The Voucher
Translated from the Romanian with AI. Written in Romanian, translated into English once by an AI model and not revised by the author. Where the two differ, the original counts: Voucherul.
I think some people deserve a voucher from the divine: non-transferable, good for a few hundred more years of healthy life. Not many people. Most of us are given enough life for what we know how to do with it.
I don’t think I would deserve such a voucher. The sum has to be done forwards, in fact: I am not convinced that, in a hundred extra years, I would do the world enough good to earn another hundred.
Among the rightful holders there would be people from every walk of life: philosophers, writers, housekeepers, nurses, doctors, scientists, even politicians, yes. But one category would dominate this virtuous squad, categorically: teachers, in all their incarnations. Nursery teachers, primary teachers, secondary and high-school teachers, university lecturers, the foremen of a vocational school, or of some workshop where an apprentice is shown how to change a brake pad, or how to cut a joint so the wood holds a little longer. All those who give away part of themselves, without rest and without selfishness, so that the rest of us learn to do, to know, to feel, to be.
Not everyone can become such a teacher. Not everyone has the calling, the talent, the patience, the tact, the perseverance and the spirit it takes to become this giant of humanity. Arghezi urges me to call these people dascăli, but, inexplicably, I don’t like the word. So I stay with învățător.
Translator’s note. Both words mean teacher. Dascăl is older and more solemn, with an echo of the church. Învățător, from the verb for both learning and teaching, is the everyday word for a primary-school teacher. Tudor Arghezi (1880–1967) made the tabletă a genre.