What’s Your Why?

My SGI district saved my life. Though my mother practiced Buddhism, I didn’t begin my own practice until I was 16—when my family was struggling financially. I was bullied by my friends, and every day felt like a battle just to find a reason to keep going. At school, I was judged for wearing the same tattered clothes. I didn’t feel safe anywhere—except in the district.

When I first started attending district meetings, I remember feeling a sense of relief. It was the one place I wasn’t being judged—the one place I could simply be. Every meeting left me feeling refreshed, and I carried that spirit into my daily life, determined to win in school, to win in my family.

I’ll never forget one discussion meeting, after an especially hard day of being bullied. A women’s division member embraced me warmly. I don’t remember her exact words, but I remember how she made me feel. I told her I felt like nothing in my life was changing, and she gently told me that my struggles were part of my mission—to transform my circumstances so I could one day encourage others. That was the first time I had ever heard the word mission, and it changed everything for me.

Now, as a territory young women’s leader, I meet many youth who feel lonely or unsafe. In today’s world—with the pandemic, social media pressures and growing divisions—I often wonder how many young people have a safe space like I did when I was 16. That’s why I’m deadly serious about connecting youth to these spaces, where they can feel secure, uplifted and empowered.

I met a nonbinary youth recently who expressed deep appreciation for the SGI. They said, “The SGI and the district is the only place where I feel like a protagonist.” That resonated with me. In today’s world, so many young people feel like bystanders to the chaos around them. But in the SGI, we teach them something different—we teach them that they are the main characters in their own lives.

by Cam Morose
Boston
East Territory Young Men’s Leader 

For most of my life, I struggled with anxiety and loneliness. I was surrounded by people—through sports and other activities—but I never felt like I had true friends. That sense of isolation deeply affected my ability to believe in myself and caused me to worry that there was something wrong with me. 

During my sophomore year of college, my anxiety was so overwhelming that I had to be rushed to the emergency room on two occasions. That same year, I was introduced to Nichiren Buddhism by a friend and attended my first discussion meeting. There, I felt embraced by a powerful, genuine warmth from the members. In time, the incredible support of my district family allowed me to stand up in my Buddhist practice and to reconnect with something that I had felt disconnected from for so long, my heart. 

One member in particular, a woman who was significantly older than me, had a profound impact on my life. She deeply cared about me, was always eager to hear how I was doing and our conversations became something I looked forward to. 

To the men’s and women’s division members who wonder if they can connect with youth—based on my own experience, I believe young people often can connect more deeply with you than with their peers because of your heartfelt prayers and actions for their happiness. 

All the support I received from my local district family made me realize that discussion meetings are like portals to a higher life condition. No matter what state I’m in when I arrive, I always leave uplifted. Young people need spaces where they can be their authentic selves, experience a palpable sense of hope and form deep, meaningful connections. These meetings offer exactly that—encouragement and inspiration to tackle our dreams and confront the obstacles in our path.

In the past, my anxiety paralyzed me. But now, through daimoku, study and taking action to support others, the courage, compassion, and wisdom that I can draw from within overpowers that anxiety. While I still have insecurities and moments of self-doubt, I now have the tool to summon something greater within me—and for that, I am forever grateful for my Buddhist practice and SGI community.

by Celize Christy 
Dallas
Central Territory Young Women’s Leader

Working in policy, I often find myself weighed down by the magnitude of challenges we face. It’s easy to feel disheartened. But when I attend a discussion meeting, I find a wellspring of hope. It’s where I chant, study, and read Nichiren’s writings and Ikeda Sensei’s guidance. It’s where I reconnect with my own empowerment and realize that I can make a difference.

Society is full of differing viewpoints, but in our discussion meetings, we unite for kosen-rufu. We come together with a shared commitment to uphold human rights and dignity, transcending our differences in pursuit of a greater purpose.

Personally, I am battling to trust in my capabilities and to summon the courage not only to clarify my goals but to actively advocate them—in my career and in my relationships. Recently, I revisited an essay from Sensei on March 16, where he shared that for him, every day is like March 16. I want to embrace that spirit—to make each day an opportunity to respond to my mentor, to embody the warmth of my district community and to deepen my empowerment through this practice.

In a recent World Tribune,  Ikeda Sensei quoted second Soka Gakkai President Josei Toda, who said, “The more anxiety and alienation pervade society, the more we need to make our discussion meetings bright and overflowing with confidence and courage” (Jan. 17, 2025, World Tribune, p. 4).

In today’s world, it’s easy to withdraw into familiar circles and avoid discomfort amid growing alienation, anxiety and uncertainty. It’s easy to feel powerless, as if nothing we do can bring about real change. Many movements rise in times like these, but our movement—centered on small, heartfelt gatherings—has the power to transform hearts and minds at the deepest level.

by Jiwoo Kim
San Jose, Calif. 
West Territory Young Men’s Leader

I moved to the U.S. with my family when I was 3. In those early years, I struggled with English and had a hard time making friends, but I have vivid memories of going to discussion meetings with my family. Even though we could barely participate or understand what was being said, I loved going because of how they made me feel. I was always greeted with warm smiles—smiles I wasn’t greeted with anywhere else. My district home wasn’t just someone else’s house; it became my second home.

When I went off to college, that feeling of belonging stayed with me. I knew that no matter what, I could walk into a discussion meeting and feel welcomed. I became a district young men’s leader in college. I didn’t do much, but the men’s and women’s division members always praised me just for showing up. That constant encouragement helped build my confidence and pushed me forward through life’s struggles. No matter what was happening, I knew I had people who supported me. 

When I think about what people struggle with today, I see that many have a hard time believing in themselves. Although as Buddhists we are always studying Ikeda Sensei’s guidance about our infinite potential, it’s easy to feel like we are no good and, in comparison, that everyone else is doing better. I find that young people rarely open up about their struggles, so they feel alone in them—that they must be the only ones going through something. But that’s why discussion meetings are so important. You show up, you listen and you realize you’re not alone. Others share their struggles, and, in that space, you feel heard. That kind of connection is powerful.

Since Ikeda Sensei’s passing, every March 16 feels even more significant. With these youth-led discussion meetings, I’m determined to report to Sensei in my heart that the young men of West Territory have truly broken through—and that we’ve held the greatest discussion meetings yet.

March 14, 2025 World Tribune, pp. 6–7