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1.
"Do you mind if I skip it this time?" Bill asked on their way home Wednesday
afternoon. He had attended the previous three back-to-school nights as he
believed it his duty as a parent. Each time it was a replay of a student's week
in two hours, exhiliarating for one evening and gone till next year.
"No. Not at all" muttered the 17-year-old dozing at the back. Since the fall term
started, his day kicked off at around 7:00am and ended mid-night. Between 3:30pm
and 6:00pm, he had been building robots on his feet in the lab.
By Thursday afternoon, however, Bill changed his mind: he had to go.
2.
Second half of August, a heat dome moved in and hovered over the Bay. Bill was
sweating in his dark jacket while walking across the campus thronged by parents
and student volunteers, well-preserved and immaculately attired. His teal blue
T-shirt underneath with a giant black octopus printed on the chest wouldn't help blend
in. Nor would his short straight black hair tinged with a hint of gray, taut
middle-aged Asian face, trim athletic frame in slim-fit black jeans, and
minimalist sport sandals identify him as a typical patron of Jesuit education.
He was aware of how he stood out. Only it bothered him less each year. He made
no eye contact and marched with a proud chest through the lawn straight for the
the entrance of the building on the south end, his first stop of the evening.
The routine had worked well over the years. Each of the seven teachers gave a
seven-minute talk in his or her classroom. Then parents had eight minutes to
commute to the next lecture. Mr. Gonzalez taught calculus, Mr. Synder Marriage
and Family, Mr. Bensen cyber punk literature, Mr. Yav, physics AP, Mr. Tam, art
history, Mr. Lindemman computer science, and Mr. Goldstein industrial design.
Some achieved high in their past lives. Mr. Gonzalez used to work for Sun
Microsystems as a distinguished hardware engineer, Mr. Bensen wrestled at
national level and was a head coach at the school, and Mr. Lindemman worked for
Lockheed Martin. They switched to teaching for a more fulfilling life.
In the physics classroom, Bill was sidetracked when Mr. Yav asked each parent to
write and seal a note for his or her student to pick up later. After much
tapping on the phone, he scribbled
Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement.
-Albert Camus
He knew his boy was smart and lazy. He wanted to show empathy.
Mr. Tam, a squat muscular Asian in his 40s, with the picture of a urinal in the
Richard Mutt Case in the background, told his gaping audience that his class was
good for dating and if their sons learned how to bull-sh*t, he considered his
job done.
3.
"Did you get my message in your physics class?" Tuesday morning's train was late
and dad again had to chauffeur the boy.
"Yes. I did" came a foggy reply.
"I was glad that I went when Mr. Yav asked us to write a note" Bill was sincerely
thankful, and maybe even a bit smug, for attending the event.
"About half of the class didn't get a message."
"Still. You take it for granted when you get it and you don't know how the other
half felt. And imagine if you were the only one without it."
"That's fair."
Bill fumbled with the phone for a long time and they both liked Camus. So there you go. :-)
That said, he did feel proud of being there, or carrying on as the quote says. Maybe that's in itself the kind of success one should hope for, as it lies within one's control.
Yes. Teaching might be a good idea. I hope I can teach jiu-jitsu some day.
How many quotes are in your mind that you can simply spit them out at the right moment? Tim should be proud of you, who exceed at least half of the parents:)
For sure, he will carry on his success!
It's a good idea to be a teacher after retired from the industry. Nice write-up!