Casey Benzaken, Westhill High School in Stamford

[Note: This is not the article where you should vote for this contestant. This is essayist No. 8, so in the voting article, which is here, just post a comment that says ‘8' to vote for this student. Voting is limited to one person per finalist per day, and closes at 11:59 p.m. on May 18. The finalist essay follows.] 

When I went to Senegal for a volunteer trip, the most profound thing I noticed was the sense of kinship among the people.  Saint-Louis, Senegal, is a fairly large city situated near the Senegalese River.  It’s filled with wind-battered houses peeling under the glare of the sun and stinks of fish.  But Saint-Louis also has a sort of charm—it’s as warm and bright as the people it contains and upon arriving I instantly felt welcomed into the community.

In Senegal, I worked with the talibés, or street children.  On the first day, they greeted me with Bonjours and As-Salaam-Alaikums and smiles that were so genuine it ached.  

I joined the service trip knowing I was going to work with children, but I didn’t know exactly what I would be doing.  That very day, I was handed gauze and Betadine and was informed I was going to be treating wounds.  Until this point in my life, medical appointments had been stressful events because I consistently felt sick at the sight of blood.  Learning that I would be acting as a doctor to these orphans was out of my comfort zone.

To me, community service is never one-sided.  As I treated the wounds of the orphans—slowly at first and with a lot of caution—they helped me overcome my fear.  Toddlers so young they should be under the careful scrutiny of parents, not wandering the streets alone, thanked me with wide eyes when their limbs were wrapped in fresh, white bandages.  Teenagers thanked me with proud handshakes.  

Even though the talibés didn’t have enough for themselves, they made a point of offering me pieces of baguette and sips of hibiscus juice, and it made me feel like my efforts were valuable.  I believe the inherently positive attitude of the Senegalese people towards others allowed the orphans to be the happiest children I’ve ever met. 

I’ve never felt so close to a group of people I hardly know in such a short amount of time, and I think this is because the connection made with different cultural communities is innately strong if the situation is approached with an open mind.  In my experience with volunteer work I’ve found that the people who have the least to give are the ones who try to reciprocate favors the most because they understand the value of giving.

In volunteer work, there is always the person performing the act of service—whether it is handing out meals at a soup kitchen or picking up litter along the side of the road.  However, there is also the reward, the bonds created, the tangible evidence that giving has purpose.  In Senegal, when I came and when I left, the people repeated the expression, “One love.”  

To me, community service is the balance of giving and taking to allow cultures to achieve this one love, regardless of racial divisions or personal limitations, so that people can come together to make the best of the life they were given. 

[Note: This is not the article where you should vote for this contestant. This is essayist No. 8, so in the voting article, which is here, just post a comment that says ‘8' to vote for this student. Voting is limited to one person per finalist per day, and closes at 11:59 p.m. on May 18.]