You Just Never Know...

See that little kid in the middle? Recognize him? Well, he's me. (Some English teachers might suggest that to be strictly correct I should say "I am he." I would suggest that those English teachers should be smacked in the face with a cast iron pan because they clearly do not understand that I am trying to maintain a conversational tone.) Yeah, that's your Honors English teacher. Weird, ain't it? That little dude in the center is the one responsible for all these blogs you've had to write, all the discussion posts you've had to make, all the essays you've had to submit, and the online tutorials you have had to complete. Not bad for a two-year old, eh?

Sandwiched there between Dad and Grandpa Bill, I look as though I probably had more on my mind than sitting still for the photographer. (And it appears I may have had some peanut butter on my fingers, too.) It has been said (enough times to make it a cliche) that a picture is worth a thousand words. This picture, however, is worth at least a million to me, and its verbal value grows with every passing year because the strings of time that tie the person I currently am to the kid I was in that picture grow longer and richer in experience and perspective. I won't share with you all of those million words because they wouldn't mean as much to you, and you've got your own lives to lead, but here is what I want you to consider: There is no limit to the number of directions your life can take. You are always standing before a gallery of ten- million doors, any one of which will open upon ten-million more. Each progressive door you open represents a possible path for your life, and once you pass through most doors, there is no going back. So here's the question: What are you going to do with your life? Which doors will you open and which will you ignore? Maybe more importantly: Are you opening the doors that will get you to your goal? Or are you opening any doors at all?

This metaphor of the doors is another cliche, but the reason it has become one is because there is a certain undeniable truth to it. As you stand here on the edge of adulthood, you are going to be making choices that will resonate for the rest of your life. I am not suggesting that every trivial decision you make (what to wear to school, what to have for breakfast) will impact your future in cataclysmic ways, but there are some choices you can make now that might just set you on the path you want to be on when you are an "old man" like me. "Which choices?" you ask? Well, there are the obvious ones like the decision to succeed in school. That clearly opens more doors than it closes. The choice to stay physically healthy would too. Making a list of life goals would give you some direction, and periodic evaluations of those goals (to see if you are doing what you need to do to reach them) would also make sense. I guess what it all comes down to is figuring out who are and who you want to become, and that's why being a teenager is often frustrating.

I can't be terribly specific here because you all have different life experiences. That's obvious just by reading your blogs, which, by the way, is a pastime I have grown to very much enjoy! But I can tell you this: I wish someone (a parent, a counselor, a teacher, or some other trusted adult) had told me this when I was in junior high school because I floated through most of my "educational years" completely unengaged in what was going on around me. As a junior in college, the university wrote me a letter that said I had to declare a field of study, and somehow I selected teaching. I've never been unhappy with that decision, but I have to tell you honestly that it was pure luck I ended up doing something I generally enjoy because I was letting life happen to me rather than living it according to my own passions. I should have taken much more control of my life a lot sooner than I did. I should have applied for more scholarships. I should have taken the ACT enough times to get a score that would have made me eligible for those scholarships. I should have applied myself more to some pursuits and less to others. Does this mean I regret where I am in life now? Not at all. But I might be in a position to control more aspects of my future if I had been more aware of my choices in the past. (For example, I might be in a position to directly correct many of the problems in public education rather than just pointing them out--often loudly and obnoxiously--in hopes that someone higher up the ladder will correct them.)

Life is a mysterious thing. Certainly things will happen to you that you cannot predict or control. (I did not know at the time the above picture was taken that 19 years later I would be one of the pallbearers who carried Grandpa Bill to his final resting place.) If your family moves, that's something you can't control, but it is just as likely to be a good thing as a bad one. You can still choose your perspective. You still choose your passions, your interests, your goals. You still have the ability to move and change to world.

Ray Bradbury, one of my favorite authors, decided when he was twelve years old that he wanted to be a writer, so he started writing 1000 words a day. He has done that every day since then, and in the process he has published more books than I can count. Sure, there were sacrifices, but he knew what he wanted to do...and he did it. I am often amazed by the students in my classes who think they are going to make a living playing pro football even though their experience with the game is limited to time spent in front of a Playstation 2. Some believe they are going to be great rock musicians even though they only play air guitar. My hope for all of you is that you make your experiences match your dreams. Henry David Thoreau said it this way: "If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. "

You'll probably not escape high school without reading some Thoreau. I faked my way through one of his books in my junior honors English class. I wish I'd paid a bit more attention because he was right:

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."

MRT