Day 4 January 20th
Because of a crazy but thankfully busy market week I have fallen behind on this gratitude blog project. But fear not, I am still grateful and I want to catch you up on what is making me smile.
2 sources of gratitude and/or inspiration (this is usually 3)
My grandfather citizenship papers— 2 years ago as a house warming gift, my aunt Mimi gave me my most prized possession: my grandfather Charlie’s (whom I am named) certificate of citizenship. My grandfather Charlie Friedman immigrated to the United States from Eastern Europe by way of Ellis Island around 1910. He was the 2nd youngest child and grew up on the Lower East Side of New York peddling glasses on the streets. At that time, the LES was the most densely populated area of the world. He moved to Cleveland where he stayed in the Cleveland Clinic, a charity hospital, for nearly a year. After making a recovery he had an opportunity to earn sweat equity in a general store in Clarksville, TX where he was the first Jewish person most of the people in the rural east Texas town had ever met. I even learned that he stood up to the intimidation of the KKK for giving a college scholarship to an African American employee.
I had never met my grandfather because he had pasted away before I was born, but my mom always speaks of him in the way one would describe George Washington or Abraham Lincoln— with mythical virtue the likes of which does not exist today.
When I leave the house every morning I see his immigration papers and it reminds me how much I have to be grateful for. I know that all that I can do and achieve is because I stand on the shoulders of giants, like him. I love how Cory Booker expresses this idea in his communicant speech at Stanford. It a humbling idea, but it makes me more determined to make my namesake proud.
The New York Times— I am a news junky and I scourer the front page of the nytimes on my phone. Oddly enough, a former member of the French Resistance unknowingly convinced me to read the news daily. I remember when I was in Europe studying World War II with the Normandy Scholars Program that our group met an elderly French woman who was caught smuggling classified information out of Viche France to British intelligence. After several successful missions, she was intercepted by the Nazis and spent the rest of the war in a POW camp. After her heartfelt story I had the chance to ask her why she risked her life to help the allied troops when she was only 18-years-old, instead of taking the easier route of apathy.
Her answer was surprising as it was simple. “I read the news.”
Sometimes world and national events seem too large for my day-to-day life. How often do you make a check list that reads: 1) put laundry into the dryer 2) buy milk and bread 3) close the achievement gap in the US schools 4) buy dish soap. To be honest, #3 doesn’t ever make it on the list. But that women in France made me think that if I read about the issues of our time, I can make a difference even if it is just in my tiny community—just by paying attention. So I always read the news, even if it’s not something I can directly impact because, as crazy as it sounds, I have this feeling that I will have my moment.
Intentional Act of Kindness: I helped a woman from New Jersey who has been struggling to understand the role of social media for marketing her store to her customers. We went over how to use hashtags on Instagram and how to build a facebook following on her new page through giveaways. It sounds silly, but she was really intimidated by these changes in her world.
charliesaginaw 