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Rotary Magazine

The Accidental Rotarian

by M. Irene Daniel

I like to call myself the "accidental Rotarian" because I never imagined myself as a member of this club. I had heard of Rotary, but I didn't think it would be a good fit for me. For you see, I am proud to say that I am a second-generation Mexican-American, whose family was one of many lifted out of poverty forever by Lyndon Johnson's "Great Society." We are life-long Democrats, a preference unlikely to change any time soon, or probably -- ever. Consequently, I imagined that, not only would I not have much in common with Rotarians and nothing much to talk about, but that I would not be welcomed or encouraged by this group of people.

So how is it, then, that I am in my second year on the Board of Directors of the Pasadena Rotary Club, one of the largest in the nation, at the invitation of my fellow Rotarians? Well, that's where my adventures in Rotary begin.

I attended my first Rotary meeting at the invitation of my dear friend, who would become my Rotary sponsor, Kathleen O'Sullivan.   Even though I didn't think there was anything especially in it for me, I wanted to be supportive of my friend, who would no doubt get a toaster or something for bringing me to the meeting, right? I met a number of people that day, most of whom I do not specifically recall, with the exception of David Mans. (And who can argue that David is one of the most exceptional people we are privileged to have among us?) I'm not sure what happened. I don't remember the program or most of the people; but something about this dynamic group piqued my curiosity. Moreover, contrary to my initial notions, I was not only welcomed, but encouraged and invited to join! I had to know more. I decided to give it a try for a year and see what might happen.

Throughout my first year in Rotary, I met a number of people, many who are now dear friends of mine. I was invited to join the RYLA committee and the rest, as they say, is history. Toward the end of my first year as a Rotarian, I participated in the RYLA week-end as a facilitator. To any of my fellow Rotarians who have not experienced RYLA:  you are missing out! I learned so much about Rotary, about leadership and about young people, that I continue to go back every year that my schedule permits. I met a whole new bevy of Rotarians at the District level, who I am glad to see again every year at RYLA, as well as at other District 5300 leadership programs. Mostly I learned that the world is not going to hell in a hand-basket!! The future is in good hands. I know because I have seen it and heard what it has to say in the faces and voices of our RYLA awardees. I am motivated to work with them to not leave them such a colossal mess. They deserve the better world that they are already busy creating.

So that brings me to my current project – Rotaract! We at Pasadena Rotary are on the cusp of sponsoring our first Rotaract Club. We hope this is the first of many Rotaract Clubs, and perhaps New Generations Clubs, that we sponsor, work with, and encourage in the near and distant future. Today's youth are very motivated and eager to get involved with the needs of their communities; to do whatever needs doing. While their financial resources may be somewhat limited (I remember lots of ramen noodles when I was in college), they have fresh legs and young muscles ready and willing to "get their hands dirty," so to speak. They already see past themselves. While I find all of this very inspiring, it's also somewhat embarrassing to admit that I flatter myself to think that I can keep up with them, much less get a step or two ahead them. The future is in good hands.

So now it seems there is no escaping Rotary for me; no escaping RI's influence on me; and no escaping the myriad possibility there is to be found in Rotary International. Every single Wednesday afternoon I get to walk into a great big room in a swanky hotel and experience a cornucopia of opportunity – to be of service, to learn about my community, to fellowship and catch up with friends and to just enjoy a meal with some of the best people I know.

The true essence of what Rotary means to me can best be demonstrated with a memory from my college days at Arizona State. I used to ride my bike to school and every day I passed by 'Bob's Tire Corral.' This tire vendor on the main drag of Mesa, Arizona, was not much to look at; an unpaved lot with a bunch of tires stacked around, a covered carport area, and a small edifice that served as an office. That was it – tires and dirt; but if you were looking for a serious truck or heavy-equipment tire for the lowest price – Bob's was the place to go. The thing I always noticed about Bob's, however, is that every single National Holiday, Bob was flying a huge American flag.

Now, as I've already explained, Bob was not one to spend much more than 2 nickels on overhead, but he did not scrimp when it came to his flag. The reason I know this is because one of my most vivid and dynamic memories is of the day I actually touched that flag. I was riding home from class on Election Day, 1984. It was, as usual, a beautiful, sunny day in the Valley of the Sun, and Bob's flag was gently waving in the cool November breeze. I usually try to take Election Day off so that I can work for my candidate, and so I was off to spend the rest of the day doing just that. As I approached Bob's Tire Corral, I simply could not resist the impulse to reach out and touch that flag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a heavy-set older man, bald and dressed in a dirty T-shirt, coming out of the office. What must he have been thinking? "Hippie, keep your meat-hooks off my flag!" However, as I reached out to caress Old Glory between my fingertips, our eyes met. I smiled in appreciation of his ritual, and he smiled at me.

Now, as well you might imagine, Bob, a small business owner in a very conservative community, and me, a young liberal college student – well, we probably cancelled out each other's vote that day. But that's not really what matters. What matters is that we both participated. In that instant -- which could not have lasted more than 2-3 seconds but will live in my soul forever – we were not Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, young or old, Mexican or Caucasian, male or female. We were just 2 Americans celebrating the specialness of our great nation.

I recall this memory often to remind myself that those things that divide us and make us seem different from one another, can never, never, ever, overpower that which we have in common. That's why I'm a Rotarian. How about you?