This is a story about the little “I Am Worth Waiting For!” pin that has become the Positively Waiting! trademark.
A young person can only receive a pin if they are willing to proclaim publicly, “I’m worth waiting for until I get married!” That’s the only way. (For those of you who are skeptical, lets just say, it’s a very big deal. Students will line up and be late for their next class to make this pledge.)
But this is a story about one special pin.
On the first day in this particular classroom, after the message about the positive reasons to save sex for marriage, an African-American student, about 18 years old, hung around the fringe of those waiting to pledge for their pins. While I was giving out pins, I could hear him talking about how he had no plans to stop having sex. It would be too hard, and besides, HE was responsible.
When most of the other students were gone, he paused for a second near me, as if he might change his mind, then said, “Nah, man, I’m not doin’ this. I’d be lying to ya,” and started out the door. I put my hand on his arm, looked up into his face and told him, “Thanks for not lying to me. It takes a man to do that.” He smiled, gave that little jerk of the chin that teenagers do, then strolled out of the class.
The next day, same class, the teacher requested I discuss abortion procedures and risks. After class, as often happens, several students came up to me after class. After thinking things over, they had made a decision and wanted to know if I had any “I Am Worth Waiting For!” pins left.
The same young black man hung out with this smaller group. He told me he was surprised, and had no idea abortion had so many risks. But he still thought if his girl got pregnant, he would want her to abort. “I’d tell her, ya know, wait til I get out of school and have my ‘ball career goin’.”
So I said, “OK, let’s talk about that for a minute. That says something about you. What you’re saying is ‘Nothing can get in the way of my career. It’s more important than you or our baby.’ ”
He looked startled, and said, “No, I’m saying that it would be better to wait til I have the money and can take care of her and the kid.”
“But,” I said, “if you’re not willing to stop having sex, which would eliminate the risk, you can say whatever you want, but you’re actions say you’re the kind of guy who’d sacrifice his own child if it gets in the way of what he wants.
That was a new idea for him. We talked for a while about how our choices determine our character, and it got him thinking about if his choices were going to make him the kind of man he wanted to be. When he left, he was looking thoughtful and challenged.
As I was leaving the campus, I ran into him again. Walking along with me, he said I’d gotten him thinking. He remarked, “Abortion seems wrong ...until it happens to you.”
So I asked him, “Isn’t right always right and wrong always wrong?”
He said, “Sure, but it would still be hard.”
I said, “Yes it would be, but that’s the difference between men and boys. Men can make a tough decision, boys take the easy way out.” He said, “I hear ya, I hear ya. I’m listenin’.” We parted ways again.
My third day in his classroom, I talked about what to look for when choosing a mate. At the end of this message I share a story about ordinary men who died protecting the people they loved. It often touches young men in particular, and it had a remarkable effect on my new friend.
He hung around after class once again, now dogged by several of his friends. They’d been watching our exchanges, and were razzing him pretty bad.
But it was a serious moment for both of us. He shrugged off their comments and said, “I couldn’t get what you’ve been saying out of my head, but I had to think things over. It takes some time with me, but I think I’m ready now. I think I’m ready to tell you the kind of man I want to be.” Then he looked me in the eye, and said, “I’m worth waiting for until I get married.”
It was a privilege to hand over that “I am worth waiting for” pin. My heart was in my throat when I said, “It’s been an honor to watch you grow into a man.” Then he nodded at me, gave me that little chin-jerk they do, and then walked out - it seemed to me just a little bit taller.
Maybe it took this young man three days, but ultimately he did make a decision about the kind of character he wants to have, and the kind of man he wants to be.
One pin at a time, one person at a time, it does make a difference.
A young person can only receive a pin if they are willing to proclaim publicly, “I’m worth waiting for until I get married!” That’s the only way. (For those of you who are skeptical, lets just say, it’s a very big deal. Students will line up and be late for their next class to make this pledge.)
But this is a story about one special pin.
On the first day in this particular classroom, after the message about the positive reasons to save sex for marriage, an African-American student, about 18 years old, hung around the fringe of those waiting to pledge for their pins. While I was giving out pins, I could hear him talking about how he had no plans to stop having sex. It would be too hard, and besides, HE was responsible.
When most of the other students were gone, he paused for a second near me, as if he might change his mind, then said, “Nah, man, I’m not doin’ this. I’d be lying to ya,” and started out the door. I put my hand on his arm, looked up into his face and told him, “Thanks for not lying to me. It takes a man to do that.” He smiled, gave that little jerk of the chin that teenagers do, then strolled out of the class.
The next day, same class, the teacher requested I discuss abortion procedures and risks. After class, as often happens, several students came up to me after class. After thinking things over, they had made a decision and wanted to know if I had any “I Am Worth Waiting For!” pins left.
The same young black man hung out with this smaller group. He told me he was surprised, and had no idea abortion had so many risks. But he still thought if his girl got pregnant, he would want her to abort. “I’d tell her, ya know, wait til I get out of school and have my ‘ball career goin’.”
So I said, “OK, let’s talk about that for a minute. That says something about you. What you’re saying is ‘Nothing can get in the way of my career. It’s more important than you or our baby.’ ”
He looked startled, and said, “No, I’m saying that it would be better to wait til I have the money and can take care of her and the kid.”
“But,” I said, “if you’re not willing to stop having sex, which would eliminate the risk, you can say whatever you want, but you’re actions say you’re the kind of guy who’d sacrifice his own child if it gets in the way of what he wants.
That was a new idea for him. We talked for a while about how our choices determine our character, and it got him thinking about if his choices were going to make him the kind of man he wanted to be. When he left, he was looking thoughtful and challenged.
As I was leaving the campus, I ran into him again. Walking along with me, he said I’d gotten him thinking. He remarked, “Abortion seems wrong ...until it happens to you.”
So I asked him, “Isn’t right always right and wrong always wrong?”
He said, “Sure, but it would still be hard.”
I said, “Yes it would be, but that’s the difference between men and boys. Men can make a tough decision, boys take the easy way out.” He said, “I hear ya, I hear ya. I’m listenin’.” We parted ways again.
My third day in his classroom, I talked about what to look for when choosing a mate. At the end of this message I share a story about ordinary men who died protecting the people they loved. It often touches young men in particular, and it had a remarkable effect on my new friend.
He hung around after class once again, now dogged by several of his friends. They’d been watching our exchanges, and were razzing him pretty bad.
But it was a serious moment for both of us. He shrugged off their comments and said, “I couldn’t get what you’ve been saying out of my head, but I had to think things over. It takes some time with me, but I think I’m ready now. I think I’m ready to tell you the kind of man I want to be.” Then he looked me in the eye, and said, “I’m worth waiting for until I get married.”
It was a privilege to hand over that “I am worth waiting for” pin. My heart was in my throat when I said, “It’s been an honor to watch you grow into a man.” Then he nodded at me, gave me that little chin-jerk they do, and then walked out - it seemed to me just a little bit taller.
Maybe it took this young man three days, but ultimately he did make a decision about the kind of character he wants to have, and the kind of man he wants to be.
One pin at a time, one person at a time, it does make a difference.
