About 10 years ago, my parents took me to a New York Knicks game for my birthday. The Knicks were playing the hated Bulls (back when both teams were good), and His Airness himself, Michael Jordan, had just come out of retirement (for the first time). At the end of the third quarter, my mom and I went to get some snacks from the concession stand. When we got to the front and ordered our food, the woman behind the counter asked if we were all paying together. Puzzled, my mom turned around, and standing behind her was Christopher Reeve -- the man of steel himself.
I remember looking up awestruck at him and being amazed at how he towered over me. When it suddenly dawned upon the cashier who she was talking to, she screamed, "Oh my goodness! You're Superman!" Blushing, Reeve smiled warmly and said that we were paying separately. Still in a bit of shock, my mom and I paid for our food and returned to our seats.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. Coincidentally enough, around the time of my birthday, I once again was in the presence of Christopher Reeve, albeit under very different circumstances. As the curtain opened Tuesday night at Irvine Auditorium, you could still see his towering physique. Yet although he was bald, motionless and confined to his wheelchair, his mind was still sharp and his determination still strong.
All throughout his life, Reeve has used the words of Abraham Lincoln as a guide for action. The former president remarked that "when I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. That is my religion." Although there are many external factors influencing us every day, deep down, Reeve believes that there is a little voice inside us that serves as our moral compass. He lamented that unfortunately, in today's society, the voice has been drowned out.
Corporate icons are being thrown in jail. Doctors and patients are waging a war with HMOs over how to provide medical care for people and haggling over costs -- not the best way to provide care. Religious figures can be seen handcuffed and put in jail with disturbing regularity. In these instances, society has drowned out that inner voice and replaced it with greed. "Where are the values?" Reeve asked.
Reeve suggested that one way we can follow the words of Lincoln is to see the world as a matter of giving and taking. He urged us all to live in the moment and let go, because the more you give, the more you will be rewarded in ways you cannot understand. As a sophomore in Wharton studying finance, I began to worry. I'm being taught the exact opposite of what Reeve preaches: the best way to take advantage of a situation for my own benefit and make the most money. How could I rationalize my studies with the message Reeve preached?
What I realized was that the world is not as simple as giving and taking. Business icons being thrown in jail not only took for themselves; they took from others in the process. They caused harm to innocent people by raiding pensions and destroying investor trust. I realized that if you work in business, you should do it while being honest and good. The two need not be mutually exclusive. These robber barons looked at their moral compass and decided to ignore it.
Whenever we hear stories like this and think that society is without hope, it is easy to become distraught. Yet Reeve tells us that we cannot allow this to happen. We have the potential and ability to enact change. We must use the education we obtain at Penn to make these changes happen. Our knowledge cannot be confined to the ivory tower of academia.
Implementing change will not be easy. It will be a challenge. But when Reeve thought about challenges, he was reminded of the lesson that he learned from his senior-year English teacher. When a student was asked why he was not in class the previous day, he explained that "he was not feeling well." The teacher responded that "the only excuse for nonattendance is quadruple amputation. Even then, they can still bring you to class in a basket. So you better show up."
Regardless of what we study, we can be the leaders of tomorrow and work to restore what is good. Don't hide from these challenges; confront them head on. Trust the moral compass guiding us to do what is right, and always show up.
Craig Cohen is a Wharton sophomore from Woodbury, N.Y. He Hate Me appears on Fridays.
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