These are the real reasons I teach, these people who grow and change in front of me. Being a teacher is being present at the creation, when the clay begins to breathe.
这些在我眼前成长、变化的人,便是我要当教师的真正原因。当一名教师意味着是创造的见证人,他目睹人体开始呼吸,开始有了生命。
A “promotion” out of teaching would give me money and power. But I have money. I get paid to do what I enjoy: reading, talking with people, and asking question like, “What is the point of being rich?”
“提升了”,不再教书了,也许会给我带来金钱和权力。 可是我现在也有钱。我拿了薪金去做自己乐意做的事:读书、交谈、提问,比如问:“做个富翁有什么意思呢?”
And I have power. I have the power to nudge, to fan sparks, to suggest books, to point out a pathway. What other power matters?
我现在还有权呢。我有权启迪,有权激发才智,有权开出书目,有权指点迷津。还有其他什么权力更值得考虑呢?
But teaching offers something besides money and power: it offers love. Not only the love of learning and of books and ideas, but also the love that a teacher feels for that rare student who walks into a teacher's life and begins to breathe. Perhaps love is the wrong word: magic might be better.
但教书还会带来金钱和权力以外的东西:那便是爱。不仅是爱学习、爱书本、爱思想,而且还有老师对出类拔萃的学生的爱。这样的学生走进了老师的生活,自己也开始成长了。爱这个字也许用得不恰当:说是“魔力”可能更为贴切。
I teach because, being around people who are beginning to breathe, I occasionally find myself catching my breath with them.
我教书,是因为在与开始成长的学生朝夕相处时,我有时感到自己也和他们一起开始成长了。