Nowadays, students with their parents all over the country are busy filling up the application forms of prominent universities and colleges. Most of these questions are easy to answer but most probably, the last one left blank until the very last day for submission is about what course the student wants to take.
I would suppose, too, that it is a delightful experience to advise teen-agers about the right course and from there on, the right career that would equate to a life of security and stability. This could be the experience of most parents.
It is a different one though for teachers. In fact, it is an agonizing one. The distress comes from knowing that these particular students come to us because they found our subjects interesting or that they were inspired by teachers and would want to share their knowledge someday with young minds. Others take flight from our lessons and aspire to serve the country by helping the poor or simply by staying here and using their talents for the betterment of our nation. The only problem is these kinds of jobs aren’t exactly on top of the list of the preferred courses of their parents for obvious reasons.
The dilemma we feel though is no match for what the students are going through. A lot of students come to me with disappointed expressions on their faces as they hand in their application forms while recounting that their parents will not allow them to take their desired course and that they are forced to settle for other courses, especially those that have management or engineering attached to them. Worse, it’s heart-wrenching to see former students of mine, who were once brimming with youthful enthusiasm about learning, become over-stressed with so many requirements when they reach college. The saddest tweets and posts are those rants that end with, “Why do I have to do this?” Sure, they were probably saying these things since high school, but the fundamental difference between college and high school is that the former should be a personal choice. I, too, felt stressed when I was in college, but the thought that what I was doing was irrelevant to my life never crossed my mind. We saw the tasks and requirements we had to fulfill as part of that big decision when we wrote the course we desired in our college application forms. This is clearly not the case for some of my students. Sadly, most of them are gifted, and there are those who have mastered Math and Science since they were little and would want to know what other universe of knowledge lies beyond these subjects.
On Paulo Coehlo’s 20-sec read blogs, he posted an excerpt about dreams and aspirations from his book The Pilgrimage. Coehlo’s take on living a peaceful and comfortable life as a result of pursuing false dreams is worth reflecting on: “And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams. When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and infect our entire being. We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cruelty against ourselves. That’s when illnesses and psychoses arise. What we sought to avoid in combat — disappointment and defeat — come upon us because of our cowardice. And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breathe, and we actually seek death. It’s death that frees us from our certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of our Sunday afternoons.”
As a teacher, I can’t help but feel sad for young people who deny themselves of their aspirations because they had to begrudgingly carry the imposed dreams of others. We are witnesses to the early stages of “psychoses,” of misery and confusion when they open up to us and complain about what they need to do and dream with wonderment about what they really want to do.
Paulo Coelho says it very well. Not everything that is peaceful and quiet is soothing for the soul. What gives it calm and contentment is when it follows its heart’s desires, tempered only by the guidance of teachers and parents.