Host: Jay Allison
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Jay Allison: [00:00:12] From PRX, this is The Moth Radio Hour. I'm your host and producer of this show, Jay Allison. In this episode, stories of life lessons from little nuggets of wisdom to life altering epiphanies.
First up is Sam Bolen. Sam told this story at a New York City GrandSLAM, where WNYC is a media partner of The Moth. Live from the Music Hall of Williamsburg, here's Sam.
[cheers and applause]
Sam: [00:00:41] About two years into a certain global pandemic, I understudied five roles in a big Off-Broadway revival of a musical. The show was amazing. I saw it about 50 times. But what was hard for me was leaving the theater every night, not having done the show. It was disappointing to me and it was making me feel on the outside of it all. There was, of course, always a chance that I could go on. It was the Omicron surge in New York. My best friend called it the season of the understudy. [audience laughter] But for me, every time I got put on standby, I spent hours of that day tense, ready to go on, they turned out to be a false alarm.
And so, when I got a call on a morning at the end of the year telling me to be ready to go on, I didn't think much of it. I just dutifully ran my lines and waited. But then, we got an email from the director, something that was new. And he said to the whole company, “I know there's a lot of confusion and distress about how we make the choice of when to put an understudy on. These are uncharted territories for all of us. We have to make the decision based on what we know right now. Sam, you're on. Have a great show.”
The clarity of this email was like drugs. [audience laughter] I shot off a bunch of texts to my friends telling them that I was on that night, and I raced to theater for my very first put in rehearsal with the cast. And finally, when I walked in the doors of that theater that night, I was the main character. Everything was about making sure that I had a good show that night. And this cast that I had watched from my little understudy corner in the dark for months become a true ensemble, suddenly was surrounding me, and I was a part of it.
And it felt so easy. It felt so good. When it was over, the cast applauded and the stage management dismissed them and said, “Sam, come talk to us.” I was so full of adrenaline, like it was an opening night and I just couldn't wait. I went to talk to stage management and I found them talking in whispers. And then, one of the stage manager called me over and said in a voice like she was telling me someone had died, “I'd like you to sit down.” And she says, “That was a fantastic rehearsal, you know that.” She said she was grateful that she could count on me. But then, she said that the other actor's test results had come back negative, the union had cleared him to go on and he has chosen to perform. “There's nothing we can do. I'm so sorry. I hold it together just long enough to say something really dumb like, “Rules is rules.” [audience laughter]
I gather my things, and I burst through the stage door out onto the street, and I burst into tears and I just walk. As the adrenaline is draining out of my body, I think, I am not mad at--This show for jerking me around. This is the job. I'm not mad at this actor, because he spent the day in a clinic waiting for COVID results. I am just tired, and I don't know if I belong here. I text my friends to tell them that it was another false alarm. And I think, at least I got that rehearsal. At least I got to be up there with them. They know I can do it and I know I can do it. And then, I get a really sweet text from one of my best friends on the show. He says, “It's my birthday tomorrow. We're having a party in the dressing room. Please come and hang out with us after the show.”
I'm not about to miss a party. [audience laughter] So, I go, and it's warm and everyone is full of sympathy for my day. This other actor apologizes to me and we hug it out. It's really nice, but I just still feel garbage. And then, we notice people are starting to disappear, but their stuff is still here, and we realize they're slowly sneaking into the theater, something that we had all never done before. And so, we follow them. When we walk in, it's dark and lit only by the ghost light. The ceilings are tall, but now they look like a cathedral ceiling. And it's quiet, a quiet that audiences never get to hear. It's magic.
And then, the birthday boy says to one of the seasoned members of the cast, “What I want for my birthday more than anything else is for you to sing us a song right now. But here's the thing. I want you to give it 100%. I want you to give it a full go.” And he says, “No, no, no, no, no.” “But okay, okay. Finally, for your birthday. All right, I'll do it.” And so, we all get up on the stage and sit together and holding each other. We look up at him in his sweatpants and stocking feet on this stage, and he closes his eyes and he sings, “For the first time in my life, I am not outside the moment.” The walls of this theater know exactly what to do with this voice.
