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Beyond the Gold

This is the best story out of the Winter Olympics so far.

Every two years, for two weeks, the world watches as elite athletes give it their all on the biggest stage of sport. Competing in events we all know and events we’ve never heard of, these individuals and teams lay it on the line in hopes of bringing back to their countries memories and medals.

And then there’s Joey Cheek. Here’s the guy who at 16 moved from North Carolina to Canada because he wanted to be a world-class speed skater after seeing it on TV in 1994. This is the guy who trained and trained, came back from a fall in Salt Lake, and won gold yesterday in Italy. And, this is the guy who donated his winnings to help displaced children in Darfur.

American athletes receive $25,000 from the US Olympic Committee for winning a gold medal. Most keep the money; after all, being an amateur athlete usually doesn’t pay the bills. However, last night, before answering questions about his dominating performance, Joey announced that his winnings, all of it, would go to his idol’s (Johann Olav Koss) charity, Right to Play. The money is earmarked to go specifically to Darfur.

This is remarkable for many reasons. For one, Joey hopes to begin college this fall somewhere in the Ivy League, and this money sure could help pay tuition and other expenses. Or, were he to forego college and start life away from the oval, the money could form a great foundation for his next endeavor. But, for Joey, following his hero’s footsteps into the sport also meant following his footsteps out of it, giving away his winnings to benefit those who need it the most.

The Olympics inspire me for this reason. The performances on the snow or the ice are merely the decoration. The true substance of the epic sporting event is the backstories. Like an episode of Lost, every participant has a story filled with courage, charity, sacrifice or pain. Many overcome unthinkable obstacles to arrive in Torino and take their turn with destiny. Let us remember to look past the podium and into the hearts of these athletes. If we do, we’ll see winners in more ways than gold.

Dream Seeds

I wrote the following essay for a Vanity Fair essay contest entitled, "What is on the minds of today's youth?" This essay will serve as background for tomorrow's post.

A young black man sits across the table from me. He is fifteen years old, and wears a loud, untucked, striped shirt, faded jeans, and the latest sneakers. As we begin to talk, there is something refreshingly different about him. He tells me that everyone at his school wants to be a basketball player or a rapper when they grow up. He is clearly in the minority – not in terms of race, but in terms of dreams: he wants to be Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. He encourages others to have backup plans to their sports or music dreams, but he only receives laughs in return.

Young people like this are indeed rare – idealistic youth leftover from an era of Vietnam protests, abolitionist papers, and revolutionary minutemen. The art/life debate about what imitates what is irrelevant when it comes to finding what is at the core of today’s youth. Whether MTV reflects a reality of party-crazed teens, or whether today’s teenagers want the latest fashions and CD’s because that is what magazines and commercials sell, is a worthwhile argument, but it will not reveal the dreams that lie deep within each teenager. Yet because of the mainstream portrayal of youth activity, it is harder and harder to get at the core of what today’s teenagers are longing for – what they crave, what they need, and what they feel. But these true notions do exist deep down inside, where only the brave dare to venture. At the core of every youth is a dream seed.

Perhaps they’re born with it. For some, the blossoming of these dreams is easier than others. Some have their seed neglected, and it dries out and dies before they reach middle school. Some have their dream snuffed by a callous adult who tells them they’re not good enough, not smart enough, and will accomplish very little in their lifetime. But inside every teenager is a dream that is aching to get out and blossom.

At their core, youth want the same things adults want. They want to be taken care of. They want everything to be all right. They want security and protection. They want assurance. They want status and power. But there is a fine line that separates adult minds from youth minds. That line is not a college degree or practical experience, but rather the belief that one person really can make a difference.

