“Americans have mastered the ‘art’ of living with the unacceptable,” —Breten Breytenbach
I have been circling this statement for months, disturbed by Breytenbach’s insight about who we are: a people seemingly ill-equipped to face our huge environmental, civic and political issues. Our nation appears unable to engage in any meaningful introspection, which proceeds truth telling — forget behaving well.
That this “art” has been mastered and polished by our sacred and trusted institutions leads to a most despairing thought: how low can we go? And, as observed by a recent student, this is not a recently acquired talent. When asked if he was hopeful, this student said, “It’s hard to be hopeful when our nation, despite its aspirational vision, is predicated on theft and genocide, with no attempts to make amends.” It is tough to teach these days, and even tougher to be a student.
I personally insist that I teach within the context of hope, and as luck would have it Steven Garcia-Machuca, a past student, rescued me recently. Over one coffee and egg sandwich, he single-handedly offset Breytenbach’s sobering assessment of America, reminding me what it looks like to clearly stand up for one’s ideals. Steven — by his very nature and his choices — lays waste to the false notion that our souls can survive in a world where we accept the unacceptable. He asserts that when we trade our word and dreams for the quick fix, the cost is irreparable.
Steven was a co-valedictorian at his graduation from Basalt High School on June 2, 2019. Since then, he graduated from Harvard with a degree in Global Health Policy. Steven has persevered — rising above the Valley’s economic challenges, defying the smothering dynamics of racism — and always with grace, dignity and an insistence on innocence.
Innocence is not passive. It is an assertive process, an existential predisposition to choose to never be complicit in anything that causes harm or strips dignity from anyone. Steven’s innocence means he cuts no moral corners, and it is sustained by patience and hard work. When he was in my class, Steven’s innocence was contagious, and his voice powerful.
Steven’s valedictorian speech included: “Success is a very subjective concept. Is it a destination? A state of being? A mindset? Many of us equate academic and professional achievement as true success. Yet, real success is gaining knowledge, acquiring peace and feeling love in all types of situations. Contentment and self-love are not things money can buy, yet are essential aspects of a truly successful life.”
Life patiently waits for all of us to find what Steven describes as “success.” Luckily, the inherent calm and grace that comes from earning our way appeals to our primal nature. As we catch our breath, we thirst for a state of clarity; firstly to find the truth of who we are and then to share that truth with the world. This is the work of the soul that flirts with the essence of our being and our identity. The trick is to realize that true innocence must be earned each and every day, earned by not acquiescing, but choosing. Our society tempts us to conform through the promise of money, fame and power; it is a hard sell and calls us to hold tight to our word — the one thing my grandmother said could not be taken from you.
“Hope is a moral choice founded on a great cause beyond oneself,” said Camus. Steven is special, yet in over 40 years of teaching, most of my students have shown a similarly profound desire to forge identities animated by authentic concerns for the world. For decades I’ve witnessed students seeking to rise above cynicism to offer their talents to our collective well-being. This impulse is real and innate — I know this in my soul, and it gives me profound hope.
Barry Lopez wrote, “There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.” High school senior Morgan Karrow echoed this in her graduation speech from Colorado Rocky Mountain School three years ago: “Whether Sisyphus believed there’s rainbows or hellfire at the top of the mountain, he’s got to push now anyways. So, the prize for me is that I get to be alive right now; I get to push the boulder.”
Refusing to accept the unacceptable sounds complicated and exhausting. And it can be, for many of us may need to face where and how we are complicit in realities that break our hearts. But it is not a hopeless quest we begin. In fact, with every truth we uncover, our life will be more filled with energy and hope. And then perhaps one day, gradually, we too will be like Steven, Morgan and so many others — radically, beautifully contagious.