Tragedy

History has taught me again and again that tragedy, especially early on in life, produces one of two results in a human being: either it makes you stronger, or it destroys a part of you. Passing through a flame either thickens one's skin, or it chars it. For some, "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger", but only some. What's fascinating is that people who have experienced tragedy tend to find each other, and more often than not, they find someone who deals with it the opposite way they do. Those who have come out of it stronger seek out those who don't, and visa versa. John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Alexander Hamilton and his best friend at King's, Troup. The list goes on and on. One man is tougher, independent and self sufficient; the other is insecure, doubt-ridden and prone to hero worship. These complimentary figures fit together like puzzle pieces. They are something new, much more than the sum of their parts. I wonder how conscious this whole process is. How aware are we of the helpful effect we can have on those around us? Likewise, how awake are we to our own gaps of character that our friends and loved ones (hopefully) help fill in? I think it's a very lucky man who knows these things. If he can provide the former in a humble and selfless way, while recognizing the latter when he finds it, he can accomplish quite a lot.

It's amazing to me how confident, brilliant, and non self-pitying Alexander Hamilton was his entire life. He never used his unimaginably trying upbringing as a crutch or an excuse, instead filling every free moment with achievement and betterment. He's the greatest example in American history of the 1st kind of tragic figure-the kind who emerges better and stronger than before.