“Spend $300,000 to study ENGLISH!?” my friend chucked. “And do what? Teach A for Apple, B for Buffalo to primary kids?
“B for Ball” I whispered to myself. On my way home, I kept mulling. “Everyone knows English, what’s the need to STUDY it?” his words echoed in my head. Since I was young, I had been intrigued by the beauty of language. Fresh parchment was my petrichor. I could almost smell the raw, crisp paper sending pheromone-releasing signals to my brain, luring me to wield my pen and spill beads of ink on the virgin sheet of emptiness. Words were woven threads of thought, emanating the ineffable processes of the mind. Poetry was my mode of escapism; debate -my partner in crime. “’A for apple, B for ball’, I sadly pondered.
We got down at our houses and I waved him goodbye. My imminent desire to ‘respond’ cowered back into its hole. But maybe I didn’t have to reply. Because curiosity prefaces career and we all have varying definitions of both. Maybe the reason why our choices are challenged is to test if we would hold on to them. This tiny incident taught me 2 crucial lessons- A: Silence is a sign of maturity, not cowardice, and B: Having faith governs the prowess to excel. The next day when I met my friend, I simply smiled and said “The reason we can converse critically is because someone taught us the alphabet. Maybe being a teacher isn’t a bad idea after all.”
