Alma Mater: the first decision of my life
In memoriam Bronislovas Burgis, my headmaster
I was 14 when I decided to change schools. I had started my education 9 years before, naturally, without any consent. This is how I made the first decision of my life.
It was late spring of 1995. During the lunch break between classes my associates and I used to go outside the limits of the school yard to buy some snacks, smoke a cigarette and otherwise make sure we made the most of the day. Carpe vinum.
One of those spring days we went to a shop and bought some premium candy — almonds glazed with milk chocolate. As we were making our way back through a busy — high with energy — school yard, our collective attention was captured by one teacher. Teachers rarely made their appearances at the school yard — they also wanted a break from us. He was the teacher of Latin — old, and old-school. Back in his days children respected authority, were disciplined and could recite their “Formica Et Cicada” by heart woken up in the middle of the night. We were not his best students. And we made less than no effort to appreciate his views. Condemnant quo non intellegunt.
In the heat of candy fueled frenzy I decided to re-enact David and Goliath right then and there in the school yard. The Latin teacher as Goliath — a tower of authority but old and visually impaired; and me as David — good at throwing things at the unsuspecting. I rummaged through the bag of candy to find a bulkier milk chocolate glazed almond and threw it at the Goliath. Bulls eye — it hit him right on the shiny bold patch on his head.
The next day I was called to the principal’s office to sign a statement written by the teacher himself — I threw a rock at his head, obviously trying to kill or severely injure him in the school yard, in front of all the students. As I confessed to my crime I was expecting to be kicked out of the school. It should have been the almond to break the principal’s back. That same week I had set the school’s notice board on fire in a cold-blooded and premeditated arson. Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.
I did not get kicked out which was even worse. Every criminal wants to get caught, every alcoholic drinks for the hangover and every rebel secretly does it for the execution. I resented and craved for authority at the same time. As no authority was to be found in my school, I decided to change schools. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.
Kaunas University of Technology Gymnasium had been established in 1990, a few years before I threw the almond. I knew nothing about it, I was setting things on fire back then and was not plugged into the world of academia. But to my surprise some of my friends were. One of them took me by the hand back to the same principal’s office — where I had just signed the murderous confession — to demand withdraw my academic records from the schools register. I was leaving. Alea iacta est.
The Gymnasium was definitely a new kind of school. It was a boarding school, the first and only of its type in the country. It boasted a very competitive entrance exam, which luckily did not include Latin. The Gymnasium was also run by a very different headmaster than I was used to — Bronislovas Burgis. He spoke about love when he was serious and about math when we was joking. He was a passionate poet and a relentless bureaucrat. He commanded fear and affection. He would have kicked me out for that almond.
I remember the first interaction with him. After a month at school I had asked for an audience with him. I wanted to confess my dark nature: a penchant for insubordination and inclination to raise hell when bored. I wanted to come clean before I blew my chances at this school. Also by now I was so used to walking into principal’s offices — I could not get enough of it. After a brief chat I came out of his office with relief and a job offer. He wanted me to help him compile a dictionary. I could also skip some classes if I devoted my time to learning Unix and Mac. Next spring, a year after trying to kill a teacher I was a published author of a dictionary. Labor omnia vincit.
Life is a path dependent process — where you end up depends on where you start. After making that first decision — changing schools — all the other life decisions were progressively easier. For me the early decisions were impossible without the support of some accidental but pivotal people. I am grateful to Bronislovas Burgis for being such a pivotal person in my life. Vincit qui se vincit.
