My
Passion in Life: The
Balance
of Knowledge and Compassion
Emily
N. Beck
As I sat and
waited in my freshly pressed business suit, I was nervous. I had survived many scholarship interviews
before, but I still found myself with sweaty palms. As the Horticulture Insurance Company’s
Scholarship Board entered the room, my nerves surprisingly relaxed. The committee asked typical questions: “What
are your career goals? Where do you see yourself in ten years? Why do you want to attend the University of Texas?”
I was good at answering these questions; in fact, by the end of my
senior year, I could practically recite the answers in perfect essay
format. Then, the president of the scholarship
board asked a question that perplexed me:
“If I went to Edwardsville
High School and asked the
first twenty people I saw for one word to describe you, what would they
say?” I had never before been asked to
adopt the perspective of “a person standing [on the] outside,” looking in. I hit a mental roadblock and, for the first
time during the interview, I was speechless. What was I known for? More importantly, what did I want to be known
for? If my life ended at that moment, “what would the torch represent that [I]
would pass on to the next generation?” After a very long pause for thought, I
responded: “My passion in life is to maintain a healthy balance between
compassion and intelligence. I hope I
would be known for one of these two driving forces in my life.”
My Perception of Compassion (B)
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My passion in life
is not simply to be a nice person. Being
compassionate has helped me develop healthy relationships with others; however,
friendships rarely lead to success in the real world. Kind people often get taken advantage of and seldom
receive the appreciation they deserve.
Likewise, intellectual development alone can not lead to success. A doctor who knows the remedies but does not
empathize with his patients is no more than an updated Home Remedy Encyclopedia. Unlike these individuals, I strive to
maintain a respectable balance between knowledge and compassion. Once I stabilize these two forces, I will be
able to formulate a personal vision that will “authenticate…who [I] really
[am].”
My Perception of Knowledge (C)
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J. H. Newman argues that “education is a
higher word…commonly spoken of in connection with…virtue.” I disagree; I do not believe that knowledge
and virtue are usually coupled. Although
intelligence and kindness appear to be fundamental 
characteristics
within most honorable people, concurrently, they are harder to attain than one
may think. It is very difficult to be
empathetic towards others when you are struggling to make yourself academically
superior to them. For example, in this
class, it is difficult to act with genuine kindness while simultaneously being driven
by the competition for the hammer. Individually,
we would all like to strive for as many points as possible, while showing no
mercy for others; at the same time, however, we feel we should offer assistance
to help others succeed as well. Likewise,
for an individual deeply involved in his studies, it is difficult to find time
for family, friends, and wholesome activities, like volunteering. For example, although volunteering in my
community has been a large part of my life for the past four years, I am
finding it difficult to fit into my new, more demanding academic schedule. For these reasons, when attempting to balance
the opposite driving forces of kindness and knowledge, I find myself “impaled on
‘the horns’ of a dilemma.” When asked what I am passionate about, I
contemplate each force individually:
does my passion lie in my mind or in my soul?
Often I “tend to ignore everything between them and fail to recognize…the
possibilities of the simultaneous presence of both and of a larger whole.” My true driving force in life is to find the
“larger whole” that includes both extreme compassion and ultimate
knowledge. Although it may never be
achieved, I long to attain the education with virtue that Newman believes does
exist.
High School Graduation (F)
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Carving Pumpkins with My Brother
(5)
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Me Learning to Use the “Potty” (D)
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My love of learning developed long
before my formal education began. When I
was only one year old, my parents were attempting to potty-train my older brother. Although I had barely mastered the art of
walking, I was determined to use the “big potty” before he did. I succeeded.
My drive to learn did not stop here.
When I was only three, my brother went off to kindergarten. Missing her first child, my mom signed up to
be the room mother; inevitably, this meant that I would be the room sister. I was the youngest but, in a class of
thirteen kindergarten boys, I never fell behind. Sitting in the front of the room at my own
desk, I was as absorbent as a sponge. I learned
all of the vowels before my brother did and I was better with addition
flashcards than most of the boys in
Carving Pumpkins with My Brother
(E)
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class. In addition to competing in the classroom,
this time spent together allowed my brother and me to become even closer;
Nathan became my role model. Through our
game of “monkey-see, monkey-do,” I learned everything from my sense of fashion
to my artistic ability - - of course adding my own twist in an attempt to outdo
him. I
was competitive from the start; but more so, I loved to learn and to understand
the world around me. In middle school my
infatuation with knowledge led me to be the founding member of the DYKC - - the
Did You Know Club. Every morning, after
saying the pledge of allegiance over the intercom, a DYKC member would read a
random fact for all of the school to hear.
Something about knowledge, even just random facts, has always appealed
to me. My love of
My Scholarship Donor and Me (G)
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learning allowed me to truly adore
my vocation: being a student. One day
after waiting at the bus stop 
in the snow for
thirty minutes, my mom drove by to excitedly tell me school was cancelled. All of the other children were thrilled; I,
on the other hand, began to cry. This
mentality remained part of me throughout high school. After getting my wisdom teeth removed my
senior year, I insisted on not taking any pain medication so I could return to
school immediately. I never 
participated in
Senior Skip Days; and I was the girl that had to go to study hall for an
hour because I did not want to miss my other classes for a field trip. As the end of my senior year neared, I
noticed that my friends were letting their grades slip. I refused to give up. After graduating from high school I was able to say that I achieved my
aspiration of getting all A’s, kindergarten through twelfth grade. Also, my strong work ethic and good grades led
to a full-ride scholarship allowing me to
pursue the college
education I had always dreamed of. As I
embark on my college endeavor, I continue in my quest for knowledge. Although I am failing more Plan II papers
than I am passing and I am in the basement of the PCL studying when I should be
in my bed sleeping, I love school. I am
not naturally brilliant and my grades do not come easy, but my passion to learn
enables me to succeed.
