It’s not very complicated, and at the same time, it is. It’s like a secondhand book. You’ve got that book you’ve always wanted, but someone else made a few notes or stuck a dried out flower between the pages. So you have the book, and at the same time it’s not really yours on some level.
Perhaps I’m pushing it too much. But here goes.
Yes, i’ve been weird about babies for as long as i can remember. I’ve always known that i don’t want em and there’s something about babies that i just don’t understand. That’s completely fine and that whole ‘maternal instinct’ is something i just don’t buy into. it’s alright if a few women don’t want kids.
Anyway, I digress. I’m studying to be a teacher, a proper one, not like the stuff I’m doing now- yeah i’m still teaching but it’s not really at a school and it’s not a proper green apple on the desk, meeting parents kind of teacher ; but that’s where i want to be. . At high schools where kids will hate me and pass notes to each other about how much they heart and LoL various things instead of paying attention to ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade.’ That’s the dream.
The paragraph i just wrote is possible because i have parents who sent me to the best schools, let me go to any universities i want and study anything from that third witch in Macbeth to why William Wordsworth wandered lonely as a cloud. I’m getting my third degree in a year , and I’m writing this sentence and every single one before it on a computer worth 50 school lunches in some part of the world. Probably one that can’t imagine a computer or a roof over their heads all being possible.
But I could. And i did.
Why is that important? Good question. And no it won’t begin or end with god.
I pride my intellectual ability. it’s one of the reasons i’ve enjoyed and will enjoy being a teacher. Call it conincidence (I wouldn’t), chance or the law of large numbers, but i was born in a family that let me explore my intellectual curiosity as far as my imagination could take me; the Oort cloud of intellectualism let’s say. If it weren’t for them i’d probably still be smart, but i’d be rummaging for books in skips, or dead, or staring enviously at a kid who has a first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray as i mopped the floor of his room. I could be anywhere, doing anything else.
There are other me’s out there. Kids who want to learn, but can’t. Kids who have a million questions but don’t have anyone to answer them. Ninety nine percent of the people i meet are either idiots or egoists, but this one time i will make an exception. If there is one thing in the world sadder than burning books, it is the stamping out of curiosity, intellectualism being crushed, and all hope for just good old fashioned learning and books being torn to pieces. That’s why i want to be a teacher.
And some day, if i can, i’m going to find a kid or a teenager and give them the opportunities i had. If i have the money, I’ll let them choose things in life rather than life choosing things for them. i am weird around babies and i don’t want kids at all, but i wouldn’t say not to an afternoon discussing Chaucer or quasars with a kid who wants to go to college. And i want to see the look on his face when i tell him he can.