"Isn't That Short for 'Hero-Shima?'"

So, Oprah's doing something kind of cool. Instead of doing her annual Oprah's Favorite Things show, in which she gives away thousands of dollars worth of lavish gifts to her audience (think Burberry jackets, computers, and Mini Coopers), this year she's granting people "truly the best gift" - experiencing the satisfaction of giving back. Oprah gave 300 random people $1,000 and a video camera and simply told them to go out and make others happy.

It was pretty interesting to see what different people did with the money. Some spearheaded huge service projects, helping thousands of people around the world and joining the relief efforts for such daunting issues as AIDS and Hurricane Katrina. Some just gave it away to random people on the street who looked like they needed a helping hand. One lady even ordered a bunch of pizzas and doled out $200-$400 tips to the delivery guys. It was a broad spectrum, but each and every person who participated in Oprah's project helped another human being in one way or another. I really enjoyed watching this show. I got to see a simple, direct, yet very random brand of generosity manifested through "ordinary" people (as opposed to celebrities. Bono?). Sometimes I like Oprah.

Anyway, while I was watching, my roommate remarked that philanthropic episodes of Oprah always make her feel like a bad person. After all, what had she done for society? Not anything that spectacular. I pointed out that her family had a foster child for a year and a half, which is undoubtedly an amazing thing to do.

In all honestly, very few people have done anything "that spectacular" for the world. I, too, used to feel like I wasn't contributing anything to humankind. I thought that life was all about satisfying people and that, in today's world with so many needs and problems, it wasn't possible to even make a dent. This past summer taught me that it really doesn't take much to make someone happy, or even to become a hero. I went into my job as a camp counselor not thinking that I was going to have any profound impact on children's lives. After all, kids just come to camp to goof off and have fun, right? That's true to an extent, but you'd be surprised at how much children learn and grow in just five days of living communally and climbing on stuff. It's an awesome thing to see. Simply being involved in that is contributing to society, if you ask me.

In my theology classes in high school we learned about St. Therese, who was famous for her "little way" - the idea that it was not necessary to accomplish great deeds to better the world. Instead, it was the simple, everyday, random acts of kindness that improved the world at a fundamental level. I once went to Taco Bell and said "please" and "thank you" after placing my order and getting my change back. I'll never forget picking up my #8 and Diet Pepsi that evening. The woman at the second drive-through was just ecstatic about my politeness: "It's so nice to hear manners once in awhile. You have a good night now, sugar!" she'd exclaimed. Working in a place that people usually just blow through without a second thought, she really appreciated that I had taken the time to be courteous. I'd just used basic etiquette and I'd made that woman's day.

I've learned that making the world a better place isn't really all that complicated, on a very basic level. All you have to do is hold a door for someone, put a dollar in a tip jar or make a kid laugh, and you're automatically making your environment more positive. You don't need $1,000 and a video camera from Oprah to be a good person. In today's world, you almost have to start small.

The picture is Cheese Woman, my alter ego. Would I be skeletal and green with a pet raccoon if I were really a superhero? I couldn't say, as I'm just a regular person doing regular stuff. You can make your own hero using this generator, which I got from my former camp director's blog, The Hero Workshop. Go there if you want more about making the world a cooler place, from someone who knows.

It's a good thing nobody reads this, because that entry was killer long.