There he goes again ... pausing ... staring ... counting ... recounting. What is he up to?
That man, a drifter, clod in dirty clothes ... too rugged to be decent ... and too intelligent to be foolish. What is in his mind? What keeps him on that sidewalk?
Pebbles? Just pebbles? What for?
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Every Tuesday and Thursday on my way for work, I always pass by this odd looking man in his 50s, sitting on the sidewalk near a well-known college in the city. He seemed to be engrossed with the pebbles in front of him ... staring ... blinking his eyes ... shaking his head ... something like mentally counting them, then regrouping them, and counting them again ... oblivious of the traffic around him.
At first, I thought he was just passing the time. But it had been a habit. Two months has passed since I first saw him and still, he seemed to follow a pattern - sitting in the same manner, in the same location, and doing the same thing every morning at seven fifteen.
"What are those pebbles for?", I kept on asking myself.
Perhaps those pebbles represent something. It could be of opportunities, of broken promises, of regrets, of happiness or sadness, of good luck or bad luck, of wasted times and of fruitful ones ... of anything worthwhile or useless under the sun.
Then, I found myself counting my pebbles. How many opportunities have I wasted in exchange for the chance to be in the academe? Not just one, but two (I sometimes think it foolish, my family and friends even think so). How much money would have been in my bank account have I not chosen to be an educator? It would have worth several thousands. How many of my students landed a high-paying job than mine? Too many! How many waking moments and free times have I spent just to make sure that I would be ready for the next day's lesson? Aplenty! How many strategies have I applied just to bring my students up to my standards? Several! Any regrets? Only a few ... to few to mention.
Not once in my life have I dreamed to be an educator - or an instructor (I would prefer the term than "teacher" because I know I do not have much patience - there's a lot difference). I landed my first job in the academe seven years and three months ago, not by choice but by chance. My first year in the academe seemed like a limbo. I hated students who do not have the perseverance I once have as a student ... of pretending that I understand them while faking to be patient ... responding to their "Good morning, ma'am" when my morning was not that good. I hated the need to work even late at night and even during weekends, preparing lessons for the next day without overtime pay.
Then I landed a permanent job in the government - twice ... with higher pay, more benefits and exposure, awesome desgnations ... but BORING ... not as challenging and as rewarding as the academe.
Then I found myself trying to find a way out - trying to find convincing reasons to tell my family and friends if they would question my unexpected resignation. And so I left the permanent post.
That pebble would have been a real treasure for others - it would have been for me, too, had I not been so stubborn and idealistic.
For now, being an educator has become my choice (though I could not promise that it would be forever - it depends). It really is the "noblest" profession - something to be very proud of. "Noble" here means high in excellence and worth, magnanimous and illustrious (dictionaries said so) - not what other people think. It is like an uncut diamond that only expert jeweler knows the real worth. It means sacrifice and mixed emotions ... of smiling after getting angry ... of getting hoarse voice and aching feet because of the day's activities ... of joyful tears when you see your students marching up stage to receive their diplomas ... and of tearful joys upon knowing that they already got a decent job. It also means participating in the stimulating and exciting battle of wits with your co-educator ... discussing endless and uncatalogued topics with them ... sharing classroom gags and bloopers with them ... and laughing and crying with them ... without any false pretenses and rivalry. It simply means "everything" I hoped for in a job.
It realy is one of the most precious pebbles I have. It's priceless ... worth keeping and worth remembering ... worth counting and recounting for. Definitely worth my time - worth the other pebbles I have set aside.
(09.06.2003)
Published in the Faculty Notes Section of Faculty STImuli
Vol. VII, No. 1, October 2004
