Quitters Never Win... Unless They Quit and Go to America

Making our way across the level plane of a ceaselessly green countryside, the six of us ride fairly silently taking in the morning air of our new abode, “The ‘Bode’” for short. With me on the tuk-tuk sat four eager trainees and one middle-aged Khmer teacher with what my grandma would describe as a “bowl cut” and a name which translates to Lucky. Unable to maintain the silence, Jill Preston and I break out into an atonal rendition of Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby” causing Lucky’s hair to swing to the side much like an upended dry mop. Upon our arrival at the training venue, Jill, half her body hanging out the side of the cart, puts on her large sunglasses and announces a snappy, “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it!” Hopping from her seat, she scurries away to greet her adoring fans.

Jill Preston as she currently presents herself to the world via Facebook

Jill Preston is silly. Her personality is larger than life, “too big to fail.” A thoughtful teacher, an advocate for personal happiness, a strong woman with a gentle hug, and a Jew (kind of). I once said to Jill, “Quitters never win.” She aptly responded, “Unless they quit and go to America.”

Jill Preston is a winner, and she’s not the only one. At the one year mark, six members of my training cohort have already returned to America, two more are going back soon, and at least one is strongly considering it. Technically, these people are quitters who didn’t fulfill one of the core expectations that Peace Corps sets for its volunteers, serving a full 27 months. “Quitter” has many synonyms in the eyes of a volunteer leaving early such as “failure,” “disappointment,” “weakling,” and “selfish.” Most of these terms are self-imposed as feelings of guilt, but at least some of them are silently thought by loved ones back home, other volunteers, and Cambodian community members.

Quitting isn’t easy. It takes great courage, strength, and self-reflection to know when an experience isn’t right for you and to exit once you’ve invested so much (and so much has been invested in you). American culture seems to value “sticking it out.” We yearn for success and hide our failures, sometimes even drowning them in unhealthy addictions. Instead of considering what we’re really getting out of our jobs, our relationships, or our spirituality, we continue pressing forward while also ignoring how much or how little good we are actually doing.

While I wish their lives would have been happy and productive in Cambodia for a full 27 months, I commend these volunteers for knowing when the costs outweighed the benefits. No one profits from a depressed volunteer who is unable to perform his or her job well, brings down morale, or constantly desires a different reality. Jill and several others are winners who have chosen to take care of themselves and put their skills to use in other (often equally noble) ways. They aren’t selfish. They gave all they could trying to help a country in need, and I’m proud of them.