Kristof Essay

Two years ago, Nicholas Kristof opened up a yearly opportunity for a student to go on a reporting trip with him to the developing world. Now that I am a student and therefore eligible, I decided to put my name in the running. I had to write a 700-word essay about why I would like to go on this trip.

I don't expect to win, of course (realistic expectations). But the self-inflicted grueling process of writing a 700-word essay was a good exercise in communicating why I'm here in Washington and doing what I'm doing. I'll be the first to admit that in the company of type A personalities who are driven by worldly ambitions, it's really hard to keep my intentions pure and holy. I catch myself chasing after the dreams of being significant and doing all these glorious things for myself rather than building the kingdom of God. This exercise helped ground me to some degree. I've decided to post it online to share with you. I went through nine drafts before I finally (primarily because I ran out of time) submitted this one to the New York Times. I'm not perfectly pleased with it (since when I am ever?), but it's good enough. Enjoy.

I’m usually not a talkative person, but I love telling stories. Whether in short prose, blogs, or other avenues, I want to tell stories that I find interesting. My creative writing professor taught me a lesson I’ll never forget: “Find your own voice. And find your own story to write.” With the help of The Times, I wish to tell more stories in my own voice—stories of struggle and triumph, stories of injustice and hope, stories to awaken the souls of the world to the cries of the voiceless. And more than my desires to tell a good story, it is my conviction to help others that fuels me to seek this opportunity.

This conviction to help those most in need took root during my last semester in college. Prior to then, I had been your run-of-the-mill, self-absorbed teenager who could care less about human suffering. But it was largely the writings of Nicholas Kristof that brought me out of my bubble and into a world where systematic injustice existed, even though I had lived through my share of economic inequality, racism, and xenophobia. Being immigrants, my parents worked more than twelve-hour shifts in laundromats and grocery stores to barely make ends meet. Growing up unable to speak English, I was spat upon and made fun of countless times in school. My own teachers called me by racial slurs. I thought I knew all there was about injustice—until I realized that I would never be sold into brothels like the women whom Mr. Kristof had interviewed for his articles dealing with sex-trafficking in Cambodia. It was then that the words of Edmund Burke echoed in my head: “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

I soon found myself on a plane to Cambodia, partnering with an organization to provide a means of livelihood to people whose own government labeled a lost cause. Many of them were stricken with leprosy and/or other diseases, and they were thrown out of society to fend for themselves. Even worse, their children rummaged through garbage to find food to eat and things to sell. As I watched in horror, I could no longer justify my indifference. I needed to do something.

The organization I worked with had built a school to provide free education for children in the area. I volunteered to teach and give them a childhood that I believed they deserved. Our team introduced them to games that we had grown up with—four corners, tag, jump-rope, and the likes. We wanted to enable their dreams and provide a safe environment, away from traffickers that were always lurching in the villages.

Three weeks later, I came back to America changed. I can’t completely say that I was no longer entirely self-absorbed and indifferent, but I wanted to find meaningful ways to get involved in making this world a better place.

Today, I am a graduate student studying international politics as it relates to injustices faced by children, the most vulnerable elements of society. Children actively fight grown men’s wars, labor in atrocious sweat-shops, and service tourists in brothels. More often than not, their plight has largely gone ignored and their stories have reached deaf ears. They are victims of the truest sense of the word, and I can no longer stand idle as they are taken advantage of.

I am no journalist. I am a student with a drive to keep learning. I am a political scientist who loves to capture stories. I am a human being who wants to make a difference. And I am not perfect. I am sure there are many others who are more qualified than I am. But what I lack in experience and ability, I bring relentless passion, deep-rooted conviction, and steadfast devotion. My out-of-the-box thinking, communication skills, and technical experiences, including photography and videography, will be an asset to your team. But most importantly, this trip will give me a unique experience of translating my interests in politics, writing, and humanitarian work into a lifelong commitment to combating injustice in the developing world as well as a medium to mobilize others to do the same.