My motivation in academics has never come from a reward for a good
report card or a dollar for an “A.” In
fact I have never felt pressure from my parents to make
good grades. I have never been punished
for bad grades or lectured about my academic performance. Learning is something I do for myself; studying
and understanding new concepts is a sort of meditation for me. My parents always told me that the hardest
part of college would be to find a good way to relieve stress and to suppress
the anxiety that ruled my life throughout middle school and high school. For most college students, this relief is
found outside of the classroom, whether in the gym or in the frat house. This is not the case for me; the only cure
for my anxiety, whether school related or not, is to study. When I am in the library I get a sense of
belonging that I do not find in my dorm room, my sorority house, or even in my
own home, in Edwardsville. It feels as
if I am at peace with myself, knowing that I am doing all I can to better
myself. I find joy in learning, knowing,
and, ultimately, succeeding. It is my
love of learning, even about topics unrelated to my major, which has led me to
the University of
Texas’ Plan II Honors
Program. Since I can remember, my parents
have led me to believe that I can be anything I want to be. My ambition to better myself academically, and
thus my achievement of good grades, has made this a reality. My MCAT score may one day determine where I attend
medical school, but the score on one test and even the knowledge I gain over
the next four years will not determine my future successes. I must “take care not to make the intellect
[my] god. It has, of course, powerful
muscles, but no personality. It cannot
lead, it can only serve.”
Academic success alone will not lead to
my personal vision; intelligence and compassion must coexist.
Daniel
Goleman, from Harvard, argues, “
despite the great values that
business culture often places on intellect…our emotions are, in a very real
sense, more powerful.”
Although a large portion of my
life has been spent “seek[ing] the heights” academically, I have always been a
very emotional and compassionate person. If a stranger drops his books, I am there to
pick them up; if my friends need a shoulder to cry on, I am more than willing to
offer mine - - this kindness developed deep within me at a very early age. Before I could even walk, my parents taught
me the importance of sharing. I never
hesitated in allowing my brother to use my toys; in fact, the word
“mine” was not even a part of my
vocabulary. In addition to learning how
to share as a youngster, I grew up as a very caring child. When my cousin told me Santa was not real, I
was in shock; when she told me that my dolls were not real, I knew she was
lying. I loved my dolls with all of my 
heart and I spent
much of my childhood caring for them. I
gave the same love and affection to human life.
When my mom and I would pass by babies at the park, I would always point
them out - - I was amazed at the beauty and fragile appearance of new
life. In preschool, when asked what I
wanted to be when I grew up, I never hesitated in saying “I am going to be a
baby doctor.” My desire to be a pediatrician “did not come out
of [my] rational mind;” at three years 
old, I was not
worried about what subjects I was good at in school, what my personality test
said, or how much money I would be making; I only wanted to help children get
better. It is this “intuitive awareness that … binds
us together in generosity and compassion.”
By
five, I had developed my love of human life that will (hopefully) lead to my
life-long vocation of being a pediatrician.
A Patient at Ranken-Jordan (L)
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A Patient at Ranken-Jordan (L)
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As I
have grown older, I have been forced to consider the downfalls of going into
the medical profession; however, nothing will get in the way of my personal
drive to help others. I have come to
accept this “deeper wisdom, which knows its place and accepts Not Knowing
(sic).” To me, the “deeper wisdom” in my life is
represented by my passion for compassion.
Although my grades are a high priority in my life, I have never
complained when asked to give up a night at the library to help my community. Throughout high school I participated in many
volunteer programs including canned food drives, Christmas caroling, free
babysitting, and peer tutoring. In
addition to this community service, two years ago I embarked on what would
become the most difficult and the most rewarding adventure of my life:
volunteering at Ranken-Jordan
Pediatric Rehabilitation
Hospital. Working at this hospital has allowed me to
experience many miracles: I have held a child’s hand while he took his first
step after being told he would never walk again; I have cradled a child in my
arms while she took
A Patient at Ranken-Jordan (L)
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her first bite of solid food after intestinal
reconstructive surgery; and I have watched a premature infant, barely strong
enough to breathe on his own, grow into a active and healthy little boy. At the same time, however, not all cases at
Ranken-Jordan are successes. Through
these struggles I have learned to console families and deal with the
misfortunes God has sent. I believe volunteering
at this center has made me an even more caring and grateful person; but mostly,
working with these children has reminded me that there is more to be learned in
life than what can be taught by any textbook.
I will not let money, schooling, or personal issues hinder my dream; my
drive to help others is stronger than these societal trepidations. While ultimately my education at the University of Texas will lead me down the path to
medical school, I feel as if my liberal arts degree and life experiences, like volunteering
at Ranken-Jordan, will help further develop the compassion that compels me to
be a doctor.
“What am I doing when I am in ‘the flow,’ all my
energies and attention completely focused on what am I doing?”
This answer is simple. I am balancing
the two most influential forces in my life: knowledge and compassion. Without compassion, I would have no drive, no
friends, no heart, and therefore no reason to live. Without knowledge, I would not respect myself
and would not be able to successfully express my opinions or reach my goals. As I look back at my life and examine the
major events on my roadmap, I see one consistent thing: “the experiences and changes, the turning
points, [and the] triumphs and crashes” in my life have in one way or another
been influenced by my love of learning and my inclination to empathize with
others. Lamar argues that a “cultivated mind [is]
controlled by virtue.”
I would disagree. Kindness cannot control knowledge and knowledge
cannot control kindness; only by struggling to maintain both can the two even
coexist. By balancing compassion and
knowledge I find my fervor to live, love, and laugh: I find my true passion. That is what I want to be known for.
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