The question came from across a table strewn with remnants of subpar college dining hall fare. It departed from its asker's mouth, marched with purposeful strides through piles of fries and attempts at salads, and settled in my lap like a mysterious gift.
"How are you going to change the world?"
Its arrival was unprepared for, though not entirely unexpected. My friend and I had long since finished the dinners we ate in each other's company thanks to chance encounter in our hallowed dining hall. Prior to the inquiry's appearance, we had been on the subject of North Korean politics. I suppose nothing that followed could break new ground in terms of absurdity.
So absurd it was not. But tricky, yes.
I believe the motivation behind its asking was two-pronged, stemming partly from curiosity, partly from a desire to challenge. A self-proclaimed hater of "stupid people," this friend basks in his cynicism even as he contradicts it constantly. Already well en route to a promising medical career, his future holds curing and caring at its core, for the members of humanity -- stupid and non-stupid alike -- towards whom he purports such distaste.
I stepped up to the plate, ready to defend my rose-colored worldview to its bright, sunny death. And I stumbled.
It's difficult to articulate a still-not-fully-fleshed-out plan that features such aspirations as helping others and improving the world without sounding excessively idealistic and terribly clichéd. I know I want those components in the equation, but in what capacity -- I'm still not certain.
Reflecting on the question later that night, a potential response came to me from the recesses of my memory, the thought of which made me smile. It was a middle school yearbook quote from a classmate whose picture fell adjacent to mine in the pages of graduating eighth graders.
"I'm just trying to change the world one sequin at a time."
The credit for that timeless wisdom belongs to none other than Lady Gaga. I recall scoffing at the frivolity of it, though I can't remember whatever lofty platitude I chose for myself, with the infinite maturity and intellectualism my thirteen-year-old self imagined herself possessing. Probably Gandhi or Ferris Bueller or something of that sort.
There are undoubtedly valuable truths to be found in the words of these oft-quoted notables. But knowing that "you must be the change you wish to see in the world" (thank you, Gandhi) does not help me much in answering my friend's question.
Perhaps Gaga's professed method of choice better provides the kind of response he seemed to be seeking -- concrete and blueprinted. Sequins bedazzle. They bring sparkle. A tangible change.
My concrete is not yet settled and my blueprints are still in the sketching stage. I don't know the specifics of what my sequins will be. I see the budding twinkle that emanates from those my companions are beginning to discover. I see the luminous brilliance diffused by those of my role models. I see the radiance that continues to beam from those of the departed -- the ones who brighten the world even after their earthly lives are through.
And, to my friend and anyone else who might be wondering, I'm working on how to contribute to the glow.