School is a Verb
“Okay class, Today we’re going to discuss career paths and where you are planning on going next. Tyrrell, why don’t you start us off. What do you want to be?”
“A mountain.”
“Very funny. Now what would you actually like to become.”
“A mountain.”
“You’re seventeen and you want to become a mountain?”
“I have a question for you, Ms. Whitaker. If mountains are always eroding, like you’ve taught us, why are they still there? The more they erode, the more dramatic they appear. The more dramatic they appear, the quicker they erode. The quicker they erode, the smaller they become. But they don’t ever become smaller. They remain, and some, like the Himalayas, for example, even grow taller each year.”
“We learned this Tyrrell: the tectonic plates force the land upwards.”
“I know what you’ve taught. I’ve got a 5.0 average. And I know what you believe. I know that you want me to go to Harvard on that scholarship. But what you don’t know is what it’s like to be me. You know I’m from the other side of town. You know I’m only here because of the scholarship program. You know I’m living in foster care. You know that this is my one chance to get out of it all. But what you don’t know are mountains.
“There aren’t any mountains in Boston, especially not black ones. But the true mountains rise in the harshest environments. And the more they rise the harsher it becomes. My mountains aren’t on maps, but are those who face great suffering, oppression, and pain, and rise above the endless erosion to become summits of peace and justice.”
“I see what you’re saying.”
“Do you? Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been great to me throughout, but you have missed it as well. You see, this entire year you actually thought you were my only teacher, and that you were forming me, but my greatest teachers are suffering, racism, my broken family, not having money for shoes, eating easy mac every night alone, and losing my brother to gangs. These have been my teachers, these have been my erosion, while my tectonic plates are mercy, humility, peace, and freedom that push me up while the rest of me washes away. I don’t want riches and comfort and Ivy League status…I want to be a mountain.”
“Well, we wish you luck. Thanks for sharing Tyrone…I mean, Tyrrell. So who’s next? Claire?…”
“Uhh, I‘ll take the mountain option too,” Claire said with a grin.
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