I haven’t come in contact with very many famous people. When I was two-years-old I saw New York Yankees player Bernie Williams in a grocery store and (according to my dad) he smiled at me. In 2006, I met Hillary Clinton, and I met her again this past Memorial Day (there are perks to living in the same town as her). Over the course of last year, I saw Laverne Cox, Nick Offerman, and Retta speak here at Cornell.
And then, on September 10, 2015, my Hillel committee, the Major Speakers Series committee, brought in Jonathan Safran Foer, bestselling author of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Everything Is Illuminated, and Eating Animals. In an informal, interview-style talk moderated by the legendary Denice Cassarro, Safran Foer spoke about all aspects of his life, from writing to inspirations, criticism to vegetarianism. I was very much enjoying the event, until the author said one thing in particular that gave me pause. He related to us his oft-asked question to himself: “what is motivating me?”
I sat back and took a deep breath. It’s clear that he constantly searches for motivation to write, but all of a sudden I saw myself, not a successful author, staring into a mirror asking “what is motivating me?” As college students, we never really take the time to ask ourselves that question. Sure, every day we’re motivated by deadlines, professors, TAs, and requirements. We do the work, write the essays, complete the problem sets. But what is really motivating us, in the grander scheme of our lives? Is it graduating with the rest of our class? Is it the terrifying, looming, uncertain idea of our futures?
Motivation is an interesting thing to think about. I had no idea what truly motivated me – possibly some concept of a perfect yet unattainable future? The possibility of eventual success and some sort of payoff for the years of schooling? I continued to think about these things as the interview continued. Safran Foer began to talk about a sort of internal crisis he had. He pointed out how doctors never wonder why they do what they do; it’s beyond clear what their purpose is. But as a writer, he said, he has often wondered: what’s the point?
Well…what is the point? What is the point of anything we do? Safran Foer’s words sent a chill down my spine. I realized just how many of us blindly do our work and join clubs and look for internships because we know we should – but without asking what the point is. I suddenly had a clarity I didn’t realize I’ve needed. I was able to see that there’s a bigger picture to all of this – there’s a point to it all. Of course I know that there’s a purpose to going to college, but this gave me perspective. We’re here now to make the rest of our lives better. This is where we learn, make connections, and grow into the people who will soon lead all aspects of society, all over the world. My classes are less daunting, the work less annoying, because now I have “the point” of it at the forefront of my mind.
It’s truly incredible how a mindset can change once you begin to focus on the big picture rather than each of the small things happening every day. After these talks, I often wonder to myself if it was worthwhile. Had I wasted my limited time sitting and listening to some person talk for an hour? In this case, I don’t think I did. However, while I have definitely gotten something out of all of these speakers, they’re always still a bit underwhelming. Because they’re just people. But they still have the ability to make us reflect on our own lives and change our way of thinking. These things make us who we are. As Safran Foer writes in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, “My life story is the story of everyone I’ve ever met.” So do everything you can, come in contact with as many famous and not famous people that are within your reach. Because any one of those experiences can change your perspective, and change your life.





















