When people ask me if I have any advice or experience for young adults, I think about where I was and what I didn’t know at the end of high school.
In high school, I was in my own world. I had a very difficult experience at a school where the academics were stellar and the bullying was vicious. I’m lucky to have made it out alive, I think some days. It doesn’t matter if others want to gaslight what I went through; it was both fantastic and horrific.
But the most helpful thing I learned, even more than college-level research, came the day before I graduated.
An hour before I got my diploma, my senior advisor urged me to not worry about affiliating myself with “that person, or that person.”
I was willing to try something different in college. But the message I heard, however unknowingly, was, don’t try to be popular or well-liked; it was far more important for me to be useful to as many people as possible.
It proved to be the most important advice for my college experience.
The day before that, I had come home and broken down crying because I had not made one real friend in my four years of high school. I’m autistic and gay, and I’ve struggled with mental illness, so whatever my expectations should or shouldn’t have been, I was deeply hurt.
But there were teachers who looked out for me, and first on the list was this advisor. An unfailingly dedicated teacher as well, she knew I tried exceptionally hard to make friends, however much I failed.
When I came into the building on the day of graduation, I went to talk with her in her office. I remember feeling like a failure. She may have sounded agitated, but after our conversation, I left her office smiling, not only ready to graduate and move on—which was already true–but ready to make my new home at college.
I walked onto the graduation stage beaming and left the same.
When I got to college out-of-state two months later, I made a concerted effort to reach out to everyone and to not treat others the way I had been treated. I went to a small liberal arts school that was exactly the kind of environment I needed.
I quickly got to know many people from different clubs, majors, cliques, nationalities, and racial groups. I greeted many people in a friendly and sincere way, and I also got involved at the student newspaper and other activities. I didn’t drink or do drugs my entire time at college, and looking back, I’m amazed I was so appreciated given that I didn’t want to participate in the party scene.
But after four years, I wondered if my group of friends would collapse because I was part of different groups who hated each other; I worried they would make me take sides with certain people. That all got dispelled on my graduation day.
The feeling the day I walked at my college graduation would have been impossible to fathom at any previous point in my life. I’ll never forget walking onto that stage and pausing, shocked because I started seeing a group of people vociferously standing up and cheering for me. I was so touched, and as I stopped in place, I started seeing the whole crowd—hundreds of people—standing up, too. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Granted, having trouble reading people’s nonverbal impressions of me as an autistic person, I never could have seen a standing ovation for my work on campus coming.
I had not just succeeded at getting to know many people and making a huge impact. I had realized my high school advisor’s advice: I had worked to be useful to many people, including some who felt unappreciated, and in the process, I went from no friends at the end of high school to hundreds after four years of college.
My smile that day on that stage was unlike any smile I’ve ever had. I didn’t know I had made that kind of impact until that moment, but going from feeling like a failure to that level of deep acceptance and love was something I’ll never get over.
I’ll never forget that advisor and the impact her words made on my life. When I saw her a month later and told her about that standing ovation, she was overjoyed for me. Her words, and my dream, came true.
So, when I think about what to say to young people, I think about service and usefulness to others. It’s important to cultivate happiness, of course, but service to others is critical—and can contribute to happiness.
I didn’t know that when I was in high school. Some students got involved with community service, and come to think of it, I did some service work on yearbook and other activities. But genuinely taking an interest in others and working to make their days a little brighter? That’s not something I knew how to do. I don’t fault myself for that; it’s where I was. But when I got to college, working to be useful to others made a huge difference in my life.
But service isn’t just good for one’s social life and self-esteem; it can help others, too. In the last decade, I’ve gotten into different forms of recovery. My idea of service is both formal and informal, taking positions to help meetings, and by now, I have heard many people tell me that I’ve helped them by letting them know they’re not alone when they first came to such recovery.
And service can take many forms, including at work–just doing your best to further a common goal can be service, too. So, what I learned, however inadvertently, from that advisor was to do my best to be useful to others–to give as its own reward.
As suspicious as I am of the idea that service can save the world, it certainly can help the world. One thing I’ve learned, though, that might seem hypocritical here is to share my experience instead of giving advice. I try not to give unsolicited advice–again, ahem, I’m writing a blog with advice–but service has helped change my life.
Just two days ago, I went to the graduation ceremony for that high school. I was nervous about seeing some people, but I can’t tell you how healing it was to see teachers, administrators, and others who remembered me, including some whom I didn’t get along with then. Even with all my hard times there, I just can’t forget the dedication of those faculty and staff, as well as the leadership of fellow students. I am grateful every day that I’ve had such incredible people in my life, some of whom fought for me when I worried that nobody cared.
I met a new graduate, Alec Wilson, who created an organization called Beneath the Grief to help people process grief through art, and I plan to get involved by submitting writing and music. Starting such an organization is tremendous service, and I’m grateful for people in younger generations that are facilitating such needed work.
Come to think of it, working as a writing tutor at two different colleges, I am doing needed service as well, but I don’t want to get comfortable thinking that my work always makes a positive difference. Service to me means being open for growth. I’ve written that I’m never satisfied with my actions–I always hunger for growth and the pursuit of greater work to the point where I can take my progress for granted.
But with my service work in different areas of my life, I look back on teachers like my advisor and think, to paraphrase one of my favorite country songs, that I hope I’m at least half the devoted and dedicated educator that they didn’t have to be.
I’m very lucky.
—
Previously Published on substack and is republished on Medium.
—
Photo credit: iStock