LeBron James, one of the greatest sports athletes, 4x NBA Championship, Finals MVP, and Regular Season MVP make him my hero. But what ascends him to superhero is what he does off the court.
“More than an athlete.”
A motto he lives by has motivated him to help many suffering communities and people in need. In 2003, he built the LeBron James Family Foundation. In 2011, he began the I PROMISE project to help the Ohio community since there’s unbelievably high unemployment and the crime rate there. After 7 years of urging for investments of 8 million dollars, he built the “I PROMISE school” for more than 1,100 kids who couldn’t afford standard educations.
Then during the social injustice protests, LeBron used his voice and platform to raise awareness for Black Lives Matter. His courage to speak up and help the minority with no fear of judgment and hatred is something I admire. He refused the stereotype of “Shut Up and Dribble” leading to him and his teammates creating the initiative “More Than A Vote”, which is about fighting injustice and protecting black voters.
He was a superhero to me not because he’s a superstar who inspires me to love the game of basketball, but because he stands for so much more. He’s a social activist who would be willing to dedicate everything to help this world.
It was until one school trip that I found out there’s a superhero standing right among us leading the path.
Wearing thin-rimmed glasses and sporting snowy white hair, Mr. Chris Perks stands erect on the auditorium stage with iPad in hand sharing pearls of wisdom. He uses his baritone voice to draw stories that keep students attentive. His monthly lectures always end with aphorisms like “be kind to one another” and “give something back to the world, because not everyone is as fortunate as we are.”
One might expect him to be an accomplished teacher, but he is none of that. Apart from our monthly assemblies, he is rarely on campus. My curiosity was piqued. What does he do every day?
Well, I found out soon enough.
Recently, I participated in a trip to the Philippines, which was sponsored by Seeds of Hope, a non-profit organization that focuses on improving communities and helping the less fortunate. Mr. Perks was one of the trip’s supervisors, but he never joined me and my classmates on any evening socials. I was told that, because of a heart issue, he had to maintain a healthy lifestyle and use a machine at night. That worried and vexed me. Why does he keep going on these trips? Why not retire and relax with his family?
A few days later, I got my answer.
Our group visited an orphanage and some schools. I could tell by Mr. Perks’ interactions with them that he was pretty close to the locals. During one speech at a school, he remarked how he was one of the few people who supported the school’s building project, and that he had since watched the students grow from tiny tots to graduating teenagers. They are all his beloved children, and there seemed nothing more important to him than to make sure they all turned out fine. My classmates and I joined in as the students clapped with respect and gratitude.
Not long after, our group participated in building a new school. We grabbed our shovels and cement, divided into groups, and started to work. I’m not going to lie, I am not a big fan of hard labor, especially when exposed to the bright sun and sweltering heat. I was sweaty and exhausted. That is when Mr. Perks stepped in. His compliments and words of encouragement reinvigorated me. Eventually, we achieved great progress and got the long break we deserved. In reward, Mr. Perks brought us raisin cookies, bottles of Pepsi, and Bananas.
As my friends were chatting and chilling, I looked to the west and saw the most beautiful sunset. But that was not even remotely close to what I spotted after: Mr. Perks, a 60-something-year-old man, with a shovel in hand and dirt covering his body, relentlessly working. The thought of children deprived of a school and education pushed him beyond his limits. He was the definition of selflessness, the man we all should strive to try to be.
When the trip was nearly over, I talked with Mr. Perks about the whole experience and shared with him my reflections. He was incredibly thoughtful about helping us to enjoy the process but also learn important lessons. He told me that he visits the community three times per year and this place is only one of many he has dedicated his heart to.
I used to tell my friends I would be doing the same things if I had the status and the salary of LeBron James, but Mr. Perks is living proof that you can still do the same to help the world regardless of how much money and time you have. LeBron and Mr. Perk’s idea of fighting for equal rights and opportunities for all people is a value I plan to live out for the rest of my life.
LeBron James is the one who planted the idea of love and helping one another in my head, but Mr. Perks put hope in my heart that I could, in my way, help improve the world. I’ll spread the love the world has given me to the less fortunate using my knowledge and time to support non-profit organizations that are fighting poverty and injustice. At the end of the day, there is truly no greater feeling than seeing the genuine smiles on people’s faces.
