They were supposed to guide us

It is interesting how our elders influence us when we’re growing up, in the family or in school. Sometimes in a good way, some times the bad.

I remember my high school. I loved mathematics, logic, combinatorics and all kind of mental challenges that numbers provided.

I remember when our math teacher announced a school competition in mathematics. He already had a dedicated small group of my classmates, who were studying for the whole year and took additional classes just for this competition. Nobody except them applied. Except me. I raised my hand and stood up to the challenge.

My teacher laughed at me in front of the whole class, because I wanted to test myself and compete with the “elite”. I still remember that laugh and that grin on his face. But for his own amusement and with a wish to humiliate me, he let me join the competition.

And I won. By a fucking landslide. With a twice as much points as the second competitor. I ashamed the “elite”, embarrassed my teacher and rose up as an excellent mathematician in my class.

Next step would be a regional competition. Of course I was the obvious first candidate and I was excited. Until that teacher banned me from going to the next level. The “outsider”, the little me from the village, was not good enough for the next level. I was not the elite.

I felt so angry, so wronged. I never forgot that. In high school mathematics was one of the things I wanted to study at college. From that competition on the pressure my math teacher put on me made me forget about mathematics. He made me fall out of love with the subject. There were some other family circumstances that required more of my attention and strength at that time, so going after math career was not something I had an energy for. I had to choose fights. I chose not to pursue mathematics.

Maybe that choices were good, maybe not. But for the people who were supposed to guide and motivate us, and end up destroying our passion, is really no excuse. The were supposed to be the giants that take us on their shoulders.

I believe that every human being is capable of good. Some choose not to be.

This is day number 33 of my 100 Days of Writing Challenge.