Don’t get me wrong, I would choose any available humanitarian T-shirt as my latest fashion craze before pulling on another monogrammed sweater, but I refuse to let global tragedies be reduced to a mere consumer trend.

Thirty years from now, if we are looking at photos from our glory days taking note of the peace sign earrings and Mahatma Gandhi posters on our walls feeling anything other than relief for the fervor we felt and impact we made, there is no one to blame but ourselves. We can’t plead ignorance while living in the skinny “wealthy and educated” margin of people in the world.

Anyone on this campus has had the opportunity to be educated on global afflictions and mere Third World benevolence is not particularly distinguished or honorable anymore.

Yes, the fact that our heart strings collectively gnash with our feelings of compassion for those struggling is a beautiful thing. That innate interdependence is a wondrous part of human nature, but it’s not impressive. The unexpected tears that seep out during “Feed The Children” infomercials are something that happens to the most stone-hearted of us, yet follow-up is lacking.

Anytime Larry Jones pops out of the slums holding yet another winner of the Earth’s most adorable child award, each one of us can’t help but decide to revolutionize ourselves,

“Wow,” you think. “This stuff is for real! I think I’m going to sign up for volunteering right now!” And then a Snuggie commercial comes on and we retire to the couch yet again. Good intentions are nice, but they don’t feed or protect the kids on Larry’s commercials.

Empathy for Third World struggle is prevalent among our young generation. Rebel without cause — passe. Rebel with cause and ONE bracelet to prove it — all the rage.

We have spread awareness to the far reaches of the earth. We sent Emile Hirsch to the Congo, Dave Eggers has written a bestselling memoir and we’ve shaken our ‘thangs’ while “Making Poverty History.”

And this is good, but there is more to be done. However, I think many of us are at a loss for what comes next.

My favorite part of “The Last King of Scotland” is when Djonjo’s helps Nicholas Garrigan escape a gruesome death from Uganda’s sadistic president of the ’70s, Idi Amin. Garrigan asks Djonjo why he is doing this and Djonjo replies by saying, “I am tired of hatred. This country is drowning in it. We deserve better. Go home. Tell the truth about Amin. They will believe you. You are a white man.”

I find it hard to imagine Djonjo’s next words being, “Please, get attractive celebrities. Start amassing as much merchandise as possible, and spend a lot of time crying on couches!”

These things aren’t wrong to do, but we can’t rest on them. What an honor that anyone looks at our country as a refuge, and although I’m not sure we deserve it, we certainly have a responsibility as non-sociopathic human beings to act on it.

This is where our passion can be more than the latest fad, where we can step up and prove we value global suffering more than a pair of leggings. After all, what are leggings but a shortsighted trend? Or so I hope.

I don’t intend to slash apart awareness movements; I simply don’t want us to rest. We are aware and concerned, but we also are active beings who are not acting enough.

We can do this. We have time, money and resources. It bewilders me when I go to a club meeting focused on raising funds for Africa and see seven students present at the same time I’m coming off a weekend where 3,000 students collaborated for the laudable cause of Cedar Fest.

There are opportunities available for us. Volunteer at the Refugee Development Center. Run a 5K to raise funds for African Education. Buy an ambulance for Uganda with SCOUT BANANA. Serve lunch with Loaves and Fishes.

There is no shortage of need, just a shortage of you. I think Big Boykin summed up our obligation perfectly when he said, “Let’s do work, son!”

Casey McCorry is a State News guest columnist and English senior. Reach her at mccorryc@msu.edu.