The sound lifts up and takes us with it. And suddenly, we're all just theater kids again as this song fills the room. And for the second time that night, I'm crying. But this time, it's because I know I am a part of this, and I have been the whole time and I just couldn't see it. When it's over, we erupt in applause and then we do my favorite thing in the world, which is we linger. [audience laughter] It's impossible to leave this theater. I stay, and I stay and I stay in this theater that hours ago, I had fled. I thought it was rejecting me. And here, it was just holding me tight.
Listen, the whole rest of the run, I never went on. But that night, as I left the stage door for the final time, I thought about the day and everything that had happened. I said out loud to the early morning air on the last day of the year that this, without a doubt, will always be one of the greatest days of my entire career. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Jay Allison: [00:06:56] That was Sam Bolen. Sam is an actor, singer and writer living in Brooklyn with a cat named James Taylor. He co-created the musical Midnight at The Never Get and the Red Ribbon Revue, a showcase of HIV positive artists. And it celebrates the work of those lost to AIDS. Sam moonlights as the Instagram manager for his family's candy store in his hometown of Duluth, Minnesota.
Our next story comes from another GrandSLAM. This one from the other coast. Meg Ferrill told this in San Francisco, where we partnered with Public Radio Stations KALW and KQED. A note that Meg's bio that night read, Meg Ferrill was curious if anyone reads these bios, feel free to scream, I love you, Meg Ferrill, when she walks on stage to prove you have read this bio. So, here's Meg and her audience of admirers.
[cheers and applause]
Meg: [00:08:04] You read the bio, you follow instructions, could you get any sexier? [audience laughter] When my wife was pregnant, we jumped knee deep into planning the birth. We did this, because I'm a project manager and I'm a freaking great project manager. [audience laughter] I'm a great project manager, because I'm preprogrammed to anticipate danger. Some people just call it anxiety, but I call it my superpower. [audience laughter]
So, we jumped right into the planning. Jen wanted this birth plan, which is this document you create with your preferences for the labor. She didn't want any drugs. She wanted to hold the baby with all its wound juices intact. She was even debating eating the placenta. [audience laughter] She was going all cave woman in on this. [audience laughter] And because of a bad labor class experience, she planned on having a doula.
Now, doula to me, were mythical creatures, [audience laughter] much like fairies. I thought they could be found wherever patchouli or hemp was sold. [audience laughter] But my wife convinced me that in order for this baby not to be born into a freshly broken home, we needed a doula. [audience laughter]
And last, we took a tour of the hospital of where my wife would give birth to complete the planning. And the tour was rather uneventful. There was a tour of the facilities, a Q&A, and most importantly, they validated the parking. [audience laughter] And now, my wife hadn't felt good during the tour. In fact, she hadn't felt good since the night before, but she was also 38 weeks pregnant. It's really hard to feel good at that point. And so, now though we had found ourselves five hours after the tour had ended, and my wife was bent over sobbing in pain.
And to be clear, this was not labor. It felt like only seconds. But we moved so fast and we got to the hospital. They put us in the smallest birthing room. Our nurse hooked Jen up to a blood pressure machine and it started beeping immediately. It was beeping so loud that it actually brought in three other nurses. And our nurse looked at the machine and she said, “This is impossibly high. It must be broken,” and hooked her up to another machine. But the machines weren't broken. In fact, they thought Jen was broken.
And so, now all the nurses quickly gathered around Jen, and they were acting like one entity from one brain. They were like this octopus of sorts engulfing her. One tentacle put an IV, one tentacle took her temperature, another one put on monitors and they were moving so quickly. And the octopus was not saying anything. It didn't have to, because it was very clear that something was really wrong with her.
