The Biggest Paradox of them All

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Usually, I write in extended metaphors. I do it because it's supposed to be a clever disguise over the angst in my chest. If I let it out in its raw state, it would consume me. And even in extended metaphors, I dare not linger a minute more than I need to- no use trying to pry open that Pandora's Box - nothing but a whole lot of grief inside.

But one day a few days ago, a young, vibrant, highly intelligent student of mine made a comment that baffled me and gave me a lot to think about. I was, and am, a victim of the paradox this comment has put me in.


But context is needed. I teach. I do it well. I aspire. I reach out. And I break through. Also, I am a different person in the classroom. Personally, I'm not a funny person by nature, in fact, you could go so far as to call me morose. But in the classroom you would not recognise me, metaphorically of course. I am transformed into this funny, charismatic and rather effective teacher that children, sooner or later, begin to respect and admire. That's the context.

Here's the comment: 'I think you're the kind of person who truly loves life and enjoys it to the fullest. It's just the way you approach things. You're full of life. I know you've got problems, big ones, but you don't let that get in the way of life."

Me? I'm full of life? In my 40 years of life I've heard some pretty weird stuff said about me: I'm crazy, I'm a thief, I'm manipulative, I'm a no-fun kinda gal, I'm too emotional, I'm too naive, I'm a bad mom, I'm a good mom, I'm a terrible person, I'm a wonderful mentor... but never have I ever been told that I'm a person who 'enjoys' life.

I thought about it for a while. And another nugget of wisdom just fell into my lap- the wisdom that often dawns on you as you age I suppose. People wear many faces. Pure and simple. They have this attache of masks. I have it, you have it and so does everyone you know. In any given situation, you open it, you rift through these masks inside and pull out the one that would best serve you under the circumstances. At the risk of offending plenty of people, I'm going to say that this is not necessarily a bad thing. (There I go talking in extended metaphors again.)

If I put on my teacher mask in the classroom, thereby inspiring young kids to be better versions of themselves, then I shall do so with pride. If I must replace that one with my 'family' face, where I'm, well, 'me', then I shall do so with pride. And then if I have to, I will put on my 'I'm gonna kick your ass' face when you hurt me.

But it's not okay to hide behind the facade of being a victim when you are the aggressor. That is a transgression that is not okay. That then, is the true definition of being 'two-faced'.

What I am trying to say is, we all have different versions of ourselves. We have roles to play. To do justice to all the roles we have to play, we must put on the different masks. But I still believe, that the essence of a person can still be felt despite the masks.

I wonder about the masks my kids wear everyday. I could write pages about how I remember them. My daughter being the one of the most smartest and sassy young ladies I know, knew (I'm not sure how the rules of grammar would apply here). I'd tell you about my son Sufyan, a young man who I truly believe may just be one of those people who maybe, does/did not have a mask- him being the most purest of souls I've ever known- gentle and strong. My son after him, his most alluring mask being that of a lion I think. Very straight forward that one- bold! Sadly, my twins were too young when I last saw them- but I do know one thing- they're quite the duo! I won't really write anything about the two tots after that. There is no point.

And in this moment, I wear the mask of a sad mother. To my pupils, I'm the vibrant full of life mentor. To my parents an obedient and loving daughter. To my colleagues a cooperative and friendly person who loves taking a dig at them sometimes. To a few select individuals, they may see me in a mask of their pure imagination- perhaps they see an ogre, or a witch infused with the dark arts.

Life then- is a mixture of a lot of things. Even of my grief I am thankful. I would not know how to enjoy life without it. And that is the paradox. And it is the reality.


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