At this point in life, I can’t remember what the origin of that situation was or why we were talking about something that today may seem ridiculous, obvious or inconsequential, but from what I learned one of the essential lessons of the life.
Nor do I remember how old I would be at that time, but I do know that it was at that time when you go to school but still do not have subjects, but you are in such a state of ignorance that it is not possible to cover or delimit knowledge in thematic structures.
However, I remember myself conscious of my existence, my individuality and my capacity for reasoning. I remember sitting at a white wooden desk in a bright classroom that communicated with the older ones through a door next to the blackboard.
In front of me, an open book, with many illustrations to capture the attention of a distracted, awake and reflective mind, as I remember it. Vignettes and drawings that seemed too childish for the degree of maturity that I perceived in myself.
As if suspended in midair, the teacher launched a question of those that she liked to ask often to evaluate the development of our small and new minds. On one occasion he asked us how clothes were dried on the line, to which no one could find an answer that would explain what happened to the water after being dried by the sun. The expected response, evaporation, sounded like a complicated advanced science process to all of us.
In this case, the question seemed simpler: how many of us thought ducks could fly.
Immediately my head began to search at high speed among the few images that made up the visual archive of my memory, one that could give an answer to the enigma posed. And I found it, I imagined a flying duck and it did not seem an incoherent or far from reality image. I quickly got ready to raise my hand, but when I saw that I was the only one who did it in the whole class, the initial firmness turned into insecurity and I ended up lowering my hand, before the incredulous look of the teacher.
Then he rephrased the question in reverse: who thought ducks couldn’t fly.
A flock of arms shot up and mine followed, as if driven by the hypnotic effect of the slipstream or trying to camouflage itself in the crowd of unanimity. Without taking her eyes off me at any time, the teacher slowly approached my desk, leaned up to my height and looked into my eyes, as if trying to open a gap in my understanding along with the things that are never forgotten, told me:
«I want you to remember what I am going to tell you, because it will serve you throughout your life: never, never, never doubt what you think, even if everyone is against it, if you are sure of it, defend your opinion . »
I had two teachers in preschool, one was called Isabel and the other Paqui, and although I don’t remember which of the two I should attribute these words to, it is a lesson that sometimes I think I have not finished learning yet.
‘Why did the right road take that wrong turn? There are reasons for the path we take, there are no mistakes, just lessons to be learned… ‘