I might as well start at what's defined and underlined most of my life: Egypt. I immigrated to the United States when I was only three, so you wouldn't think that Egypt has had all too much to do with my life. On the contrary, it's been ingrained in everything I do. Growing up, my parents made sure that I didn't forget how to speak Arabic while I learned English in school. I remember I would ask them something in English and they would only reply when I said it again in Arabic. I would get annoyed, my younger self not then realizing they were teaching me to hold on to our culture. I didn't have any idea of everything my parents had left behind to provide my sister and me a better future. Once I got older and realized my Egyptian friends who grew up here had forgotten how to speak Arabic, I was extremely thankful to my parents for allowing me to grow up bilingual. I knew that my parents had chosen to move to America to provide me (and later my sister) a better life, but I never realized the extent of the privilege until we visited Egypt during the revolution. This was the second time Egypt had seen an uprising, the first to overthrow President Mubarak and this one to overthrow President Morsi.
It was eye-opening to see how much of normal life still takes place day-to-day in the midst of a revolution. It makes sense if you stop to think about it - people still need to eat, sleep, work if they can, etc. But experiencing it was so much different. The most eye-opening thing, however, was my conversations with my cousin Kiro. I remember we were sitting in a balcony overlooking the city when I asked him, "What is your dream?" "To leave Egypt, " he replied. "There's no future for me here. " I didn't reply. I didn't have a reply to be honest. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of guilt. Here I was, treating this whole experience like a fun vacation that will eventually end while for Kiro and my other cousins, this was life. And it was going to be like that for the unforeseeable future. I was able to leave - but they weren't. Why? I didn't do anything special to deserve it. It was pure luck that my parents got the visa to immigrate here. I just as easily could have grown up in Alexandria if fate had been slightly different. Kiro and the others didn't know what they were going to do when they graduated college. They didn't know if there would be the infrastructures in place to get jobs or if the price of food was going to inflate ridiculously. And all I had been thinking about was how cool it was to be in a revolution but how I wish the WiFi was faster. I wish I could say I came back to California with a completely different mindset, extremely aware of my privilege...but all that I had done was push the feeling of guilt to the back of my mind and thanked the Lord I had fast WiFi again.
I was extremely tempted to drop the lessons, but something made me stay. The end of the quarter rolled around and I painstakingly sang my judges to early deafness. But I did it and continued with Patrick, each jury becoming easier than the next. Eventually, I even began to look forward to them. I learned that once you face your fear, it soon melts into nothing and you look and wonder why you were even scared of it in the first place. I also found that my voice lessons didn't apply to just singing, but anything else that I needed to use my voice in. In conversations, in meetings, making announcements, yelling over a crowd - you name it, I said it. In this small way, it showed me that you really only can connect the dots looking backward, to paraphrase the late Steve Jobs. These seemingly insignificant voice lessons that I took just for fun turned about to be useful in other parts of my life. This has given me the confidence to pursue other seemingly unrelated things just for the sake of pure curiosity, trusting that at some point the skills I learn will intersect. So what does this all have to do with my experiences in Egypt and GSBF? Well, without the gratitude and perspective given to me from Egypt and without the lessons of confidence and curiosity I learned from voice lessons, I don't know if I would have had the courage to apply for GSBF. This fellowship isn't exactly the "traditional" route one should follow for my Information Systems major. I should be interning at Deloitte or something. But I realized that Deloitte isn't in my realm of interests right now - social entrepreneurship is. So I'm excited and nervous for what this fellowship will bring. I'm sure that just like my voice juries, my fear will melt into enjoyment.
GSBF is my introduction to how social entrepreneurship can give opportunities to everyone, not just the fortunate. Don't get me wrong, my extended family are by no means victims. They are all going to be successful in what they choose, I'm sure of it. But there is no arguing that the obstacles in their way are far more than the ones that have been placed in mine. I've been told that in order to do anything well, one must have a strong "why" to motivate them. This is mine. What's yours?
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AuthorBorn in Alexandria, Egypt, Beshoy moved to the United States with his family at the age of 3. He grew up in a small town in the East Bay, CA named Pleasanton. Currently, he attends Santa Clara University located in Hawaii. Just kidding it's in Santa Clara, CA. ArchivesCategories |