The Brown & White

This past weekend, I drove northeast from Lehigh to the small town of Brattleboro, Vt. I did not drive hundreds of miles for maple syrup, nor for moose watching - in fact, I was informed that moose do not frequent that part of Vermont. I was shopping for a graduate school.

After the graduate school's open house finished, I was invited to listen to Mr. Joseph Sebarenzi speak. Sebarenzi is the former head of the Rwandan Parliament, and a current professor at the School for International Training (SIT) Graduate Institute.

He, like many of his Rwandan brethren, has lived a tragic life. During the Rwandan genocide in 1994, many of his relatives were killed; among them were his parents and his seven siblings. When he returned to Rwanda years later, he did not seek revenge. Sebarenzi said it is important not to hate those responsible for the genocide - he hates the idea of genocide itself. Sebarenzi's approach toward keeping a proper perspective on genocide is composed of three pillars.

First, we must look to the past so we can not only learn to forgive, but also learn how to prevent it from happening again. As a people we must break the vicious cycle of violence by not seeking revenge.

Second, we must use spirituality to our advantage because good must overcome evil. While we cannot forgive the genocide, we can forgive the people at fault.

Third, Sebarenzi said we must all learn to let our anger go, if only for the sake of our own health.

Sebarenzi emphasized a point that I consider key to finding peace in any context: We must remember that we are all brothers and sisters despite our differences.

If the politicians at the national level do nothing to advance a just cause, we as individuals can still do something. Grassroots movements are good examples of the power that lies within people like you and me to enact change.

As head of the Rwandan Parliament, Sebarenzi tried to make the country more democratic, but he and his family were threatened. Fearing for his life, he escaped to a nearby country, where he was subsequently beaten for fear of being a spy. If people can endure hardships like the ones Sebarenzi has faced his entire life, I believe that we can push for the changes we want and need in our own lives.

It's been more than a decade since the genocide, and yet so many of the people affected are still desperately seeking reconciliation. The problem in Rwanda, Sebarenzi believes, is lack of dialogue. The past is shunned in an effort to move on as quickly as possible. But wounds cannot heal properly unless they are treated and cared for.

Here in the United States we focus so much on our differences, on the things that separate us from one another. Diversity defines this nation, and so it should be cherished instead of being used to push us further apart. I fear that we are making mountains out of molehills when we say how much we despise our opponents in our country and around the world.

The challenges we face are a poor healthcare system, failing schools and a wrecked economy. These challenges are difficult to overcome, but they certainly are fixable, and we should push to get them fixed. Compared to what other people face around the world, the problems we complain about are minuscule.

This is a man who has witnessed his beautiful country turn into a bloodbath, and who has faced threat of injury and death. Yet, he forgives.

Sebarenzi rhetorically asked the audience how one could tell when night has ended and day has begun: "When you can look at your enemy, and he is your brother," he replied.

I found inspiration in a speech given after an open house. If you keep your eyes and ears open, you'll likely find something to inspire you as well. To figure out "what's next" we have to know what really makes us who we are. We should ask ourselves where we want to further our education after graduation. Whether we strive for graduate or professional degrees, or attempt to persevere in the job market, our education does not end when we are given a diploma. Don't just look for "a job," find one that fills you with a sense of purpose.

I urge you to look beyond the path of least resistance.