…fine yellow sand from the Gobi Desert…drifted down into the streets, sand whirled in eddies and filtered through doors and windows. It silted into corners and lay upon tables and chairs and in the crevices of garments, it dried upon the faces of children when they wept, and in the wrinkles of old people.

As if caught in time, these words from Imperial Woman which Pearl S. Buck set in Beijing in the mid-1800s describe my first months in China 100 years later. Living in the path of Gobi storms, I too experienced the pervasiveness of dirt. It would zealously drive its way between the pages of my books, behind tightly latched closet doors, and into my ears and nose. Dusting rags and brooms were fruitless instruments against inexorable waves of sand. Clean surfaces quickly vanished under each new silty layer. In those early days, dirt was a source of annoyance and disgust.

The highly accomplished were paragons of perseverance…had a kind of ferocious determination…It was this combination of passion and perseverance that made high achievers special. In a word, they had grit.

When I consider these words in Angela Duckworth’s Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance, the pervasiveness of dirt takes on a different meaning. One particular student I met later in China comes to mind.

Ling grew up in difficult circumstances in the path of Gobi sand. She was raised in a remote and economically depressed part of society that gives precedence to boys, especially whole and hearty ones. Ling lives with a disability. On our first encounter as I looked over her middle school classroom, her eager face shone out from a pack of fifty uniformed students. Inspired by a particularly enthusiastic teacher, their English was better than average, and I’d been able to coax answers to some simple questions from a few. When I turned the tables, however, none posed a question back until Ling’s hand lifted bravely and the sound of her voice confidently filled the silence.

Over the next few years, a number of Ling’s classmates gave in to their difficult circumstances. Many dropped out of school to contribute to family finances. Some of her female classmates were married “out,” as the Chinese language expresses it, bringing in a bride price to their original family. As the number of her hometown classmates dwindled, her determination seemed to mount. High school took her away to a different city. On her own, she persevered through a sometimes torturous education system which relentlessly prepared her for the grueling college entrance exam. Then, during her three years farther away from home at a career college, she was driven to take extra classes and graduated with both a diploma from her college and a Bachelor’s degree from a nearby university. After graduating, she continued to persist until she passed a series of qualifying exams and landed her dream job.

Now, when spring winds spray a wide swath of yellow silt across China, I’m reminded of Angela Duckworth’s definition of grit, and my aversion to Gobi dirt fades. In its place, Ling’s eager face shines out of the yellow sand. She is a gritty, inexorable force of nature, relentlessly pursuing paths of learning in order to reach her goals.

I wonder how I could be more like Ling. In my pursuit of lifelong learning. Persisting in my goals. Passionately persevering in faith—every day—all the way to my cross and beyond.

Photo by Vicki Hamilton from Pixabay