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Greyson Powell
Cris Longhurst
Eng 1010
September 15, 2015
Struggling to understand
Education never was my greatest target as a kid nor as a teenager. I wouldve
rather played some mindless video game or even sleeping sounded better. I went
through many years of schooling not really trying but passing my classes. Avoiding
homework and passing tests. My view of education since then has changed so
much. There is a great joy I now have in learning, something that comes from my
deepest beliefs.
In March of 2013 I received a very special letter. As I read out loud it began
Dear Elder Powell: You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to serve in the Wisconsin
Milwaukee mission. My friends whispered all around as I sat there a little confused.
I had never thought about going to Americas dairyland. I didnt even know exactly
where in the United States it was. To bust me out of my own confusion my friend
Christy asked in a joking question, so what language will you be speaking? and to
that we all gave a nice little chuckle. I assume that most people have heard of
Wisconsin, known for cheese, beer, and brats. A Midwestern state, so clearly my
mind turns to speaking English. I continued to read You will prepare to preach the
gospel in the Spanish language. The sounds from my friends this time was more of
a gasp, a shock and surprise. I didnt know anyone spoke Spanish in Wisconsin. I

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was supposed to prepare to leave the 26th of June to begin this new chapter of my
life. Only three months left of my senior year in front of me before that time to head
out.
This really set my mind in a spiral, my education seemed so much more
important after that letter. Now I was expected to learn a new language. After so
many years of not really trying but making it past I was expected to learn Spanish.
Graduation time came and 20 days later I walked into the Missionary Training
Center in Provo. A 20 day respite only to leave my mother and father crying as I set
to a task that I felt was nearly impossible. I suppose my faith was not what it should
have been. I knew that if I was left alone I could not achieve this goal.
For six weeks I sat with my new friends as people spoke Spanish at us, a
bunch of nonsense. I wish I could tell you what they said, but I had no idea. My
friends seemed to be able to say so much more, yet the words just seemed to fall
out of my mouth like a bucket of nails. Day after day I was surrounded by this
sound, told to speak, read and understand. I remember barely learning how to
introduce myself by reading of the name tag of my companion. A stutter of words
that sounded like I was the whitest guy in the history of Spanish speakers. Six
weeks of day in and day out struggle to say any simple phrase. After the great but
excruciating time the most eventful day transpired, then journey to Wisconsin itself.
We flew through the night and 36 hours of staying awake I was there. I was in
a new land, that seemed to inhabit humans that breathed water I was lucky that
they still spoke English but they wanted me to go out of that bubble and speak to
Hispanic people. My first companion in Wisconsin was a very intelligent man who
was from Pachuca, Hidalgo. We struggled together, We would hardly speak Spanish

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together because he still was trying to learn English. Because of that I learned to
love my personal time to study. Every day we had the opportunity to study three
hours. The third hour was a time for language study. I struggled so much, I am sure I
cried many times, though I would prefer not to confess how often. We would visit so
many people and it was embarrassing as they looked at me expecting me to speak
their language I would stutter and stumble, making a fool of myself. After my
excruciating sentences they would spit out all sorts of sounds that supposedly it
meant something. After almost all conversations I would have a questions for Elder
Jimenez such as What does Monday mean? and he would be so confused. Of
course I tried to explain that almost every person we spoke to always asked me
Monday? Elder Jimenez now understood, and explained that they did not say
Monday but they said mande which is the word Mexicans used to ask as we do
What? Or what did you say, to be more exact. Every conversation was a
struggle. I wanted so badly just to know and understand all these people we met.
All I wanted was to learn this language. I never cared so much to learn
anything as much as I wanted to understand. I threw myself into my grammar book,
dictionary and a Spanish copy of my scriptures. That special hour everyday became
a sacred experience. Eventually after a struggle of six months of church meetings
every week where I hardly understood the lessons, or the hours of study I put in and
the hundreds of people with whom I had spoken, my newest companion and I
received a call. I was called to leave the city of Kenosha where there was a Spanish
branch of the church to go to the bustling populace of Chilton. The grand city of less
than 4000 people. This change of venue was all due to a man named Nacho who
had recently joined the church. He unfortunately spoke no English and the

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missionary I was going to be with spoke no Spanish. After all my struggles and hours
of study under my belt, I was alone to talk to this man.
My studies improved so much more as I had no companion to be there at my
aid. My first couple of visits with Nacho was a horrifying realization that I understood
almost nothing. Nacho asked to talk to someone who actually spoke his language,
which hurt me. After months of dedicated practice and learning I failed, I could not
do what was expected of me. I was told as a fourteen year old kid that I would be
blessed with a desire to learn. At the moment when I was told by Nacho that I
couldnt speak Spanish is when my desire began changed from me wanting to learn
for selfish reasons to a desire to help the people I would come across. I enveloped
myself daily into Spanish, in the lessons we would teach I would struggle and look
pleadingly to my companion only to see his confused expression, so I continued to
struggle and stumble through whatever sentences I could muster. I was able to
communicate beyond my own limits and people began to understand me. It was a
miracle.
By the end of six months in Chilton I was again reassigned to another area.
This time I would go to Madison, my companion would be speaking Spanish with
me. This time I was ready, I had learned how to study effectively, I had prepared
myself to be a helpmeet for other people. I cared about why I was learning and
growing more than I did in figuring out how to learn. I know that I changed so much
in my time in Wisconsin, before I did not care to learn but I looked to be entertained.
I now seek to better myself in order to be of aid to others. I finally began to
understand this scripture And as all have not faith, seek ye diligently and teach one
another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek
learning, even by study and also by faith. As it is found in Doctrine & Covenants

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88:118. My education is anchored into my deepest beliefs, which lead me to think
first of others, and that is when you succeed. This is what makes my education
important.