Steven Wu Moreau First Year Experience Professor Lassen April 28, 2022 Je me souviens – A Story and A Future Mission statements have a twofold nature. On one hand, they are supposed to guide us towards a better version of ourselves, or the “ought” inherent in us. On the other hand, they necessarily reflect some aspects of our lived experiences and the way they have already shaped us. The University’s mission statement explains that her Christian identity demands from her members “a willingness to enter into the conversation that gives it life and character” (“University of Notre Dame Mission Statement” – Moreau FYE Week Thirteen). Mine is no different. The past two years have been times of change and turbulence in my life, and I have made decisions that I still don’t know whether I will regret in five years’ time. These decisions manifest some of the objectives that I want to accomplish in life, but they themselves will also delineate the scope of my future endeavors. To remain faithful, and to encounter the world “As a Catholic Christian and an aspiring peacemaker, I strive to understand the world as it appears to individuals with varying perspectives and upbringings,” so begins the most recent rendition of my mission statement. Notre Dame, a place that I have loved and still love, has had a major influence on the development of my faith. 1453 days before I started this assignment, I was received into the Catholic Church at St. Brigid’s Church in Peapack, New Jersey. Two months later, I was sitting in Fisher Hall, marveling at the beautiful scenery around me and the atmosphere of a secluded yet tight-knit campus. My experience at Summer Scholars further confirmed that an authentic Catholic community is what I long for, and thus began my long journey towards this goal. I have long imagined, and people around me likewise, that I would become a professor, either in theology or some related subject. I planned out the basic roadmap of my career: coming to Notre Dame, going to graduate school, and applying for a position. But for a few hiccups on the way, that path began quite well, as I was eventually admitted to my dream school and ready to start. Apparently, God had other plans for me, and I was forced to take a gap year during COVID. Indeed, “planning [a] career is much like planning for a trip… it’s not a one-step process” (“Navigating Your Career Journey” by Meruelo Family Center – Moreau FYE Week Four). I had a lot to learn and to challenge myself than accept a straight path as the one I should take. That year became an inflection point in my dreams. During my gap year, I discovered that my multicultural and international experience gave me a restless character. I was constantly looking for new connections and encounters. That was what I experienced as I traveled around China, exploring the profound religious history across the country. Through networking and “explor[ing] … ways of living” (“Irish Compass Activity” – Moreau FYE Week Five), I was told that I had a particular charism not necessarily in teaching, but in making connections and helping to craft solutions. I realized that my aspiration was not solely to remain in a community but to take what I received there and spread it out into the world, all the while remaining loyal to my identity as a Catholic. That, coupled with my other academic interests, led me to a new path of integrating the political science and theological facets of global issues. I hope that I can contribute to building a community where “all of the burning issues that affect the Church and the world today are plumbed to their depths in an atmosphere of faith” (“Hesburgh” by Jerry Barca and Christine O’Malley – Moreau FYE Week Two). To become a bridge stepped on by others Having lived in a variety of cultures and personally experienced clashes of ideologies and religious beliefs in my home, I understand that dialogue is a necessary first step to conversation. “Let[ting] go of our… certitude” (“Why It’s So Hard to Talk to White People About Racism” by Robin DiAngelo – Moreau FYE Week Ten), racial or otherwise, is an inherently discomforting experience for many and all too many good occasions slip away between our fingers because of that discomfort. That is why I strive to start those difficult conversations and, as referenced by the newly ordained Bishop of Hong Kong, “a bridge cannot be except when it has been stepped on by others.” I see my unique story as both a privilege and a call to action, for our “bubble[s]” can often quietly turn into “echo chamber[s]” (“How to Avoid an Echo Chamber” by Paul Blaschko – Moreau FYE Week Eleven). There needs be that “outsider” willing to challenge presumptions and show people that there are alternatives to stereotypes and biases. “The future of humankind isn’t exclusively in the hands of politicians, of great leaders… but… most of all, in the hands of those people who will recognize the other as a ‘you’” (“Why the Only Future Worth Building Includes Everyone” by Pope Francis – Moreau FYE Week Seven). This also means that sometimes we will need to let those whom we “come to serve…take care of us” and not fear that “flipped equation” (“Teaching Accompaniment” by Steve Reifenberg – Moreau FYE Week Nine). For example, my roommate has taught me valuable lessons above myself that I would not have otherwise learned, even though we were on the verge of fighting during the last semester. This tiny bit of “peacemaking” has brought lasting memories to both of us. In truth, I do not see myself as a peacemaker in the sense that I will go places and solve people’s problems. Instead, a bridge is stepped on by others and allows the two sides to come to a much agreement. No matter how deep the hatred is in many places, including Lebanon where I will spend a month this summer, “each one of us can choose to finally end hate, by ending this separation” (“I am George Floyd” by Marcus Cole – Moreau FYE Week Twelve). To overcome the obsession and anxiety over my identity, and to bring that confidence to others The last part of my mission statement is, in fact, an ongoing struggle. You may be surprised to learn that I have put about 6000 miles on my new car during the semester as I was forced to commute from Canada every weekend (and I still survived).1 “Where is home for you?,” asks the customs officer at the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel every time I pass. It is a harmless 1 That is to accrue additional days so I would not be forced to remain in Canada for two straight years after I leave. Every time I pass by the Oratory in Montreal and see the Holy Cross-run secondary school, my mind is brought to the fact that Fr. Sorin chose to found the University in Indiana out of all places. and straightforward question for most people, whereas it has been heart-wrenching for me. I have not found a welcoming home, in a holistic sense, in any country that I have lived in, including my native China. Unlike my parents, I had neither a strong attachment to my city nor the ability, considering my interests, to remain there for life. Immigration concerns have forced me to, above all else, leave Notre Dame, my home now and forever, and settle down in yet another country. As a polyglot, I have learned to understand multiple languages at just about the same rate I lose active vocabulary in each and every one of them. I have noticed that I have to search for words and stumble when speaking Chinese a lot more than I used to, without acquiring a higher fluency in English. To many people, having that skill is something positive to put on a résumé. For me, it has been a great source of anxiety that I would never belong anywhere. As Eurich correctly points out, self-reflection could also cause someone to be more “stressed, depressed, or anxious” (“The Right Way to be Introspective” by Tasha Eurich – Moreau FYE Week Six). Sometimes hours of reflecting reveal that I need to constantly hide behind the curtain and dodge that question of where home is, and make up a different identity in every place that I may live in the days to come. They plunge me into a darker downward spiral. However, there is hope amidst darkness that should propel us into action. None of us belong perfectly to any place. St. Thérèse of Lisieux famously said that “the world is thy ship and not thy home.” This past year, my pastor who confirmed me into the Church was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and unless the Lord intervenes he might not be long for this world. But I see him there at Church, preaching passionately on live-streamed Mass every single weekend. That is not something I can yet see myself accomplishing right now. But I look up to him and pray for strength to see the worth of my mission regardless of circumstances. During this past Holy Week, I spent time “unclogging [my] mind” through meditation (“Why We Need to Slow Down Our Lives” by Pico Iyer – Moreau FYE Week One). Yes, “my life is going to end, and I have a limited amount of time” (“Meet the Nun” by Ruth Graham – Moreau FYE Week Three). As I continue to tread on this path of life, I would like my life to be remembered not in terms of the amount of graces I might have received, but by the way I responded to those that I did receive. I shared this with my friend in Lewis Hall who is a catechumen but has to delay baptism due to academic reasons, and to my surprise, my short reflection brought some needed comfort to her. This is my mission statement, and, God willing, my eulogy (“Write Your Own Eulogy” – Moreau FYE Week Eight).