You and I believed this at one time. Back when our dream seed was just blossoming, and a memorable coach or a supporting parent helped us to see that seed’s true potential, we thought we were the ones who would make a difference. When we rallied against ‘the man’ and fought ‘the system,’ we thought we were shaking foundations and rewriting history. But then something happened. After college, we got jobs and began to chase promotions. We fell in love and got married, and then fell in love again when we had children. Priorities didn’t get misplaced; they just got replaced, and our focus turned to new areas, like caring for our kids and keeping our marriage strong. We began to worry about whether or not we had enough insurance, if our portfolio was properly diversified, and if the milk in the refrigerator at home was expired. And while we were worrying about these things, younger people were once again sticking it to ‘the man’ and overthrowing ‘the system.’ We knew they would become us. But maybe when we were older we would look at our dream seeds again, hoping to revive them with the water and food they had long been deprived of during our years of living.

But youth today (and perhaps in every generation) believe that one person, singularly motivated and steadfastly determined, can force the world off its current axis and cause it to spin in a new direction. They think that people are good at their core and want to do things like recycle, sign petitions, donate money, and vote their heart. They are willing to work tirelessly to convince their friends that smoking is bad, underage drinking is dangerous, and backup plans are necessary.

If we are willing to get past the debate of whether Abercrombie and Britney are causes or effects, and look to the fertile soil present in each youth, we will see the dream seed that was once in each of us. It is taking root and needs fuel. The diets offered by MTV and most teen magazines offer a false sense of what is required to turn these seeds into trees under which future generations can one day sit and dream again. It is up to us, the former revolutionaries, to cultivate and bring life to these seeds inside every young person, the new revolutionaries.

The scary truth is that American Idol does more to support youth dreaming than our schools, churches, synagogues, or families. Shows and programs like this let youth know they have an audience, a listening ear, and a caring friend. Filling the void of supporting coaches and caring mentors is the advertising industry, selling an unhealthy dose of optimism that requires little hard work and instant rewards. Therefore, dream seeds quickly become dream weeds, springing up in the void of proper nourishment and care.

While it is easy to write off the youth of this millennium as lazy and undedicated compared to the youth who fought against slavery, for the female vote, and in opposition to foreign wars, it is much more difficult to nourish today’s dreams. We shout noble causes from rooftops like unedited op-ed columnists: racial reconciliation, the need for renewable energy, welfare reform, universal healthcare. But the volunteer list quickly runs dry when teachers and mentors are needed to show those who will come after us how they can cause the revolution we merely give lip service to. As my colleague Stephen Moseley says, “The returns in investing in youth work are never immediate. The reward is simply in being a part.”

Badmouthing Spring Break footage or sighing over headlines of teenage automobile accidents is simple because we’re removed from the situation. Getting in the trenches with youth to help till the soil, correctly plant their seed, and stay through the harvest is harder because it demands we be there to see the struggles and the failures, the letdowns and the regrets. And maybe it’s nearly impossible because we know that if we were to do this, we would see the dream seed come alive and we would be ashamed that we let ours die when corporate America and the Joneses came calling.

A quick survey of teenagers will give you a list as diverse as they are when it comes to what is on their minds: drugs, peer pressure, grades, sex, college, Playstation, sports, family, alcohol, friends, fitting in, career, image, popularity, violence, the future. I’ll admit the notion of a dream seed can seem overly naïve and optimistic, like a bygone poet from 1985 hoping no one would be sent to Vietnam. In other words, maybe I’ve missed it. Maybe today’s youth have it too easy. Maybe they do care only about music, sex, and image. But if I am wrong, I’ve got nothing to lose.

And if I’m right, and if today’s youthful minds have their dream seeds in full view and are desperately crying for a place to plant it; if I’m right but we go on writing them off as irresponsible sex-induced hormone factories; if I’m right but we think they’ll sell out eventually like we did, realizing that ‘the man’ and ‘the system’ can work to our advantage; if I’m right but we think the battles of tomorrow cannot be fought by youth, then we all have everything to lose. That’s the thing about a dream seed – you never know just how big it can grow until it’s planted.

