Letters to Charles I
Charles,
Here is the first of my letters to you. This is actually a letter to the youth, but I will address it to you. I address it to you because in my exposure to the youth, I haven’t found many as worthy as yourself, and I also know you will listen to what I wish to impart. I know that you yourself are wise beyond your years and that you have the ability to distinguish between the true wisdom I wish to share and the chaff in my words.
This introductory letter explains what I hope to be as your teacher. You need to understand this in order to understand the rest of which I hope to say to you. You need to know where I am coming from.
To quote something I once read in a colleague’s class, "I am not your friend. I am your teacher. You may not realise the value of that right now, but one day you will." By this statement I do not mean to put myself above you – all men are equal after all. More or less, at least. And yes, some are more equal than others. Your teachers, the ones who care about you, at least, are next only to your parents; your parents care more and so they should. Your teachers are the ones who will really do everything in their power to get the best for you, just like your parents, but the extent of our powers are not as far-reaching as that of your parents.
As your teacher, I am not your parent. That means that we will never share the bond you share with your parents. Sometimes that bond may be better, sometimes it may not. Still, no matter how good or how bad your relationship with your parents is, that relationship is not my place; I cannot and will not replace your parents. At best I could offer you the emotional refuge when things are going a bit rough. And my advice, but once again, you need to discern what is right and what not.
Because I am quite young, I am in the generation between your parents and yourself. That means that I understand your perspective, and I also, as an adult, understand your parents’. Please note that I understand your perspective – your parents understand you. Or so I hope.
Keep well, until next time.
Mr. vd M
Here is the first of my letters to you. This is actually a letter to the youth, but I will address it to you. I address it to you because in my exposure to the youth, I haven’t found many as worthy as yourself, and I also know you will listen to what I wish to impart. I know that you yourself are wise beyond your years and that you have the ability to distinguish between the true wisdom I wish to share and the chaff in my words.
This introductory letter explains what I hope to be as your teacher. You need to understand this in order to understand the rest of which I hope to say to you. You need to know where I am coming from.
To quote something I once read in a colleague’s class, "I am not your friend. I am your teacher. You may not realise the value of that right now, but one day you will." By this statement I do not mean to put myself above you – all men are equal after all. More or less, at least. And yes, some are more equal than others. Your teachers, the ones who care about you, at least, are next only to your parents; your parents care more and so they should. Your teachers are the ones who will really do everything in their power to get the best for you, just like your parents, but the extent of our powers are not as far-reaching as that of your parents.
As your teacher, I am not your parent. That means that we will never share the bond you share with your parents. Sometimes that bond may be better, sometimes it may not. Still, no matter how good or how bad your relationship with your parents is, that relationship is not my place; I cannot and will not replace your parents. At best I could offer you the emotional refuge when things are going a bit rough. And my advice, but once again, you need to discern what is right and what not.
Because I am quite young, I am in the generation between your parents and yourself. That means that I understand your perspective, and I also, as an adult, understand your parents’. Please note that I understand your perspective – your parents understand you. Or so I hope.
Keep well, until next time.
Mr. vd M
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