I was the college student who joined everything she could get her hands on. My resume grew, I had a great group of friends, I put a lot of time into my grades – everything fit.

Last year, I began to realize just how much I did in college was for my own benefit. I hoped to get good grades and get into graduate school; I practiced so that I could be better; I thirsted for leadership skills to network and learn organizational development; I got involved and met people to create a family away from home.

These were great things, but looking back, everything began with the letter “I”. It was time to step away from my world. So, I applied for the Ignacio volunteer trip to Jamaica. It quickly became the organization I prioritized that semester. After weekly meetings and preparation, I felt ready to take on Kingston, Jamaica. I hoped that by going there I could at least touch the life of one person. What I didn’t realize was how much the Jamaican people could inspire me.

I recall a blind woman missing half of her legs and sitting in a wheelchair. I didn’t think she would react to my approach, but immediately she began singing, dancing and speaking with me – a complete stranger – with incredible enthusiasm.

I remember another blind woman who thought she was alone in a cold corner of a nursing home. After a friend and I began talking and singing to her, she praised God and began to cry, realizing she was not alone.

I remember women who, although they were at a home for the “destitute and dying,” sat around chatting like a group of girlfriends gossiping about their daily lives.

I remember a homeless man who knew more about the United States’ current events than some Americans.

I remember a student who, when asked what she wanted for Christmas, asked only for books to pass her seventh grade entrance exam.

I remember Savion, a man to whom I asked the same question, said that he hoped to be a policeman and make his country a better place.

These students would stay at school during lunch because they did not have food at home, attended school barefoot because they did not have a pair of shoes, or came to class late, not because they overslept or took too long to get ready, but because a shooting at 2 a.m. kept them from being able to leave home.

These people moved me – their resources were less than a quarter of ours, yet they had dreams, ambitions, humor, intelligence and dignity.

Going to Kingston allowed me to see how lucky I was as a college student, and because of that, how important it became for me to give back, even if it meant that I would get something in return.

Marlena Dzis is a music education senior. She can be reached at [email protected].