I'm Inspired
Today I am inspired to create a new word.
Disinspire: [verb] To demoralise, disappoint and deflate.
I’m disinspired.
We’re all born at some point in time. We grow up. Our parents enroll us in a mental institution [the last time I checked, it was called a school]. We memorise facts at the institution. We regurgitate the facts a few months later. We eat the vomit we just threw up. We regurgitate it again. We graduate. We go to university. We graduate again. We live adult lives. We work. When we catch a rare break, we watch the news. We watch the breaking news. It makes no difference to our day-to-day lives. We return to our work. We reach retirement age. We dig holes and plant flowers in them. Our joints get creaky. We get bored. We die.
But just before we die, we look back and realise this: We have lived rather disinspiring lives around disinspiring people in disinspiring circumstances. We are demoralised, disappointed, and deflated.
Then we die.
And people oblige with flowery eulogies about how so-and-so-was-such-an-inspiration-to-me. By then we’re rather too dead to get up and explain that life wasn’t as great as it could have been.
As much as we’d love to deny it, many of us are disinspired. We aren’t really the innovative, effervescent people we claim to be. We are passive complainers, persistent cynics and pessimistic critics. We voice out our discontent daily; we grumble about the state of the country to the people around us; and then we feel smug after having given a fantastic dissertation that has brought on a vigorous bout of head-nodding all around the table. And we go our own merry way.
Yet this is the very reason behind the world’s problems: Our disinspiration ends where it is. We are all too content with picking at problems, and picking at the solutions to the problems, and picking at the solutions to the problems of the solutions to the problem.
But take into account this cliché: ‘Behind every cloud there is a silver lining’. Let’s say that disinspiration is a cloud. And inspiration is its silver lining. Most people think that the silver lining exists in spite of the cloud. But dig deeper. If there’s no cloud, there’s no silver lining. The silver lining exists because of the cloud.
Disinspiration should never end where it is, but its very existence should be the reason for inspiration to surface. An American 13-year old, Taila Leman was disinspired by the destruction wreaked by Hurricance Katrina. Yet this disinspiration ultimately inspired her to start a nonprofit organisation called RandomKid. Her first project called upon kids to request for coins instead of candy while trick-or-treating — and it raised the whopping amount of US$ 10 million for disaster aid! Not content with that victory, Taila built upon her other disinspirations and wound up building a school in Cambodia, raised money for the AIDS cause, and collected US$ 25 000 for a four-year old leukemia patient. And she won the Children’s Nobel Prize.
This leads me to ask a question: What have we done with our disinspirations?
Have we bottled them up and put them in the cellar to age indefinitely? Have we shelved them away to gather dust? Have we swept them in a corner into the accumulating pile of old disinspirations?
What have you done with your disinspirations?
I’ll tell you what I’ve done with mine.
A few years back in high school, the students in my year had to prepare for a major exam. We were pressured from all sides by teachers, by parents, and by each other. Some rose above their difficulties to excel in their studies. Others fell behind. And the system was such that the further behind you were, the faster you fell behind.
So I was disinspired. I was disinspired by the relentless, pointless pursuit of A’s. I was disinspired by the derogatory words that were pointed at the weaker students. I was disinspired by the treatment of students as statistics and not as unique individuals with varied capabilities. Yet it was through this disinspiration that one day, I was inspired to begin a support group for these students. A support group that would not only provide practical academic help, but would also remind its members that they were, in fact, smart. A support group that wouldn’t give up on those the teachers had given up on. Thus, PANIC — People Are Not Idiots Co. was born. It was amazing to see how the group members (many of whom had already given up on their formal lessons) would faithfully turn up every break and lunch to pick up on their studies. It was amazing to witness the speed at which they picked up new facts and concepts when their worth as individuals was affirmed. And in the end, they truly rose to the occasion to excel in their exams. But more importantly, they discovered that what had once seemed impossible really was possible with enough effort and guidance. Their disinspiration too, had led to inspiration.
Puzzles exist for us to find the answers. Problems exist for us to find the solutions. Disinspiration exists for us to derive inspiration from it.
If, a few years back, you had asked me about what inspires me, I might have said that my mom does. Or my dad does. Or my pet does. They still inspire me to this day. But if you ask me about what inspires me today, I would unashamedly tell you that my disinspirations inspire me. They remind me that there’s so much room for more, whether it be at home, at school, in society, in the world.
And today I’m inspired.
I’m inspired to redefine a word.
Disinspire: [verb] To inspire inspiration.
