Keely McGlone Father Kevin Moreau First Year Experience 15 October 2021 The Lens of Belief “What do I believe?” is arguably the most important question we can ask ourselves in an intellectual society. The question challenges us to reach beyond our surface-level selves and makes us truly consider why we are who we are and how we have gotten there. The beauty of beliefs is that no two peoples can be the same because everyone possesses unshared experiences. Our beliefs are formed based off these experiences that are unparalleled and create much of the intangible diversity in our society. Here are several of my core beliefs about myself, my community, and those around me that have been formed by my life thus far, and consequently, here is me: I believe that I am responsible for identifying aspects of my past that have made me afraid to be myself. Vulnerability is key to authenticity, but not everyone has the background and capacity to accept vulnerability, my dad and I being two examples. I never connected the idea that vulnerability is needed to be authentic until discussing “The Power of Vulnerability” by Brené Brown and her idea that those who are wholehearted must first be authentic and vulnerable. The relationship I have with my dad has provided me this realization and has made vulnerability hard to accept. My dad is an intricate and marvelous person who I am very close with, yet I don’t think I know his authentic self because of his lack of vulnerability. I feel as though the only people who might know him are my mom and his dad, and I desire to know him that deeply one day. I don’t think he has the capacity for that vulnerability in some relationships because of his mother’s passing at a young age that led him to be self-reliant. Until this is addressed, he won’t have the capacity accept vulnerability. More alarmingly, his lack of display of vulnerability has shielded me from publicizing that emotion and normalized my hatred towards vulnerability. It needs to be publicized to be authentic, yet it is hard mountain to climb and is one I need to take responsibility of. I believe that I am working on ridding myself of the expectations our society places on prioritizing work over well-being. David Brooks in “Should you Live for your Resumé or your Eulogy?” communicates the need to balance Adam I and Adam II in our lives—the side of external success versus the side of internal relationships and values. To this, I am reminded of my mom, inarguably the best human I will ever meet in my lifetime. My mom is one of the hardest worker’s I know and it’s inspiring, but her desire and expectation more so to work tirelessly has always come at the expense of her emotional and physical well-being. I wish she recognized the beauty that lies in herself and the amazing life she has provided my family rather than the temporary beauty that lies in her corporate work. No one can blame her for the height of the standards her job is held at because it is the structure of the society we live in and it’s too daunting for her to solely defy it. When I look back on my time in high school, sometimes I regret the time I spent focusing on resumé builders and wish I had done more to fulfill the soul of my community. I don’t want to experience this regret when I look back at my time as a Notre Dame student. I believe that I misunderstood religion for far too long and ignored its potential. Father Pete in “The Role of Faith in Our Story” reminds us: “Jesus focused on reminding us of the life we are called to… a life that requires courage, a willingness to shed the comforts of this world and above all else, to love those who are most in need. Let us never forget that we live in a world that is hungry, thirsty, without shelter, ill, and imprisoned.” I would never claim that I’m the most religious person, maybe that’s because I am afraid of vulnerability in accordance with religion or maybe that’s because I have never felt a space where it was normal and welcomed to discuss. In my childhood, I was a member of organized religion, but my participation was shamefully low. I saw religion as an obligation and as a set of restrictions that determined self-worth and value, and that’s a universal misconception. Religion in any form is a vessel for kindness, love, and service at its core, and truly makes a camaraderie of a community. I believe that I pursue truth by fighting for things that others walk easily away from. “Healthy Vs. Unhealthy Relationships” by the Red Flag campaign lays out signs that a relationship is unhealthy and that it is time to let go. Among these is someone who bails frequently, doesn’t listen, and talks behind backs. What this article fails to acknowledge is the situation created when a previously healthy relationship becomes unhealthy due to outside factors. Any relationship that is not life-giving is emotionally detrimental, but I believe sometimes these relationships are worth fighting for. When my best friend went through months of deep depression, she often cancelled plans and didn’t have the mental to capacity to support me. She has impacted my life in a monumental way, but in her times of struggle I often observed a one- sided relationship that outsiders would denote unhealthy. Emotionally, this was a scarring experience; I felt unsupported and unfulfilled without her advice and friendship, but the decision to fight for this relationship and prioritize her when she needed it most was one of the best decisions I could’ve made. I would not be who I am without her. When there was an absence of a life-giving relationship on my part and needed her to return the favor, she was there. Where other people would’ve given up because of the nature of the relationship, I fought in knowledge that there was a reward. I believe that I am still searching for the worthiness of sacrifice. Sacrifice is necessary for personal development, but the caveat is the worthiness of that sacrifice cannot be measured in present times. Every sacrifice I have ever made has been made in great doubt and fear. In general, college is a hard transition. Being away from home, family, the familiar, etc. is something that dissipates the idea of childhood and is difficult to accept. I find myself asking how much worth lies in being twelve hours away from my family at a school that is academically demanding in ways I have never experienced before. The worthiness of this are my best educated guesses, just like Father Sorin did when he founded Notre Dame. Father Sorin had no way of envisioning the beauty and power of present-day Notre Dame, and I have no way of envisioning the beauty and power of my future because of my time here. Stories like his ground me on my search and remind me that it is okay to doubt sacrifice if there is some sapling of hope. I believe that I am afraid to admit where I truly come from, but that it’s not a story I need to explain meticulously because it is mine. This ties in with my hesitations to be vulnerable. I write that I’m from row boats and muddy dogs, from fallen pine branches and spiced pecans. I hesitated to take this poem deeper because I am afraid to verbalize the true aspects of my past that have truly made me the way I am. I followed George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From” format exactly because I was afraid of venturing into what would happen if I did it authentically. While she wrote about being from fudge and eyeglasses, I wrote about ice cream in a bag and a singing Christmas tree. The beauty of it, though, is that I know all these random things tie to the real story of where I’m from, one that can be shared in any way and at any time I see fit. Lastly, I believe that our community needs to promote inclusivity and discomfort to provide an opportunity to dismantle social misjustice. “How to Think about ‘Implicit Biases’” by the Scientific American sheds light onto the inevitable presence of implicit biases in our lives and how they’re not necessarily bad but have the potential to worsen into more severe issues. It is nearly impossible to eliminate implicit biases from our society, but it is possible to rationalize them, improve them, and create an environment that is welcoming to any person of any origin or identification. If people remain comfortable with certain implicit biases we “naturally” have, the only way to convince them is to provide them with evidence. This evidence can only be provided if a person is willing to be uncomfortable and test their norms. We as a community need to prioritize practices like these in all levels and types of organizations to make a difference. I believe this mostly because of my best friend who has struggled immensely with being accepted in society because of her race, but I also believe this because no one should have to feel marginalized by society. We can’t blame ourselves for the society we were born into, but we can do everything in our power to make it better for those who follow.