闵舒晴 华东政法大学

The Weight of a Dream

I believe every dream has a weight.

When I was a kid, I was fond of dreaming. After I outgrew my childhood dreams, I had dreams about my adulthood future. As I recall, my dreams have always been light and delightful. It was not until a recent talk with my dad that I felt the heaviness of my dream.

Dad suggested that I keep alive my childhood dream of being a public servant. In his dictionary, public servant means “serving the people heart and soul,” and, at the same time, job security for his princess daughter. As usual, I turned my back on him and his counseling. First, I am 20 and no longer a dad admirer. I don’t want to follow his steps. Second, I want to be an interpreter now. And I believe all the pressures from reality must yield to my dream. Dad ended up saying, “I always stand by you. But you must learn to deal with the pressure that comes along with your dream.”

Pressure? That is what I would strive against once I choose to dream for myself. Soon I seized an opportunity of working as an interpreter for a German based multinational firm. Even sooner, I was caught unawares when the personnel manager simply assigned me to register the information of suppliers. I felt my talent was to be wasted on a petty job. Also, I found out that all my Chinese colleagues as well as most of the clients boasted a good command of English. Disappointed and frustrated, I found myself yawning alone in my little corner, my interpreter dream sinking with the passage of every leaden minute.

Mom noticed my solemn silence during the dinner. As a school teacher, she always inspires young students to dream big and aim high. As a mother, she also encourages me to nurture my own dream and strive for it. Late that night, she came to my bed and said, “Ask yourself what you really want? Don’t let your dream bend you down!”

Mom’s words inspired me. I don’t want to be an interpreter only for the sake of being an interpreter. I want to be someone who helps communicate.

With a changed perspective, I no longer huddled in my little corner. I reached out. Soon, help was needed. My boss Andrew met a supplier who couldn’t speak English. As others were all busy with their clients, Andrew smiled at me and said, “Yes, Sunny. I need your help.” Andrew gave me a bear hug after my job was done. I knew I was no longer “Sunny in the corner,’ but “Sunny to the rescue.”

I also knew my perception of a dream has changed. A dream can be light, so light that it slips away before you know it deserves a strive. A dream can be heavy, so heavy that it bends you down, breaks your backbone, no matter how hard you try. And I know each of your dreams has a weight, a due weight, a weight that enables you to fly it and land it.

As I look back, most of my childhood dreams were too light to be able to land. Some of my big, ambitious dreams were too heavy to be able to fly. All these dreams had one thing in common: There was a lonely me in each of them. I dreamed lonely dreams. But now I know whatever job I do, a civil servant, a school teacher, or an interpreter, I do it to fulfill a dream, a dream of connecting the world, connecting people, connecting us.

Ladies and Gentlemen, never dream a lonely dream. Give your dream a pair of wings.