By Hannah Khaw
Disinspire: [verb] To demoralise, disappoint and deflate.
I’m disinspired.
We’re all born at some point in time. We grow up. Our parents enroll us in a mental institution [the last time I checked, it was called a school]. We memorise facts at the institution. We regurgitate the facts a few months later. We eat the vomit we just threw up. We regurgitate it again. We graduate. We go to university. We graduate again. We live adult lives. We work. When we catch a rare break, we watch the news. We watch the breaking news. It makes no difference to our day-to-day lives. We return to our work. We reach retirement age. We dig holes and plant flowers in them. Our joints get creaky. We get bored. We die.
But just before we die, we look back and realise this: We have lived rather disinspiring lives around disinspiring people in disinspiring circumstances. We are demoralised, disappointed, and deflated.
Then we die.
And people oblige with flowery eulogies about how so-and-so-was-such-an-inspiration-to-me. By then we’re rather too dead to get up and explain that life wasn’t as great as it could have been.
As much as we’d love to deny it, many of us are disinspired. We aren’t really the innovative, effervescent people we claim to be. We are passive complainers, persistent cynics and pessimistic critics. We voice out our discontent daily; we grumble about the state of the country to the people around us; and then we feel smug after having given a fantastic dissertation that has brought on a vigorous bout of head-nodding all around the table. And we go our own merry way.
Yet this is the very reason behind the world’s problems: Our disinspiration ends where it is. We are all too content with picking at problems, and picking at the solutions to the problems, and picking at the solutions to the problems of the solutions to the problem.
But take into account this cliché: ‘Behind every cloud there is a silver lining’. Let’s say that disinspiration is a cloud. And inspiration is its silver lining. Most people think that the silver lining exists in spite of the cloud. But dig deeper. If there’s no cloud, there’s no silver lining. The silver lining exists because of the cloud.
Disinspiration should never end where it is, but its very existence should be the reason for inspiration to surface. An American 13-year old, Taila Leman was disinspired by the destruction wreaked by Hurricance Katrina. Yet this disinspiration ultimately inspired her to start a nonprofit organisation called RandomKid. Her first project called upon kids to request for coins instead of candy while trick-or-treating — and it raised the whopping amount of US$ 10 million for disaster aid! Not content with that victory, Taila built upon her other disinspirations and wound up building a school in Cambodia, raised money for the AIDS cause, and collected US$ 25 000 for a four-year old leukemia patient. And she won the Children’s Nobel Prize.
This leads me to ask a question: What have we done with our disinspirations?
Have we bottled them up and put them in the cellar to age indefinitely? Have we shelved them away to gather dust? Have we swept them in a corner into the accumulating pile of old disinspirations?
What have you done with your disinspirations?
I’ll tell you what I’ve done with mine.
A few years back in high school, the students in my year had to prepare for a major exam. We were pressured from all sides by teachers, by parents, and by each other. Some rose above their difficulties to excel in their studies. Others fell behind. And the system was such that the further behind you were, the faster you fell behind.
So I was disinspired. I was disinspired by the relentless, pointless pursuit of A’s. I was disinspired by the derogatory words that were pointed at the weaker students. I was disinspired by the treatment of students as statistics and not as unique individuals with varied capabilities. Yet it was through this disinspiration that one day, I was inspired to begin a support group for these students. A support group that would not only provide practical academic help, but would also remind its members that they were, in fact, smart. A support group that wouldn’t give up on those the teachers had given up on. Thus, PANIC — People Are Not Idiots Co. was born. It was amazing to see how the group members (many of whom had already given up on their formal lessons) would faithfully turn up every break and lunch to pick up on their studies. It was amazing to witness the speed at which they picked up new facts and concepts when their worth as individuals was affirmed. And in the end, they truly rose to the occasion to excel in their exams. But more importantly, they discovered that what had once seemed impossible really was possible with enough effort and guidance. Their disinspiration too, had led to inspiration.
Puzzles exist for us to find the answers. Problems exist for us to find the solutions. Disinspiration exists for us to derive inspiration from it.
If, a few years back, you had asked me about what inspires me, I might have said that my mom does. Or my dad does. Or my pet does. They still inspire me to this day. But if you ask me about what inspires me today, I would unashamedly tell you that my disinspirations inspire me. They remind me that there’s so much room for more, whether it be at home, at school, in society, in the world.
And today I’m inspired.
I’m inspired to redefine a word.
Disinspire: [verb] To inspire inspiration.
By Hannah Khaw
