Even if you could, it was your fault.
That was not what I had envisioned. As a “mid-career” architect in the early 2000s, I was beginning to understand that it’s not easy to change the world through architecture, Ayn Rand notwithstanding. Either my ego was too big, or my talents were too limited (though neither is a detriment to a successful career in the arts, if you ask me). But the facts being what they were, I saw that a change of careers was indicated. I wanted to do something meaningful with my life.
There was a time, however brief, when I first started teaching 10 years ago, that I thought I could save humanity from its ignorance, cupidity and deceit one youngster at a time. Or, at least I thought I’d be on hand should the opportunity arise to do so. That I failed on all counts is no one’s responsibility but my own.
But, heck! As long as you asked — let the finger-pointing begin.
The kids — most of them are fine; after all, they’re just kids. I blame them for little or nothing, or just maybe I can forgive them everything. Even when I heard 12-year-old girls in perky pigtails say “fuck you” to me and had 13-year-old boys promise to kick my ass and key my car, and worse, while alarming, at least it had some context. Hell, maybe I deserved a serious beat-down now and then.
I can relate. Of course the problems are worse in larger districts than in smaller ones, but in the final analysis, the problems are similar.
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