No se trata de rendirse. Hace poco conocí a una chica que entre grandes aspavientos se quejaba de una de las asignaturas de la carrera. Revolvía los apuntes y pasaba las páginas del manual con desesperación. “No me importa nada. ¡Qué me interesa a mí esto! Ni siquiera es útil”. Naturalmente, como ocurre la mayoría de las veces que nos dejamos dominar por la obcecación, estaba equivocada. Sí le interesaba, o debería interesarle, porque era una tema que repercutía en su día a día, y era útil, se dedicase o no a la Comunicación. Me quedé mirándola, no recuerdo bien si con una sonrisa burlona o triste, en tal situación ambas habrían servido. “Es horrible, ¡a mí qué me importa!” –me dijo, pese a que no me conocía de nada–. “Este hombre sólo dice bobadas”. Y entonces no pude evitar echarme a reír.
Recordé las veces que enfrente de los telediarios había repetido lo poco que me interesaba la política. Cuando en mi horario del primer cuatrimestre vi una asignatura dedicada a los sistemas políticos contemporáneos me desesperé. ¿Qué iba a ser de mí?... Qué dulce ignorancia, las primeras clases rompieron todos mis esquemas. Empecé a acercarme a ese mundo que había etiquetado como “hostil” y descubrí que lo entendía, que había un sentido... y que me gustaba. Contra todo pronóstico, fue la asignatura a la que más tiempo le dediqué y con la que más disfruté.
De modo que, cuando mi compañera de clase comenzó a rechazar la nueva asignatura sin haber intentado comprenderla, en seguida supe dónde estaba la solución. “Es la actitud” –comenté–. “Depende de cómo decides enfrentarte a los retos”.
Es cierto, aunque ella acogió el consejo con ironía: suspiró con dramatismo y simuló escuchar con atención al profesor, repitió alguna de sus frases como si se le fuera la vida en ello y comentó con su amiga lo divertido que era la ley de la oferta y la demanda.
No se trata de simular interés hacia aquello a lo que nos enfrentamos, ni de rendirnos, entonces continuaremos igual que cuando estábamos en el punto de partida, sino de mirarlo con otros ojos y creer que somos capaces. Cuando se trata de ponerse límites, muchas veces nos convertimos en nuestro propio antagonista. Le ponemos punto y final a la historia antes siquiera de sentarnos a escribirla.
It’s not a matter of giving up. Not long ago I met this girl who, with much fuss, was complaining about one of her college classes. She shuffled through her notes and anxiously flipped through her workbook. “I don’t care about anything. Why would this interest me! It’s not even useful.” Naturally, as usually occurs when we let blindness take over our beings, she was wrong. It did interest her, or it should, since it was a subject that cropped up in her day-to-day life, and it was useful, whether or not she decided to go into the field of Communications. I simply stared at her, I can't remember if with a teasing smile or a sad one, in such a situation either would've made do. “It’s horrible! What do I care,” she told me, even though she did not know me at all. “This man only babbles.” And at that point, I couldn’t help laughing.
I remembered the many times that, in front of the News cameras, I had repeated the little interest I had in politics. When I found a class dedicated to the contemporary political science on my first quarter schedule, I panicked. What do I do?... What sweet ignorance; the first classes would break down all my plans. I began to approach this world that I had labeled as “hostile” and discovered that I understood it, that now it had a meaning… and that I liked it. Against all odds, it was the class I put most effort into, and the one I enjoyed the most.
Therefore, when my classmate began to reject her new class, I immediately knew where the solution was. “It’s the attitude,” I commented. “It’s all about how you face your challenges.”
It’s true, although she took the advice with sarcasm: she sighed dramatically and pretended to avidly listen to the professor, she whispered a few sentences to herself as if her life depended on it and discussed with her friend how fun the laws of supply and demand were.
It’s not about feigning interest for the things we are confronted with, nor about giving up, otherwise we would simply continue as if nothing had changed, but about looking at our challenges
from another point of view and believing that we are capable of surpassing them. When it comes to setting limits for ourselves, oftentimes we become our own antagonists. We put the final touches on our story before we can even sit down to write it.
***
I remembered the many times that, in front of the News cameras, I had repeated the little interest I had in politics. When I found a class dedicated to the contemporary political science on my first quarter schedule, I panicked. What do I do?... What sweet ignorance; the first classes would break down all my plans. I began to approach this world that I had labeled as “hostile” and discovered that I understood it, that now it had a meaning… and that I liked it. Against all odds, it was the class I put most effort into, and the one I enjoyed the most.
Therefore, when my classmate began to reject her new class, I immediately knew where the solution was. “It’s the attitude,” I commented. “It’s all about how you face your challenges.”
It’s true, although she took the advice with sarcasm: she sighed dramatically and pretended to avidly listen to the professor, she whispered a few sentences to herself as if her life depended on it and discussed with her friend how fun the laws of supply and demand were.
It’s not about feigning interest for the things we are confronted with, nor about giving up, otherwise we would simply continue as if nothing had changed, but about looking at our challenges
from another point of view and believing that we are capable of surpassing them. When it comes to setting limits for ourselves, oftentimes we become our own antagonists. We put the final touches on our story before we can even sit down to write it.
Texto traducido por: Carolina Rodríguez García.
