I am sensitive to the needs of babies that are in need of love. There are times when a fetus is aborted because the couple failed to use a less tragic form of birth control. Stories of sleeping infants being left in boxes bother me. Tales of toddlers being abused and neglected haunt me. I cringe at the thought of children not feeling the love that they deserve.
I am sensitive to the yearnings of the youth. Their uncertainty, their feelings of angst, and their calls for support echo in my mind. I encounter students every day that are hurting, and that could use a little boost every now and then.
I am sensitive to the questions of young adults. Inquiries on how to get into and stay in postsecondary institutions shower me every day. Young adults express to me fear regarding how to pay off educational loans, how to start a career, and how to live up to filial expectations very often.
I am sensitive to the history of people of color. Their stories strike me to the core of my soul. I relate to their quest for equality, for autonomy, and for self-actualization.
I am sensitive to the status of women. The double standard they face is always on my mind. I witnessed my mother work twice as hard as the next man just to get the same amount of praise.
I am sensitive to the fight of the handicapped and disabled. Their struggles of access and fairness strike a chord in my heart. I see with the blind, hear with the deaf, and work with the unable.
I am sensitive to the deterioration of the elderly. They share with me their physical, mental, and emotional aches and pains. I empathize with their loss of independence, with their fear of being a burden, and their desire to die with dignity.
I am sensitive to the plight of the poor. My heart aches for families that can not afford food and housing. I know what it is like to not have running water, plumbing, or electricity. My memories include embarrassment from being teased for non-name-brand clothing.
I am sensitive to the struggle of the immigrant. My experiences have included trying to translate for non-English speakers, filling out forms and paperwork with them. I share their stories of discrimination, of fear, and frustration.
I am sensitive–and this makes me stronger than ever.
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