“You have to have the willingness to connect with people.”
Union soccer player Manayeh Linton speaks with an authority and steadiness that can only come from experience. His life is one that has been defined by change, which becomes more and more apparent as I learn about his story. I cannot help but feel like I am talking with someone who has truly lived.
Aside from his abilities as an athlete, Linton is a confident and gifted communicator. As he answers my questions, he weaves meaning into his life story naturally, making my job almost too easy. As soon as I entered his room, his personality and background were palpable.
“Yeah, that’s mine. That’s the flag of Ethiopia.”
He tells me about all of the decorations in his room but this one stands out to me. Linton is originally from Ethiopia but got adopted into the States at age 9. I cannot imagine going through a transition like that at such a young age. I ask him to tell me more about it.
“I moved with people I didn’t know,” Linton says. “We didn’t speak the same language. I didn’t know any English when I came here. All the food was different, the culture was different, everybody was just different. I had to find different ways of connecting with people.”
The way he ends this statement surprises me. His takeaway from having to adjust to an entirely foreign life at age 9 is that it is important to still find ways to connect with people. Were I to be in his shoes, I think I might find it easy to become callous to the world and cold toward people. He does neither. His circumstances serve only to reveal his optimism rather than weaken it.
As I continue to talk with him, I realize that this focus on connecting with others is a common theme for Linton. This is bravery. Opening your heart is difficult, and I don’t think I could blame Linton if he opted out. On the contrary, he has an unwavering love for people, despite being given many reasons to harbor bitterness.
“I thought my mom was just kind of throwing me away,” Linton says. “Later, she explained to me, ‘No, it’s because you have more potential in you and you could go somewhere and use that potential for greater good than you could here.’ She put me in a better position to better myself in life.”
The perspective he gives on his adoption story is somewhat shocking but completely beautiful. I admire it. His adoption into the United States was the first step in the path that led him to playing soccer at Union University.
As of right now, Linton seems to be doing great. He is an active and influential member of the soccer team and participates in Greek Life on campus as well. His friendliness is paying off.
“Has it always been that way?” I ask him about his earlier years.
“At nine years old, to be honest, bro, the only thing I thought of was just surviving,” says Linton. “Back home, in Africa, my life wasn’t about what happens tomorrow. It’s ‘can you get through today?’ I had to raise my little sister because my mom was working three jobs to feed me, and my step-dad was just really not in the picture at that point.”
These details strike me as something close to heartbreaking.
Linton’s tone, though, is not even remotely heartbroken. He relates these details like they are simply facts of life that should not really be surprising.
I ask him how he feels about the fact that he was put up for adoption by his birth mother. His answer once again reveals his immutable optimism.
“She didn’t put me up for adoption because she didn’t love me. She did it because she loved me.”
Linton’s life has been full of changes, and it seems he has learned something from every one of them.
“It took a while for me to understand that loving people is the only way I can get the same affection back,” Linton says. “I was always closed off. But it’s a two-way street. Once I learned that, I feel like I started to thrive.”
Even a quick survey of Linton’s life reveals that he practices what he preaches when it comes to loving people. He approaches people boldly.
“I just try to be friendly. I’ll talk to a wall if it’ll listen.”
To me, this is almost somewhat inspiring. Being friendly is one thing; remaining friendly after experiencing the unfriendly parts of the world is another. I ask him where this confidence comes from and if he has always been this way.
“No, I have not always been confident,” says Linton. “That part of me came into play when I moved to America.”
In a way, this progression seems almost backward, or counterintuitive at least. Loving people more after living through the darker side of abandonment is certainly not the sequence most people seem to experience. Linton does not see it this way. His ability to remain open and vulnerable to the world hinges on his understanding of family.
“I feel like family is one of those words we just throw around,” Linton says. “People think family is who you grew up with – that’s not necessarily family. Family is who got your back.”
In the midst of a frequently changing and often unpredictable life, Manayeh Linton makes loving the people around him the constant. Before I leave his dorm, I ask him his favorite quote, and to be fully honest, I could not have been less surprised by his answer.
“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. You have to have the willingness to connect with people.”
