It
all started with an analogy done
by Rubem Alves, in his book “TALK
TO WHO WANTS TO TEACH”,
making a comparison between Jequitibás
and Eucalyptus trees, for confrontation
or synchronization between educators
and professors. What differences
exist between an educator and
a professor? What is the difference
between a jequitibá and
a eucalyptus tree? Well, first
it’s good to remember the
differences between an old pharmacist
and a modern druggist; between
an old, mule drawn trader and
a modern cargo transporter. The
old pharmacist was a complete
professional, used to performing
every procedure in the pharmacy:
He would measure, mix and manipulate
the substances, transforming them
into medicine, carefully package
them and then, tenderly entrust
them to his clients, delivering
them to the very sickbed when
necessary. The pharmacist always
had a little conversation for
each person that came into his
pharmacy. He was the main spring
of his commercial establishment.
A pillar of local culture, distributor
of wise advice and local news,
and a sort of social fraternity
director, a passer-on of wise
old sayings and life directives.
The mule drawn trader was a man
who raised his team of animals,
fed them every day, cleaned them,
put on the saddle, took care of
the cargo, put up camp and even
told stories to his companions
at night, around a warm campfire.
No one hears about the pharmacist
and the mule drawn trader anymore.
What we have are busy, impersonal
pharmacies, void of consideration
for people’s feelings. Exceptions,
of course, are rare. Freight drivers
don’t even exist in the
place of the mule drawn traders.
What you have are companies directed
by offices that communicate by
telephone, controlled by computers,
smelling of sterility, distant,
as distant as the destiny of the
cargo they carry.
And what about the educators?
They were men and women dedicated
to their choice for a lifetime,
sharing and mixing their lives
with the lives of their students.
They were the transmitters of
universal knowledge, teaching
everything, from hygiene to world
history. From the mother tongue
to the most complex arithmetic.
From geography to religion, from
drawing to natural science. From
home economics to etiquette. It
was a time that forged competent
and educated young men and women,
a refined nobility, in an environment
with an eternal perfume of spring.
The professors of today, or at
least those who are not educators,
poor things, are disposable, a
perfectly substitutable work force.
They remain on strike for months
at a time, go off on recess, go
off on vacation, are laid off
or fired…and all this time
wasted away from school goes on
continuously with absolutely no
effect whatsoever on governmental,
national or public concern or
consideration toward their situation,
they are just replaceable employees,
competence or degree making little
difference in their passing. An
even better comparison can be
found between the jequitibá
and eucalyptus trees. The jequitibá
is a long living tree, getting
up to fifty, one hundred, two
hundred years old and more, passing
from generation to generation,
useful and precious. Now, to the
contrary, the eucalyptus tree
is ripe for the taking in four
or five years, a green desert,
good for little except its wooden
face value, a silent den, home
to no warm blooded animal or bird.
And is all this the truth? It
is no use for modern professionals
in teaching, or educational employees,
as they like to be called, in
reference to union matters, to
deny it. It’s the world
itself that is dissolving the
office of the educator, the same
way that it also almost finished
off the jequitibá, the
braúna, the candeio, the
jacarandá, the cedro, the
peroba and the sucupira. The jequitibá,
strong and eternal, symbolizes
the educator. It transmits a soothing
presence of permanence. It remains
as the world passes, useful in
all directions. The eucalyptus,
- disposable by nature, is the
professor, that no longer accompanies
the student. He has no time to
spend on his charges, no longer
following the individual drama
of his pupils, doesn’t feel
or live anything professionally,
desperately racing from school
to school, from class to class,
to earn his paltry daily wages,
or somewhat more when well placed.
The professor no longer remembers
his students’ names and
the students aren’t interested
in their professors’, either.
Wireless teaching machines, they
are, and little else!
The in success of much in the
world today has its causes firmly
rooted in disloyalty and lack
of interest, motivation and incentive,
along with the incapacity to dream.
The growing disinterest of world
governments in relation to education
is what is really behind the failure
of the profession of the educator,
relegating it to last place in
the list of national priorities,
getting rid of it, principally
because education in itself gives
additional advantages to those
interested…political campaigns.
How to weasel out percentages,
the famous one-third, of the payment
checks? Unfortunately, many educators
holding the vocation of educators
end up transforming themselves
into simple professors. Like simple
eucalyptuses. Without loyalty,
without a total, living conviction
of purpose. Without developing
the capacity of tenderness, of
refinement, of personal interest
in what they do.
Happy and content is the educator
who still maintains his loyalty
to their profession, like the
mule drawn trader and old pharmacist.
These - I’m sure - are worth
their place in heaven.