I just sunk back into the corner and just stood there, because there was nothing I could do. I couldn't stop this. No matter how many times I closed and opened my eyes, the octopus was still there. I was looking at my wife, who is carrying our son. And because of my superpower, all I can think is that I might lose them. I am terrified at the thought of not having another day with my wife, or even not having just one day with my son, because some tiny part of me thought that because they existed, I would be given full lifetimes with each of them.
But in this moment, it is just really clear that you're not promised a lifetime, you're not even promised a day and that each day we are living, we are just stealing from death, because death is the only thing that has been promised in this equation. I can feel the room getting smaller, because people are coming in and out, and I know that I am just in the way. And so, I leave my heart in the room and I move my body through the doorway. And as I do, I can see our doctor approaching. I know he's talked to our nurses, but this is the first time I'm seeing him. I just run to him and I say, “Will our baby be okay?” And he says, “Yes.” And I feel my lungs expand with relief.
But then, he says, “Your wife though will die if we don't take the baby out.” He ushers me back into the room, so that he can talk to both of us. But I am just in this fog of these words that he said. I can hear him telling Jen that she has severe preeclampsia, and that she needs an emergency C-section and she needs it immediately. I can hear her pleading with him to let her just push and asking him to wait for the doula. I know that she's doing this, because she has no idea what he has just said to me.
I can see that Jen is heartbroken that this is not the birth she wanted, that a C-section was not in the plan, that none of this was in the plan. I am just so angry with the plan for this illusion of control that is provided. Our doctor can tell that we are just both cracking. Jen at this birth that she's being robbed of, and me at my inability to make things right. And he just says, “Look, this is the beginning of your life as parents. There will be ups, there will be downs, and you just have to remain flexible.”
A little over two hours after we arrived in the hospital, we heard our son, Gus, cry for the first time. And we were tucked behind a curtain, so we heard him before we saw him. His cry was his first sign of him in this world. I love his cry even today, because it will always remind me of what it did then, that he's alive. And every time I look at my wife and my son, I'm reminded that we might not have a tomorrow together, but we do have a today. Maybe my superpower shouldn't be planning, maybe my superpowers should just be loving them so hard today that there is no room to plan for tomorrow.
[cheers and applause]
Jay Allison: [00:15:28] Meg Ferrill is a Portland, Oregon based storyteller, comedian and writer. We asked Meg if she's still a super planner in some arenas or if this experience significantly changed her in all aspects of her life. She told us, “I think planning is part of who I am. Children have forced me to let go of the idea that a plan's ultimate goal is to be realized perfectly. I now use a plan as a directional tool like a compass. It gets me motivated and headed in the right direction, but leaves room for the beauty and unavoidable existence of surprise.”
In a moment, two stories from a period of life that is filled with teachable moments. Teenagehood, when the Moth Radio Hour continues.
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX.
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Jay Allison: [00:17:01] This is The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm your host Jay Allison. In this episode, the ways we gain wisdom.
Our next story was told by Grace Topinka at one of our open-mic StorySLAMs in Chicago, where we partner with public radio station WBEZ. Here's Grace, live from Lincoln Hall.
[cheers and applause]
Grace: [00:17:25] When I was 16, I decided that I wanted to learn how to drive stick shift, because I thought it would make me cooler. Also, stick shift cars tend to be cheaper. I had this fear that if I was ever kidnapped and the only getaway vehicle was like a six speed Jeep Liberty, I should know how to drive it. [audience laughter] I was thinking about this, because my parents had told me that they were going to get me a car, because my dad and I had both started new jobs, and our schedules were just like so crazy that they decided it needed to happen. This was a very important time in my life, because I was 16 years old and I wanted to prove that I was independent and capable, and having a car was like a huge part of that.
