On learning
Time spent learning from such people, and taking from them memories and lessons.
When I was in Canada at the end of last year, I paid a visit to my old high school. It’s a special environment for me, where the base of who I am was formed, and where I met some of the most influential people in my life. During my visit, I was asked to make an impromptu appearance at the careers course. I had no clue what to talk about, and I felt like I was rambling. Then I talked about some of the influential teachers in my life. One of the students was astounded that I knew, personally knew, one of their teachers. I had been out of high school for eight years, and I knew their teacher. “Yes,” I replied, “he was my teacher ten years ago.” T-E-N. Ten years ago. I was a student at my high school ten years ago, and graduated eight years ago. Yikes. My spiel continued, without any known destination. I told them to have three or four non-negotiable values that you always stand by when looking for work. Then they had me come back to the idea of influential teachers. I told them that sometimes, teachers teach you more than just the curriculum; they teach you values, tendencies, personality traits, and you won’t realise this until years later. It was really only when I came back to visit my high school earlier this year that I realised this. There were quite a few teachers who left a lasting legacy on my life.
I met with so many of my old teachers, one of whom was my senior kindergarten teacher. She has been in my life since she was my teacher, 20 years ago. I remember when I was younger, I would spend my outdoor recesses in her classroom, helping her with odd tasks and all. I said this was to avoid having to go outside in whatever the weather was. But really, it was because I did — and still do — adore her and her joy. I have never, ever, seen her in a bad mood, heard her speak in a negative way. She’s always doing something that brings her joy. Whether it is handmade holiday cards for her students using a snowman stamp, or taking free online university courses in her temps libre, and even taking art classes, furthering her skills. From my view, she’s not doing this to be better at something or to prove herself, but because she finds joy in it. Joy. Joie. There is no other word in the world I could use to describe my kindergarten teacher. There is no other lesson I can think of from her that has imparted such an important and lasting effect on my life (aside from the poem about squirrels). Now, when I think of something that brings me joy, I almost always think of Mme L when whatever I’m doing brings me joy.
As I continued in middle school, another teacher made a large impact on my life. This French teacher would help me navigate the very odd years of middle school, while also juggling other pressures. Her support was integral to my foundation going into high school and further life. Mme M was always ready to listen, to advise, to support. And to all of this, there was no condition to it, there were no expectations, no hierarchy; two equals. This allowed me to feel safe and heard. She has always had zero conditions on her support. Unfortunately, I did not get to see her during my last trip to Canada, but this notion of unconditional support has not left me. Before my departure to France, I remember making a visit to see her at my old high school, and she spoke of how excited she was to watch me follow my dreams. This version of unconditional support has translated into my life in the way I support my friends, and the type of person I aspire to be when I grow up.
My art teacher in high school is someone who is impossible to forget, as I am. She is a fierce, and I mean fierce, supporter of whatever she believes in. Be it human rights, equal opportunity, desire to learn, or art history, she fiercely and endlessly supports what she believes in. During my visit, she told me about how she’s gotten herself into hard situations because she is such a fierce supporter of what she believes in. I believe this is the only way to live when it comes to your beliefs. Recently, I found online a quote along the lines of: art has always been, and will always be political in nature. There is no other way I can describe Ms J. While Ms J is not political, she abides by the same rules that everything she does is in an effort to promote or advance what she believes in, and to me, there is almost nothing more noble than this.
One of my last teachers, who made a huge difference in my life, is a culinary teacher. When I saw him in October, he was endlessly rambling about the state of the student body, how they are always on their phones, how they never stop talking, how they do not know how to properly socialise (I guess they were in elementary school during COVID). However, this has allowed him to continue discovering himself. Finding things that help him live life more vicariously, learning more about how his brain works, and how he is able to form better relationships. While I may be terrible at replying to his messages (as I am to anyone except my family and closest friends), his random stories always bring me joy and remind me to never stop the journey of discovering oneself. It truly is an endless journey, and one that I feel most of us do not put nearly enough emphasis on during our lifetimes. While Chef C may feel like his body can’t take being a culinary teacher much longer, his mind is a never-ending pit of knowledge and learning. Like bees (if you know, you know).
While I can barely remember specific academic lessons taught to me by these teachers, these life lessons have not only shaped me, but also helped me fill the void in life. In a book I am currently reading (more on that below), there is one quote that makes me think of these lessons taught to me by my teachers:
“…qui perd tant d’heures précieuses dans cet état mitoyen entre la vie et la mort.”
trans.: “...who wastes so many precious hours in this state between life and death.”
While Voltaire (Ingénu, ch. 2, para. 1) speaks of the time wasted, it makes me think of the opposite: the time spent learning from such people, and taking from them memories and lessons.
Happy Adventuring,
Ahmed
Things I’m Enjoying
Ingénu by Voltaire: Originally published in 1767, the story explores the fictional journey of a Huron aboriginal who was taken to England, learned English and French, and then ventured to the shores of Normandy (or Brittany, depending on who you ask).
Normal to Nomad by Barron Link: A book that I bought in 2023, but still waiting for a friend to send it to me (US shipping only), written by a YouTuber that I quite enjoy watching. Barron explores the various steps and materials needed to begin living nomadically in today’s society. While I don’t think I can live nomadically, it is very useful information for when I can one day buy a hut in the middle of nowhere.
Clairefontaine Pollen Envelopes: I’m finally out of my 500 neon-coloured envelopes from Canada, so I had to buy some more envelopes for my letters. I don’t want to buy some plain old white envelopes, as my penpals always write about the joy that the coloured envelopes bring them, so I decided on sticking to one colour, and decided to go with the Clairefontaines that are available at the local stationery store.
Month of Letters: The Month of Letters is an annual challenge that asks its participants to write one letter each day the postal service runs, and to reply to all letters written during the month. With the change in the way we communicate in today’s world, I find it important to be able to communicate in a tangible way that you can read and feel, not just see behind some random screen. It’s a far more human experience.