What Do You Do?

For the past half decade I wrote for and edited a small regional publication. One of my early assignments was to interview a local bank president, known for his commitment to charitable works.

I found him genuine and pleasant. At the end of our conversation, he asked me, "What do you do?"

Meaning, of course, not what do I do for work, but what do I do in the way of community service.

I felt an instant sense of shame. How to answer? I sit around reading books when I have spare time? I never drop banana peels on the sidewalk? I make my own kim chi?

Soon thereafter, inspired,  I applied to be on my town cultural council, and to sit on the advisory board of an arts organization. Earlier this week, I was made co-chair of the council, and I'm proud of this because it gives me a pleasant way to do something for the town in which I live for which I receive nothing in return -- nothing other than saving myself a sense of shame should I ever run into the bank president again and he asks me the same question.

I can't pat myself on the back too hard. I walk the woods and think to myself at some point I should take along a trash bag and pick up some of the nips and crushed cans that sprout along the paths. But I never do. It's very easy to think of myself as an OK guy just because I say please and thank you. 

At this very moment, I'm looking at a piece of trash in a woodland clearing. I will spend much more time wondering who left it there and why, and perhaps feeling angry or resentful, than I will spend going over to pick it up.

But now I'm obligated. Power of the word. Easy.