I was a pretty confident driver. I felt like I was a good driver and a quick learner. So, I was like, “Oh, stick shift? That should be easy.” Not to mention my dad and the used car salesman were like, “Oh, driving stick is easy. The hardest part is just getting the car in first gear. After that, everything's basically the same.” I was like, “Cool. That sounds cool.” And then, I learned that [audience laughter] getting the car in first gear means making the car move [audience laughter] at all. So, I feel like they really downplayed the importance of being able to do that. [audience laughter]
So, my dad took me to this quiet street in my neighborhood. The first thing he taught me was how to go in reverse. It's not that hard to reverse in a stick shift. It's basically the same as in a regular car. So, I got that really quick. I was like, “Wow, I'm amazing at this.” [audience laughter] And he was like, “Great. Now, we have to go forward.” He basically taught me it's all about the balance. You have to release the clutch and push down on the gas pedal, but with perfect timing and balance. He seemed to think that I could just feel it, because he could just feel it. He had learned how to dry stick 45 years ago. [audience laughter]
So, 45 minutes passed, and I had not felt anything. [audience laughter] I could not get this car to move if my life depended on it. The worst part was that, because I kept having to restart the car, my dad was like, “We should turn off the AC, because it's not good for the AC to be turning on and off,” which is the most dad thing ever. [audience laughter] But this was in Miami in 87-degree weather. [audience laughter] So, we were sweating bullets. I was crying. I was so frustrating. I was like, “Is there a return policy on a car? I can't drive this.”
My dad was trying to make me feel better. He was like, “Grace, millions of people drive stick shift every day.” [audience laughter] And I was like, “Great. I'm so happy for them.” [audience laughter] He was like, “If you drive this car half a block, I'll drive you home.” So, I put the car in reverse, and reverse half a block [audience laughter] and he drove me home. That is basically how all of our driving lessons went. And then, we got to a point where I had a car that I could only drive backwards, [audience laughter] but I had places to go, and so did my dad. So, he very graciously switch cars with me.
This was fine. But I felt bad, because my car was considerably crappier than my dad's car. But then, I felt really bad when I was driving my dad's car and I got into a car accident. This was my first and only car accident, and it was a minor fender bender. No one was hurt, but I still had to call my dad and be like, “Hey, you know that car that you're letting me borrow? Do you like it with or without scratches on the front bumper?” [audience laughter]
No. But really, I felt so guilty, because my parents had sacrificed a lot to get me this car, and my dad had sacrificed a lot of time and a lot of sweat to try to teach me how to drive it. I just couldn't. I felt all that confidence and independence I had felt just melted away. I felt so young, and stupid and in over my head. But I decided that if I was going to be rear ending people, I was going to learn how to do it in my own car. [audience laughter]
So, my dad and I went out anytime we could. Because of our schedules, it was usually at like 06:00 AM before school or 0 o’clock at night. We would very painfully inch around my neighborhood. I was slowly improving, and my dad was very patient with me. And then, he realized something that changed everything. He was like, “You're being too hesitant on the gas pedal. That's why the car keeps stalling. Just give it way more gas than you think you need, and the tires will squeal. It will not be smooth at all, but the car will be moving and you'll be in first gear and then the rest is easy.”
That worked. [audience laughter] I was squealing like crazy. If I was going from a dead stop at a red light, it sounded like I was in NASCAR, even though I was going two miles an hour. [audience laughter] Kids in my high school knew me in the parking lot, because I'd be squealing out of a parking space. [audience laughter] But after a week and a half, I officially became one of the millions of people who drive stick shift every day. I know in that context, it doesn't sound that impressive, but I was really, really proud of myself.
That whole kidnapping situation, thankfully hasn't happened. But there have been at least two times where it's come in handy that I knew how to drive stick shift, so I guess it's been worth it. But now I know anytime, when I face a challenge or I have to do something that I'm really terrible at, I remember that it can be easy to go backwards or to reverse and keep doing the things that you're used to doing. But sometimes in life, if you want to move forward, you just got to slam on that gas pedal. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Jay Allison: [00:22:55] See, I told you there would be life lessons. Grace Topinka is from Miami, but has been living in Chicago for 10 years. She is the cohost of Two Girls One Crossword, a weekly trivia podcast for people who are bad at trivia. You can find her crocheting at home or on escape room leaderboards across the city. Grace tells us that while her current car is automatic, she can confirm that driving a stick is like riding a bike and you never forget it.
