Saturday Reflections: The Duke

Time seems to fly by these days. One moment it's Sunday, and suddenly, it's Thursday. But when I was younger, time seemed to crawl, as if stuck in quicksand.

Back then, school felt like an endless slog, punctuated by the disdain of mean kids, the frustration of angry teachers, and the relentless cycle of midterm exams. The pressure to excel, to achieve straight A's, was both an external expectation and an internal battle, served up with dire warnings: "Study, or you'll end up like Duke, the guy on the corner living in poverty because he didn't value education." It felt like threats, not guidance.

Teachers seemed to have a single mission: stuff our heads with enough facts to regurgitate during exams designed by those detached from their real-world applications.If you flunked, you weren’t just having a bad day; you were branded for life. You were the kid going nowhere faster than a hamster on a wheel. This system blatantly ignored those among us with learning disorders like ADHD, dyslexia, or dyscalculia, conditions most of our teachers did not understand, much less were capable of supporting.

So all those kids fell in the cracks, resigned to their own doomed fate. Those who scraped by, clinging to mediocre grades, had their self-esteem shredded so thoroughly they could use it for confetti. Imagine being that kid, constantly hearing from the grown-ups that you're about as likely to succeed as a snowball in a sauna. You are the Duke of the class.

A verse from Corinthians often told by our teacher often crosses my mind: "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Yet, sometimes, I'm reluctant to let go of the childlike perspective because children see the world with hope, joy, and boundless possibility. It's adults who often come along with a heavy hand, eager to shape that wide-eyed wonder into something a bit more... practical, a bit more like their own chipped and faded dreams.

As the week speeds from Sunday to Thursday, I try to hold on to a shred of that childhood magic, resisting the numbing grind of adult expectations. It’s about keeping that spark of imagination alive because, let’s face it, who really wants to grow up and realize they’ve become the person who can't see the magic in the world anymore?