Expectation is a privilege
Inside our bubble, I too spin in the hurricane of the Andover education. I am carried in a wind of equations, close readings, memorizations, and preparations for what’s next. What next is tomorrow of this, this hurried push and pull amidst the stone buildings that have come to define what it means to be a student. Yes, this definition includes academic work. We just know that A + B = C, so as long as we push we will receive a reward for our work. It will carry us, or deliver us in some cases. Opportunity is expected. Because of what I do today, I just know that my someday will be greater, and I am motivated.
I take this for granted. It strikes me hard that this expectation is a privilege not always afforded to others who work as I do. I cannot imagine; if I grabbed and grabbed and still held nothing, how could I climb? In fact, why waste my time when other issues are pressing and this magic education seems to require too much patience?
From what I read, to the young of Annawadi, this thought may not be as theoretical. When the weight of providing food, clothing, and shelter yet again becomes heavier, to direct resources to school requires faith. For a parent to release their valuable workforce for non-tangible result is an act of love. Are teachers who can’t make the commitment or take you past eighth grade worth it? (13) Are the earlier hours and manual labor worth it?
If we could strip the exterior, I think we’d see a ladder. Despite what may be a damning design, any ladder can be climbed. When my other options could be entrepreneurship or corruption, I like to think I would pick education. I like to think I would put my all or give my child the same. If I played this game, however, I might pick the easier, perhaps dirtier route. Hope is a delicate thing, and if I couldn’t see that “C” at the end of my equation, I don’t know that what I could be would be more than that.