Arjun Nelabhotla shares his experience volunteering and helping a former jazz singer.
I used to think helping meant doing. Every Sunday, I’d volunteer at Emile’s house, powering through his checklist like a machine. Groceries ordered online in minutes. Paperwork filed efficiently. I’d leave feeling productive, like I’d made a difference. One afternoon, Emile, a former jazz singer told me, “You need to be more observant.” I was confused. Wasn’t I handling everything he needed?
The following week revealed what he meant. I walked into his kitchen and found a newspaper spread open — the high school basketball section on top. The pages crinkled as he smoothed them flat. “I saved this for you,” Emile said, remembering my passion for basketball. He pulled out an old photo of his high school team. “Guess which one is me?” he asked, regaling me with stories. While I’d been rushing through his life like a to-do list, he’d been paying attention to mine. He had been collecting small things he thought might bring me joy. A jazz record he’d covered. An article about Indian food.
These weren’t responses to requests; they were gifts from someone who’d been thinking about me when I wasn’t there. Then, I understood what he meant about being observant. I wanted to show him that he mattered to me, the way he’d shown I mattered to him. I started arriving differently. Writing down medical appointment addresses before he asked.
Asking about his week first, not his needs. Our Sunday rhythm became less about efficiency and more about the pleasure of cooking together while the Golden State Warriors played. This lesson followed me around. When my animated chemistry lab partner became withdrawn, I recognized struggle behind her silence.