Essay by Danny Ross, Greenwich High School, Grade 11

[Note: This is not the article where you should vote for this contestant. This is essayist No. 1, so in the voting article, which is here, just post a comment that says ‘1' to vote for this student. Voting is limited to one person per finalist per day, and closes at 8 p.m. on May 13. The finalist essay follows.]

Community service has always been a rite of passage, an obstacle in the continuous race our high school experience confronts us with. Whether it is applying to college or perhaps National Honors Society, from the moment we set foot in the building to the moment we graduate, the omnipresent “task” as many students deem it hangs in the background of our ongoing extracurricular activities and academic studies. I like many other students saw this as psychologist Lawrence Kohlberg would say, an opportunity to fulfill the conventional norms set by colleges and schools. Recently however, I experienced a phenomenon while volunteering comparable to no other, which not only changed how I define community service, but also how strong of an impact I believe I can have on my community.

Volunteer work at Greenwich Library isn’t thrilling to say the least; as I am a tech “expert” devoted to helping patrons every week on Thursdays. The workload generally isn’t strenuous, and we find that in the 21st century most people are already well versed with technology. Nonetheless I return each week in hopes of finding at least one person trying to send their first email or perhaps attempting to use Facebook. Most patrons generally give me an appreciative smile and a thank you, however an occasional “trainee” asks for my name and what days I volunteer to come back and meet me. When I realized that these people were returning not for the service at the library, but actually for me specifically, I was able to reevaluate my own niche in our community.

Recently I found that a patron who had often come to meet with me every Thursday before had returned after a few months of absence seemed a little melancholy and significantly less talkative. I casually asked him how his eye surgery we had discussed and scheduled on the computer a few months back had gone, and he explained to me how they told him there was nothing he could do. We proceeded talking and he opened up knowing he was with someone who would listen. He spoke of all of his relatives passing within the recent months, and how he had to return to Switzerland for his own cancer treatment, which was originally diagnosed as terminal. We spoke for hours and I even stayed after my usual time to make sure he was able to vent, as it was clear he really needed someone to talk to. As I walked him out of library, he gratefully explained how in a sense I cured him of the depression he was experiencing.

This sincere comment single-handedly evoked the biggest sense of fulfillment I have ever felt, and allowed me to observe how potent of an impact I have on my community. Whether it be aiding with technology or just participating in conversation, the point is that we are changing lives, and serving as pillars of support and hope to those who need it the most. This has ultimately become what I believe community service truly means.