I live in the Mojave Desert of Southern California.
Among the beautiful sunsets, exotic desert landscapes, and sun-filled environments, live a whole lot of Jackrabbits.
Jackrabbits are peculiar animals. Most nights, it isn’t uncommon to see at least three or four of them scurry into your headlights before realizing they’ve made a grave mistake. They quickly turn around and jump back into the desert landscape of Joshua trees and mustard weeds.
But there are those few brave rabbits that instigate a game of “Chicken.”
The ones that see the headlights and stare, much like a deer except much smaller and whole lot cuter. You silently think, “Oh no bunny! Run away! Stop looking at me and run! I might hit you,” but they don’t flinch a single muscle.
“No, no stupid human. You’re going to move for me.”
Ultimately, I cave and swerve away from the rabbit as I watch its ears hop along the horizon of the bushes.
“You win again, Jack. You always do.”
It is at this crucial point in my life that I feel very much like those brave little Jackrabbits. I am staring a huge obstacle in its face and telling it, “No, no. You’ll move if I tell you to move.” Being a classical clarinetist for a majority of my life, I’ve learned to never back down from a challenge, even if it means humiliating myself. There are those rabbits who see the dangers of failure, the headlights, the mechanical girth and inner workings of the car, and refuse to budge.
Ok, so I’m not necessarily putting my life on the line to join Teach For America, but about 460 children are putting their education in my hands. Seems just as significant.
Let’s just hope I don’t get ran over.