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Next up is Michael Maina who told our next story at a Moth Mainstage in Nairobi, Kenya. The show was produced in 2021 during the pandemic, and was live streamed all over the world. Social distancing restrictions kept the in-person audience at the Kenya National Theater to a minimum, but the tiny crowd was a mighty one. Here's Michael.
[cheers and applause]
Michael: [00:23:56] I was 13 years old in my first month of high school. I was both excited and nervous. There were two main differences between primary school and high school. The first was this was a boarding Christian school. They had very many strict rules we had to adhere to. The second difference was that it was an all-boys school. There were no girls at all.
This difference was a bit weird as during primary school, boys and girls never really interacted a lot. Even during break time or recess, they really played separately and nobody paid much attention to the other gender. However, as soon as girls were taken away, all that we could talk about as boys was girls. It was as if absence had made our hearts grow fond of them.
At this time, we had the opportunity to host an inter-high school coeducational sporting event. There were girls coming to our school. Every person was excited. Just to give you a picture, boys in our school didn't adhere to the highest standards of hygiene. They'd stayed days without taking a shower. They'd wear the same uniform. However, on this morning, there was even a line to the showers. People were wearing new uniforms, ironed, everyone was pick and span.
So, finally, the event started and I went to the basketball court. I took my seat in the stands. And as soon as I sat down, there's a girl who caught my eye. She was in a black jersey with a ponytail, black necklace and black earrings. She was gorgeous. As soon as I saw her play, the elegance with which she dribbled the ball and made the important points made me more enamored with her. I decided I have to talk to her.
Unfortunately, her team was eliminated during the semifinals, and my friend told me, “This is your chance. She's by herself. If you don't go, another guy will.” I was scared, but I mustered up my courage. I walked up to her. While walking, we made eye contact, and she smiled at me. This emboldened me and introduced myself. I found out her name was Sharon, and we had so much in common.
First, we stayed in the same neighborhood. We had the same taste in books, same taste in movies and we shared the same sense of humor. We spoke for hours and hours, and we didn't even notice the time flying by. And it was time for her to leave. I tried to get her contacts, but she didn't have a paper where she could write her phone number. I thought, oh, I'll never get to see her again. But she took my form and wrote her number there. I was so excited.
That evening, during prep time, all I could think about was Sharon. What's Sharon doing? Is she thinking about me? Sharon is so pretty. We were supposed to meet up during the holidays and have a date. I was thinking about what we were going to do, and I realized I have absolutely no idea. Something about our culture, is that people don't teach you about dating or relationships between boys and girls. Not your teachers, not your parents. You figure it out for yourself.
So, I decided, why not ask my classmates? So, I told them about Sharon. They were super excited in cheering me on. And so, I asked them, so, what should I do during the first date? My friends were like, “You live in the same neighborhood?” “Yeah,” “So, invite her over when nobody's at home. When she comes, make the moves on her and have sex with her.” I was like, “What?” Mind you, we were all 13-year-olds, virgins who knew nothing about sex. They were telling me to go all the way with her.
I thought the advice was a bit fishy. But after this conversation, I started having sexual thoughts about Sharon, and I didn't really know what to do about it. I decided I need more advice, now an adult's point of view. We had a school counselor who also served as the school chaplain. I walked to his office, and knocked just after lunch and he opened the door. He was this huge, imposing guy with a very stern face. He wasn't the most approachable person, but I had a problem and I needed advice.
So, I sat down and told him about Sharon, how wonderful she was, how I couldn't stop thinking about her. I also told him about the sexual thoughts I've been having. As soon as he heard the word sexual, his face contorted and he gave me such a stern glare. I tried to look up to avoid eye contact, but I just saw Jesus on the cross staring disapprovingly at me. I looked down, and the pastor opened the Bible and he told me, “Sex before marriage is a sin. Even thinking about sex is a sin. That these thoughts are coming from the devil. At my age, I know nothing about love and should ignore Sharon and focus on my studies.”
