I am a white 17-year-old male of an upper middle class family in the northeastern part of Kansas. I haven’t battled with drug addiction, suffered from child abuse or experienced any life changing events that give me a sense of greater wisdom. I am the stats quos, the guy who soon blends into the masses, who is seemingly insignificant, and dreadfully normal.
It is not unlikely to see me soon in a cheap suit, driving in an economy class car to and from a little blue ranch home in suburbia. In between the pets the kids and the wife I know the house will be cramped, it will be loud, and at many times dirty. Yet, this is what is what I believe: the normal, the average and mediocre. Because I believe in that in the bland landscape of Kansas with the worries of car payments, a mortgage and getting to children soccer games on time I will find happiness. It may not be the life of a movie star, billionaire or hit man, but I bet you it will be far more fulfilling.
It is not necessarily that I want a boring, never changing life, but that I am not afraid of one. I am not afraid of an ordinary life that will soon be forgotten, and left out of history. I am not afraid of when the only thing left of me is a name on the family tree and faded photographs. Because I believe the greatest, kindest and loving people that have ever lived in the world are the ones you’ve never heard of: the normal, everyday, humble ones.
When I said I might like to become a teacher or a pastor, my dad told me that even though those fields would not necessarily be successful, they would still be rewarding. I found this ironic, for in the long run, at the ends of our lives, if we were put on a scale about the difference we made in the world with one being how much money we made, cars we drove, and assets we collected and the other the acts we committed, the families we raised and the difference we made in our community I’m pretty sure I know which one would be weighed as truly be successful.
I believe that in a common, normal life great things can be achieved, that through the ordinary you can always find extraordinary and that no one can ever truly be forgotten. All of this I believe, because I believe in normal.
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