Dance!

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” -T. Roosevelt

I remember the butterflies in my stomach when I read the brochure on the bulletin board, the one that described the trip to Europe that was being offered by the school—London, Paris, Amsterdam... As a tenth grader I had been dreaming of going to Paris for at least one third of my life, but it had always seemed, in more ways than one, so very far away. When I got to the bottom of the brochure and read what the trip would cost, Paris remained as far away for me, as it had ever been.

I decided that I couldn’t go because—where was all of that money going to come from?

But then I decided—

I would try.

I thought hard and for a long time before I came up with a plan that, in addition to saving more money from my part time job, included approaching business owners and inviting them to make a donation to my European cause, in exchange for a mention in a diary that I would keep and offer for publication in the school newspaper. A lot of people said “no” to me but some people actually did say “yes.”

Mr. Ellis, who was my principal, let me use the phone in his office at lunch time and between classes, and it wasn’t long before the office staff was setting their watches according to my coming and going.