get?"

"What can you do with a degree in Global Studies?"

Yeah, yeah, yeah. If you had a liberal arts education, I'm sure that these questions are way too familiar. Maybe you've spent family holidays dreading when the question will pop up at the dinner table. Maybe you've spent some time coming up with an answer that sounds logical, purposeful and perhaps all-encompassing enough to avoid further questions. Maybe you've resorted to grad school.

I relate. I really do. With a Bachelor of Liberal Arts and Sciences in Global Studies and a concentration in Arabic and the Middle East and a focus on Wealth, Poverty and Development, I really don't have a clear career path set out before me. Too bad there's no such thing as a Global Studyarian. I'd be a prime candidate, I tell you.

And while it sounds like I'm bemoaning my education that gave me very few tangible skills and an extremely vague career path, I can tell you quite confidently that I loved my liberal arts education (LAE). And I'll tell you why...

I learned to read and to read well. I've read anthologies, research papers, novels, poetry and ethnographies. I've learned how to learn from a variety of sources-- not just text books. My classes explored documentaries, novels, TV shows, fiction and non fiction alike. No, not always the most "reliable" sources, but we were encouraged to figure out what we could learn from unlikely sources.

I had the freedom to explore my interests. Okay, so I understand that my specific LAE is not necessarily the norm... but I loved when it came time to pick new courses. Other than making sure that I got into the Arabic class I needed, I would sit and browse through all the courses. If one looked even mildly interesting, I'd write it down... and then when I was through, I'd figure out how to get into as many as possible. It was fabulous. I was excited for all my classes every semester. Only twice did they disappoint, but even then... hey, everyone has to take a class or two you didn't like, right?

I had time to learn a foreign language. So huge. I loved this. I took Arabic every semester I was in university. I was able to take Portuguese for a semester and no, it did not set me back on my graduation timeline. I'm grateful for that opportunity and I already miss the ease that existed in taking a foreign language.

I learned to look into a topic, find an argument and then make a point. Though I wrote plenty in high school and I have always enjoyed writing, my university education helped me come up with my own topics... form my own arguments and make my own points. I wasn't writing a paper on what my teacher wanted, rather I was structuring a paper on what I wanted. I learned to present information, not just in way that made sense to me, but in a way that others could follow well.

My education changed they way I think. I've learned to process the world apart from simple formulas or equations that should work, but rarely do. I've learned to see the world from an extremely interdisciplinary perspective. Our society's problems cannot be pinpointed to a single discipline. Poverty? Definitely more than economics at work there. Oppression? Whoops, more is needed than social justice. Lack of education? Yup, building schools won't fix it. This complex world was explored in and through my classes.

Oh, and... I was able to graduate in three years. Sure, I didn't do a double degree, I didn't get a minor and took some summer classes. But I was able to finish early! Enough said :)

The hardest part about not having a job or an occupation is not the free time. The problem is not not having things to do.

You see, there are many things that I can do and that I do do. I've been extremely involved with several non-profits here and my volunteer experience in Guelph will be enough to fill a resume by the time this year is up. I have cooked much, translated much, read much, slept much and have certainly found things to do. I have crocheted a scarf and I'm learning to knit. I've tried yoga and currently manage six Facebook pages. I've patched clothing, made homemade flour tortillas, have dreams of starting to garden and keep up with many blogs. I don't sit around with nothing to do. Sure, I have days where I do absolutely nothing, but that's not because there is nothing to do. I just chose not to do it.

The hardest part, then, is having nothing that must be done... No schedule that must remain fixed, no deadlines that cannot be moved and no appointments that must be kept. And with this, comes the assumption that my time is free... cheap... usable...shareable...and expendable. Since none of my commitments are pressing, they're rarely seen as true "commitments." Since my tasks are not jobs, other tasks can take their place.

That... that is the hardest part.