A Letter to NBC’s Matt Lauer

November 15, 2005

Mr. Matt Lauer
NBC, “Today”
30 Rockefeller Plaza
New York, NY 10112

Dear Mr. Lauer-

Thank you for taking the viewing public along on your recent whirlwind tour around the world. The “Where in the World is Matt Lauer?” segment on “Today” was no doubt popular and especially insightful for those who are not able to travel to the far corners of the globe.

I’ve been to a few interesting spots myself, but you went to cities and countries that clearly highlight the growing diversity of this complicated and beautiful planet. Dubrovnik, Croatia, Shanghai, China, Innsbruck, Austria, The Panama Canal, and Easter Island read like an Olympic lineup and not like a week’s itinerary. I’m sure you know how fortunate you are to have access to NBC’s budget and aircraft.

While I appreciate your travels and the video blog to accompany them, I am dismayed that you continue to highlight places of wealth and excess. You no doubt have a choice where you will spend this magical week every year, and I understand that these locations are chosen based on a variety of factors, such as travel logistics, access, and market value. However, I would hope and encourage you to consider traveling next year to places of extreme poverty, unfortunate disease, and horrific violence. I feel that if you used your week to show Americans the work that needs to be done around the world, instead of the resorts most of us can never afford to visit, perhaps some real solutions to earth’s worst problems can be found.

A sample itinerary could be as follows:
- Monday in tragically-malnourished Haiti
- Tuesday in genocide-ridden Darfur, Sudan
- Wednesday in still-rebuilding Bam, Iran
- Thursday in brothel-dependent Moldova
- Friday in the tsunami-cleared land of Sri Lanka

A simple visit and a hard day’s work will not fix or end any of the above crises. But exposing couch potato Americans to the realities of the third world may get some of us motivated. Please help a generation of us see that American media is about more than covering celebrity gossip and fad diets. Help us to get the news that we need, not the news that sells. Travel, visit, and tell the stories that need telling, Mr. Lauer. Millions are waiting.

Sincerely,

Sam Davidson

*This letter was mailed today. If I get a response, I will post it here.*

Kyle Lake

Kyle’s is a story that needs telling. Lynnette knew him better than I, but I knew him enough that it hurt when I heard he died. It was though the crying voice of a friend in Texas. She had been there that morning watching the baptism, worshiping and loving in the context of community, two things Kyle Lake no doubt made her better at.

As Ann wrote, “The laws of nature intersected with humanity, and humanity lost.” Kyle’s life and story are already being told across the world. A Google search Sunday night around 10 PM showed only three news stories, but about 300 blog entries. Like all good men, his legacy will outlive him. His books will tell of his theology, his friends will tell of his greatness, and his wife and children will tell of his love.

Lives are tragically cut short nearly every day. Children, teenagers, and adults in the prime of life die when some least expect it. It is tragic because the great mass of potential they all represent is never actualized. The proper release of kinetic energy never happens, and we are all left bloated with hope and dreams. We think about what could and should have been, about what now will never be, and how we might never get on with our lives. Mourning often paralyzes.

The suddenness of the accident has me personally shaken. I worry about airplanes, certain neighborhoods after dark, and eating too fast. But I forget to worry about taking showers, jogging, and going to the supermarket. The randomness of the accident has me wondering if there can be a God who orders all things. Surely a God who has his or her house in order could see the series of steps that led to Kyle’s death. But a God of order is simply one that I like because it is a God that I have figured out. Behold the random mystery of God, who is bigger than our fears, our stereotypes, our theology, and our daytimers.

It is up to us, the living, to tell the stories of those who have gone before us. Sometimes, the deaths of legacies are more tragic than the deaths of those who left them. May we daily tell Kyle’s story as many are telling through their typing tonight. May we tell Kyle’s story through the life we live and the difference we make. May we not wear cement shoes because fear and doubt dare us not to move. May we live life not without regrets, but with big dreams that we are willing to chase down. Kyle’s story will be told as we look into the eyes of humanity and make our mark.