I was laughing recently with childhood friends about how primary school memory doesn't get easily erased. Childhood memories, in all their colour and absurdity, remain vividly etched in the mind; defying an ageing body. I suppose it is why when we meet we shout each other's names in full as our teachers did, we rehash events in d.e.t.a.i.l and marvel at how we've grown because what we still see most is the childlike 'deskie' we exchanged notes and snacks with. The kid that metarmophisised into an adult but never quite left. The kid who lived loudly or shyly but felt deeply regardless.
Our childhood was largely sheltered and care-free. It was not without difficult moments…i would say it is the magnitude of the challenges we had to deal with that was greatly reduced or non-existent at that point in time. Then primary school gave way to steeper years of studying, hustling and demanding choices; from selecting subjects to emigration. In the blur of seeking footing, the spirit of living became part of the faded yellowed scrap books we signed with our whole hearts: "Roses are red, violets are blue…"
The post-primary journey became murky. It was not one with a set timetable, routine and meals. We encountered a world where not every person is happy or good. We reckoned with its dark side, that often mocks those who stand up for a cause or for the weak. Some floundered in this world where adulting was much harder than expected, some made costly mistakes, some lost faith others their shine… The scales fell from our eyes; our education was not foolproof, not all our teachers were heroes and we were not infallible.
But along came key lessons, that we can't change if we don't get out of our cocoons and that we will never know the beauty of our butterfly colours if we don't take the painstaking risk to grow, learn from our mistakes and live boldly.
Initially, we lacked the vocabulary to describe these lessons. We didn't quite know what to call them. Then we understood that it was a collection of what we had experienced, what we believed in, what we stood for and subsequently what we hoped for every fellow human being (some completely missed this memo).
Some believed the cruel world, that the options it presented are the only ones. Today they play to the gallery; caught up in performing a false life.
Some dared to question a world that doesn't care; to ask what they could do to change it, not only for their own benefit but for others too. Today they are living fully and even if they face obstacles tomorrow, they forge on; leaving the world a little bit better than they found it yesterday. They trace the threads on the cloth they've woven, with the warps and wefts of aspirations and achievements, to bequeath a warm wrap to the next child.
Celebrate more the child in you who once unwaveringly believed they were invincible. Be that kid again, that raced with all their might for their house, their school…for the collective win.