After hearing that, I felt shameful. I felt dirty. I felt that I was a sinner. I went back to class, and I vowed that I'd never think about Sharon again. However, that's not how the human mind works. The more you try not to think about something, the more it permeates into your mind. I was thinking about Sharon more than ever.
For the next two months, I wasn't paying attention in class. I was beating myself up. I was feeling guilty. And I even failed my exams. I just didn't know what to do. Then, when our holidays grew closer, we had a physics class. Something about our physics teacher, he was the coolest teacher ever. His name was Mr. Manza, or Manza Sensei, as he encouraged us to call him.
During the class, people were sleeping, because it was after lunch and it was a hot afternoon. And so, he decided to have a commercial break. He had this thing where we take a break from academics and talk about other things in life, things no other teachers will speak about, stuff like how to deal with your emotions, how to resolve family problems and how to go through school even if you don't like it. And so, he said, “For our commercial break today, we talk about girls and sex.”
Every single boy in the class was awake at this time. And he said, “You know, when a man sees an attractive lady, you can get attracted to her and want to have sex with her.” The whole class burst out into laughter. And he added, “I also get those feelings.” We laughed even more. But at this point, I felt that he was actually addressing an issue I had. It's like he was reading my mind. So, I opened my books and started taking notes. And he said, “There's some ways that you can deal with these feelings.”
He spoke about masturbation, which he comically termed taking matters into your own hands. [audience laughter] He also talked about exercising, taking a run, playing sports or lifting weights. And finally, he spoke about something I hadn't heard before, emotional intimacy, as opposed to only physical intimacy. He spoke about the need to know someone for who they are, grow with them and love them. He also told us the importance of respecting women and building a relationship with trust. And finally, he concluded, “If all else fails, exercise, exercise, exercise.”
So, our holidays were approaching. The first thing I did when I got home was to call Sharon. I hadn't talked to her for two months. We didn't have phones in school, and I forgot to take her postal address. She might have forgotten about me. But as soon as she heard it was me, she was super excited, and it just warmed my heart. We spoke for hours on end, and we agreed to meet up tomorrow at a coffee shop.
So, I arrived 10 minutes early, because I didn't want to be late and I found her already seated there waiting for me. So, she was wearing a blue dress, blue earrings and her hair looked fantastic. She was super gorgeous. I just stood there unable to move, as if petrified. But she walked towards me, she gave me a hug and she smelled so lovely. I was like, “I'm the luckiest guy in the world.”
We sat down, had a conversation and enjoyed ourselves. And then, she looked at me carefully and was like, “You're a bit different from the last time I saw you. You actually look more fit.” And I told her, “Thank you, I've been exercising a lot.” Thank you very much.
[cheers and applause]
[whimsical music]
Jay Allison: [00:33:10] Michael Maina is a graduate of The Moth Global Community Program. He's also a medical doctor and patient health advocate with a focus on accessible patient centered care in low resource settings. With a background in sexual and reproductive rights, and justice and a commitment to lifelong learning, Michael says, he tries to leverage his skills to make a tangible impact on global health and inspire change through compelling narratives.
Mr. Manza's advice had enduring impact on Michael's relationship with women. He told us that, “By emphasizing the importance of genuine interest and empathy, I've been able to cultivate meaningful and deep connections, both in platonic and romantic contexts.” To see young Michael in his class photo, visit themoth.org.
In a moment, a woman attempts to lead by example and ends up with valuable knowledge for herself in the process, when The Moth Radio Hour Continues.
[whimsical music]
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX. You're listening to The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Jay Allison.
We've reached our final story in this show, and therefore our final life lesson. You ready? Anh Vu Sawyer told this story at a Mainstage we produced in partnership with the Hanover Theater in Worcester, Massachusetts. Here's Anh.
