The Global Citizen is a joint project of New Voices and the American Jewish World Service (AJWS). Throughout the year, a group of former AJWS volunteers will offer their take on global justice, Judaism, and international development. Opinions expressed by Global Citizen bloggers do not necessarily represent AJWS.
It was a typical drizzling Oxford night. My roommate Andrea and I decided after a week of hard work, we were due for a night out on the town. After only a month in Great Britain, we still reveled in the newness of every experience, especially since “going out†doesn’t mean hitting up a campus frat party. Tonight, we would join our college mates at a student night at a local dance club.
In true chic British fashion, we paid the entry fee at The Bridge and took our coats to the coat check. I paid the one-pound coat check fee with a ten-pound bill and asked the attendant to put the change in my pocket, seeing as how I had awkwardly worn pants without pockets.
“Wow, Natalie,†Andrea said. “You sure do trust people.†Perhaps it was because my change equaled about fifteen U.S. dollars with the unforgiving exchange rate or that I trusted my money to a complete stranger, but I couldn’t help wondering for a split second if Andrea was right. Before I could ask for my change and shove it into my bra, she grabbed my hand and whisked me to the dance floor.
After a night of good English beer and some terrible Top 40 hits, we returned to the coat check. As we walked out of the club, I checked my pockets and looked over at Andrea. Empty. I spent the walk home grumbling to myself bitterly.
The next day, in traditional Oxford fashion, the rainy weather again called for warm coats. I put it on as I walked out of my room on the way to the library and heard change jingle. I shoved my hand in another pocket left unchecked the night before. Nine pounds, exactly where the coat check attendant had put it. I smiled to myself not because I found change in my coat but because I was relieved: maybe there is still some good left in humanity.
When we read about gruesome bombings in Baghdad and corrupt men like Madoff, in the newspaper on a daily basis, it’s easy to lose faith. Humanity is capable of terrible evil, but is immorality becoming a trend? What happened to trust and community?
This summer, I traveled to Uganda with the American Jewish World Service Volunteer Summer program. I will never forget the warmth with which we were welcomed—a community that suffers from extreme poverty, prevalence of HIV/AIDS, lack of sanitation, and adequate medical care, still welcomed a group of white, American students with open arms.
What disappointed me most about the incident of the missing change was not that I thought that someone had violated the unwritten code of human trust and “Good Samaritan-ship†but that I had been so quick to assume the worst. I am part of the problem—even in my thoughts and assumptions, I contributed to the cynicism that tarnishes society. We have to believe in good in order for the world to be good.
And it can start with even a little bit of change.
