In the “apartment” I live, I fit: a bed, fridge, closet, TV, a small folding table, kitchen area and a bathroom with a washer all in a smaller space than my room in my parent’s home. It’s small.
No bother. I do not demand much else than what I have, though it would be nice to have room for company. What I have in place of room, are white walls and one picture of my family. I have facebook also, of course, which offers as many pictures and opportunities to communicate as I’d like. But I only have one real picture, that I can feel with my fingers; and no room for chairs, that can be occupied by a companion.
While the white walls, on one hand, can drive a person crazy; they can also narrow my focus onto what it is I am striving to do here in Korea. I have little room, literally, for distractions. I don’t even have room for a bookcase, in the event that I decide to forget the harsh realities of Northern South Korea and lose myself in fantasy and abstractions.
The white walls though, they do not keep the loneliness out . There is always a window through which I see both opportunities gone by or not yet realized. Some of which are fantasy, some of which are potential. As focused as I try to be, it is hard to not find myself looking out the window at times.
“So why do you stay? How can you stand it?”
I am asked that a lot. In part because I am a habitual complainer, but also because people recognize the difficulty of the situation. And not everyone would trade places with me. My answers are rarely satisfying to others and I imagine I don’t paint the most beautiful picture of this lived experience.
Robin Williams has shown me how I want to answer that question though. In the movie, Dead Poets Society there is a short, seemingly unimportant scene (so much so that I am having trouble finding it on youtube) where Neil comes to Mr. Keating for help dealing with his father. While Keating makes some tea, Neil says, looking a picture of a beautiful woman playing the chello on Mr. Keatings desk:
“She’s also in London. Makes it a little difficult.”
“How can you stand it?”
“You can’t go anywhere. You can’t do anything. How can you stand being here?”
“’Cause I love teaching. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
The last line is deftly delivered. It is pointed, quick and obvious. There is no thinking; teaching is fundamental to Mr. Keating. Most, if not all, teachers understand that phrase, “I love teaching”. Not many of us got into this profession for the love of something else.
But it is the second sentence, that answers Neil’s question. I don’t want to be anywhere else. What does Keating want? Before this moment, it’s not even a question on our minds. His wants outside of teaching are obscured. But in this scene, Keating is someone with love and a life outside of the private school he teaches at. With a life outside the cramped office and white walls that keep him focused on his work. “It is a little difficult” is said modestly.
— This scene starts with Mr. Keating sitting at his desk, working, but not focused. He keeps looking at the picture of the woman on his desk.
I love teaching. I don’t want to be anywhere else.