[cheers and applause]
Anh: [00:35:22] I am the executive director at the Southeast Asian Coalition of Central Massachusetts here in Worcester. [audience cheers and applause]
My organization serves more than 10,000 client visits annually from immigrants and refugees from Asia, and from all over the world. We also served 150 youth who are at risk and low income. One day in April 2018, I invited Pam Proctor, one of my best friends, my mentor, and also a well-known college application consultant, I invite her to come to my organization to give her pro bono advice to the youth, how to write a good essay for their college applications. There were about 24 kids showed up and some of them brought their little siblings.
Pam told the youth, “You guys are perfect candidates for good colleges. Even Ivy League schools, you are straight A in your AP classes. You are first duration that will go to college. You are multicultural, multilingual. What do you think?” The youth said, “We're not good enough. We're too poor. Our parents need us around. Ivy League schools? Nah.” They rolled their eyes, struck their shoulder.
Watching the youth turning down opportunities like this ached me, but it pained me even more because I saw myself in these kids. Growing up in Vietnam during the war and then became a Vietnamese refugee in this country, I know firsthand what being poor was like. In all of my life, I've seen poverty all around me. I've seen the children of American soldiers and sex workers begging for food in the street of Saigon. Some of them even had to sell their body for food.
In 1999, I did a public health project in a province outside of Hanoi. A mom came to me with a tiny little infant and a two-year-old son. She thrust the infant into my arms, crying, “Miss, Miss, I beg you, please take the baby. I cannot feed him. If I feed him, her brother will starve.” Before, I could do anything, the police and security guard just appeared from nowhere, swamped us, yanked away the screaming mother and the children. I was warned that if I take the baby, I would be arrested, because what the mother did was illegal.
So, poverty rob us the dignity of our humanity. It makes us afraid to make big dreams. I thought of the youth, I understand them. So, seeing all of these things that broke my heart for a long time. I always wanted to figure out how to eradicate sufferings. It's such a big thing to dream about, but I couldn't help.
I love to follow stories in the life of Nobel Prize recipients who came up with ideas about how to eradicate poverty on a global scale. I also found out that many of them came from MIT. I always wonder how MIT's methodologies and advanced framework would help them to have a big picture and being able to solve these very complex issues. Going to MIT became my dream for the longest time.
So, with this fervent desire burning hot within me for four decades, I didn't pursue for MIT. I did not feel worthy. So, that day, in front of Pam and all of the kids, I declared, “If I am at 64 years old, apply to MIT with no money, 0% chance I will get accepted. Shame on you for not trying.” “Oh, auntie, do it, do it. If you do it, we will also do it. We will apply to some fancy schools too.” They laugh, they clapped their hands and then they headed to where the food was. [audience laughter]
I didn't know that I had only a few weeks before the deadline of MIT MBA program application. I was also told that there were four essay questions that have the most weight. “That's easy. I love to write.” That's what I thought. But little did I know that those were the most difficult essays I had to write. Up to this point, having spent decades taking care of my families and others. And I also grew up and lived in an environment of quite very conservative.
So, as a woman, I was taught not to be so ambitious. I had never asked myself what I selfishly with one for myself. But writing the essay for MIT made me confront myself honestly for the first time and publicly. So, finally, I was able to submit my application a few hours before the deadlines. I tried very hard not to think about what MIT going to respond, but I fervently pray, “Oh dear God, may I please be accepted.” A month later, I got a phone call. “Anh, congratulations, you are accepted into the MIT Sloan School of Management Class of 2020.” [audience applause]
I called the youth right away and told them the news. I expected them to be jumping up and down being happy for me, but all I got was, “Oh, cool.” [audience laughter] I almost want to call them back and say, “Hey, kids, come back, come back. I did this for you.” But it was such a thrill for me to know that I will be going to MIT and learning all of the amazing things that the Nobel Prize recipients learned about what they could do to help the world. How am I going to pay for that? How am I going to do that with my full-time job that I only spend 10 hours to 12 hours every day didn't register yet? [audience laughter]
Until a week later, MIT email starts rolling in with tuition, registration fee, etc., etc. But I couldn't back out of this challenge. The challenge stopped at me applying at MIT. But if I did not go there, I would admit that we could not dream big dreams. So, I called my own three children up and I say, “Kiddos, your mom is doing a very crazy thing at 64 years old. I'm going to MIT and there won't be any money left for you.” [audience laughter] [audience applause]
“Oh mom, we are so happy for you. We're so proud of you. You have to do it.” “Thank you, kids.” I registered for my classes and started school in October 2018. I prayed fervently every day, “Oh dear God, please help me with money for tuition.” I almost sold my house twice. I remember sitting on a long bench in front of MIT financial aid office pondering the conversation that we just had a few minutes before that, “You have exhausted all of your scholarship.”
