“I Can Do This”
by Antonia DeMichiel, St. Mary’s College High School, Berkeley, CA
August 2008
In March 2006, just a few short months after I joined buildOn as a freshman, three juniors made a presentation about their recent Trek for Knowledge to Mali, Africa. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow they went to Africa and built a school!”
The three of them spoke with such vigor and enthusiasm, I was slightly jealous. Simultaneously, a million thoughts raced through my mind. “Mali is so far away. I could never live in such an underdeveloped country with the heat and completely different lifestyle for two entire weeks.” I kept doubting myself, thinking that I wasn’t independent enough to embark on such an intense adventure. What was really missing from the equation wasn’t the desire or the determination but the self-confidence.
During the summer of 2007, I spent five weeks in Uruguay volunteering with Amigos de lás Americas, an international volunteer program for high school students. My American partner and I worked in the local high school teaching sex education and doing community improvement projects. When our supervisor had announced the topic of sex education to us, I got really nervous. The training curriculum hadn’t prepared me for such a complex subject, let alone how to teach it to students my own age.
As our first class came to a close, I realized something. If the Uruguayan students were going to laugh at us, I had better just let go, have a stronger sense of humor, and laugh right along with them. It was in that brief moment that I realized, “I can do this.” I finally understood what it meant to genuinely believe in myself and all that I was capable of. Although I didn’t think much of it at the time, this newfound sense of self-confidence is what would eventually drive me to apply for buildOn’s Trek program.
About three weeks after returning from Uruguay, I told my parents that I wanted to go to Mali. My dad jumped on the bandwagon completely while my mom was more cautious and weary of how I would be able to function independently in a culture so different from my own. Regardless, I knew I was going to apply for Trek.
One part of the story remained untold. I was born two months premature. Because I was born so early, certain parts of my brain were not as developed as they should have been. I have a neurological disorder called cerebral palsy, a common disorder common in premature babies. For me, it mostly affects the muscle function in my legs and requires that I use crutches. All of my life, my disability has never kept me from doing anything I wanted. I see my life and my disability as two distinctly separate things. With this attitude in mind, I knew I could go to Mali and have a powerful and enlightening experience.
When I started telling people that I was going to Mali with buildOn, I received mixed reactions. Some people thought that I just couldn’t do it. Hearing their negative comments was difficult, but I knew that with my determined, resilient spirit, I would be able to proudly prove them wrong.
Walking into the welcome ceremony in Kongolikoro after the six-hour bus ride from Bamako, I had no idea that an afternoon of celebratory speeches, music and dancing awaited our group. At first, I sat in a chair on the outer edge of the circle, too shy to dance. Once I saw everyone else dancing, I eagerly jumped up and went to the middle of the circle. The villagers quickly began dancing around me, shouting Lobo, my Malian name. That was the first of many moments in which I witnessed the villagers of Kongolikoro embracing my differences.
On the worksite, I worked alongside the mason learning how to make bricks. He use hand motions to illustrate how to properly pour the cement to make perfectly shaped bricks. By the end of two weeks, I became a pro at making bricks and learned to appreciate a task that I had previously thought of as simple and mundane. The people of Kongolikoro are some of the most generous, welcoming and accommodating people I’ve ever met. They were constantly asking if I was doing okay and always wanted to make sure I was included.
Going to Mali forced me to reflect on the core values that shape my life. So many of the things that I had previously considered important, really are not. I’ve returned from Mali with a greater awareness and appreciation of my lifestyle, and a deeper confidence in the idea that I can do anything I put my mind to, despite the obstacles that get in my way. I feel like by going to Mali, the villagers of Kongolikoro learned as much from me, as I learned from them.