Simpler times

Today, I came across a photo of my friends in 7th grade. The thing that struck me was how simple life seemed in that picture. Of course, at the time, things weren't all rosy. There was language arts homework to worry about, not to mention pimples and cooties. But the main thing was, nothing seemed out of reach. Anything seemed possible.

As I got older, slowly, things started to seem impossible. When I was in 2nd grade, I still dreamt of being an astronaut or President of the United States. In 4th grade, I thought I might one day be a great jazz musician. In 6th grade, I would be a world-reknowned artist. In high school, I thought maybe one day I could swing the Nobel prize. Or at least a Rhodes or Fulbright scholarship, or maybe be a pro tennis player.

Now, my future seems much more limited. The scope has narrowed, not necessarily because I didn't want those things anymore, or because I wanted something else more. It was more that as I grew older, I continually hit limitations of what I could do. It's a humbling and depressing process.

Every time I meet a fifty-year old grocery store cashier, I think about how that man was once a bright-eyed and hopeful child. What did he dream of being back then? Did he read the same biographies of great men in history and think, 'I can do that, too!', as I did?

I'm not sure if my future is actually limited, or if it only seems that way, or if there's even any difference. All I know is that I hate feeling that way.

Was my future truly wide open back in grade school? Or was it merely an illusion?

As a teacher, I truly believed (and I suppose I still do) that all children are capable of learning and doing great things. That almost every child has the potential to go to college. But maybe that's not true. Maybe we are each born with our limits, and our lives are simply an expression of those limits.