But thank God, with the scholarships, I was able to refinance my house at a very low interest rate. I cashed out my meager retirement fund. Pam sent me a monthly check. My MIT classmate surprised me with her check. And a dear friend, Danielle, who was almost as poor as a church mouse, sent me $50. Thank God, I didn't have to sell my house. And the youth, they were believing that my dreams were coming true.
I really enjoy my classmates and my professors. They're coming from all over the world. I learned so much from them, but I didn't have money to pay for the wonderful meals and excursions that they went. I normally would come early, leave early and I would order very little, but still I thrive at MIT. I absolutely love my professors and my classmates.
My classmate was so flabbergasted that I never heard of fintech, bitcoin or crypto whatsoever. [audience laughter] So, with work-work school work, class times and living through a very difficult pandemic time with COVID 19, I had about four hours of sleep, average a day. No vacation, no day off. On May 2020, I graduated from MIT Sloan School of Management, the most difficult school in the world. [audience applause]
This was the best decision I made in my 60s, and it was one of the best decisions I made in my whole life. The youth who challenged me, all of them applied for college and all went to college. Six of them were accepted at Ivy League schools. [audience cheers and applause]
The challenge, the double dare of the challenge inspired the kids to embrace higher education. But I didn't realize that it was the very best, the incredible gift I had given myself. The experience of being at MIT have shown me who I really am, that I still can dream. It opened many opportunities. It opened many doors.
I have a startup with my husband and two of my MIT classmates that we hope will bring economic development to immigrants and refugees overseas and in the US. I'm also working on a second startup that target food insecurity. So, at this stage of my life, at the age of 67, I still can dream. As I grow older, my dream becomes more complete every day. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Jay Allison: [00:48:04] That was Anh Vu Sawyer. Anh tells us that the students who dared her to apply for MIT back in 2018 have all gone on to college. Some have even started their own nonprofit organizations and have made amazing social impacts. Anh and her family left Saigon in Vietnam when they were evacuated from the American Embassy Rooftop in 1975. For three decades, Anh has worked with immigrants and refugees and declared herself a Daughter of the World. Anh received her MBA from MIT and is a Harvard Advanced Leadership Initiative fellow.
Anh's nonprofit cooperatives without Borders provides micro loans and stipends for women refugees to start their own cooperatives using weaving and embroidery skills in the US and overseas. They produce components of Anh's other venture, which uses sustainable clothing for ecologically minded consumers. Anh would like to acknowledge that Jennie Zamberlan, who was a year ahead of her at MIT, raised some funding to help Anh pay for her tuition.
That's it for this episode. We hope you derived some life lessons and that you'll join us next time. And that's the story from The Moth.
[overture music]
This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, Catherine Burns and Meg Bowles. Coproducer is Vicki Merrick. Associate producer, Emily Couch. Stories were directed by Larry Rosen with additional GrandSLAM coaching by Chloe Salmon and Maggie Cino.
The rest of The Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin Jenness Jennifer Hixson, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Klutse, Lee Ann Gullie, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Sarah Jane Johnson and Aldi Kaza. The Moth Global Community Program is generously supported by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. Moth stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers.
Our theme music is by the Drift. Other music in this hour from Evan Christopher, Julian Lage, The Style Council, Michael Hedges and William Tyler. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts.
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.