Greetings, mighty Zevist Family.
This chronicle explores my crucible as an English language teacher at a local grammar school. My primary aspiration is to illuminate the challenges an educator faces in the classroom, the impact of modern-day decadent culture, and the importance of elevating the assiduous, exceptional, and unyielding pupils above the chaotic, disruptive, and unfocused ones.
I. THE UNEXPECTED SUMMONS
Since every tale has a beginning, this chronicle starts from the cradle, or one glorious Wednesday while I was conversing with you about Zevism, philosophy, and miscellaneous knowledge on Vultus Templorum. I was in my apartment when I received a call from the aforementioned grammar school. It came from the principal, who inquired whether I could lend my knowledge and time, to which I responded with an affirmation. We both agreed to a meeting on the same day, and the excitement was burning inside me like a wildfire.
When I arrived at the school, the monitor student greeted me with respect and directed me to the principal’s office. I slowly made my way through the hallway and reached her office; after a firm knock on the door, she bid me enter. Upon entering, I was offered a seat, and I waited patiently while the principal meticulously went over my papers. Breaking the silence, she inquired about my previous teaching experience, to which I directly replied that I had already taught at several elementary schools. She proceeded to emphasize the prestige and strict seriousness of her institution, yet beneath her administrative posture, I detected a subtle doubt in her voice and mannerisms—a quiet panic over my youth that she couldn't easily conceal.
Though advised to ponder carefully on accepting the role, I returned home without wasting energy on overthinking; I was entirely keen on accepting, knowing that destiny favors the warrior and not the coward. When the principal subsequently messaged to ask if I had reached a final decision regarding the position, I answered her inquiry with a resounding yes, fully prepared to educate the young.
Ironically, shortly after delivering my affirmation, I received an unexpected call from the principal of an elementary school situated on the city's rugged outskirts, inquiring whether I could step in as a substitute educator. I eagerly desired to accept that proposal as well, but having already bound myself to a full-time position at the grammar school, I was forced to decline, recognizing that even the most resolute spirit cannot occupy two battlefields at once. Having already left my mark at that elementary school, its principal expressed genuine pride in my advancement to the grammar school and warmly wished me fortune in my new endeavor.
II. PREPARATION FOR THE LECTURE
The following Thursday, I met with the principal once more. She presented me with the necessary books, the class schedule, and the structured plans for the month of May. After receiving the materials, I returned home and spent some time in quiet contemplation, pondering the methods of approaching the lesson at hand. The lecture was centered around argumentative essay writing; after noting the crucial terminology and definitions, I structured the progression of the lesson with precision.
My preparation lasted until the witching hour, during which I meticulously verified the accuracy of my definitions and ensured the internal coherence of my design. Then, I retreated to my bed and enjoyed a well-deserved sleep that rejuvenated my vitality and mind.
When I awakened, the Apollonian sun greeted me with its austere glory, an unmistakable omen of a triumphant day ahead. Having welcomed the omen, I meticulously packed my notebook, materials, and laptop into my briefcase, securing the instruments of my impending lecture. I proceeded to wash my face and brush my teeth, purifying myself for the day ahead, after which I enjoyed a meal that fueled my ascent.
With my hunger sated and my power amplified, I donned my quilted jacket, navy blue pants, and a black overcoat, completely armored against the morning air. As I grasped my briefcase, my mother approached to smooth my hair, adjusting the final details of my appearance; before crossing the threshold of the apartment, I bestowed upon her the kiss of a devoted son.
III. MY FIRST DAY AT WORK
I savored my leisurely journey toward the grammar school, and the moment I crossed its threshold, an absolute certainty washed over me: I felt as though I had always belonged there. A colleague escorted me through the hallway and into the faculty room, where I placed my briefcase firmly upon the table while the morning recess was still underway.
While biding my time within that sanctuary, I encountered my new peers; among them stood my former biology instructor, whose countenance was already etched into my remembrance. I did not engage in extensive pleasantries, nor did I bother revealing that her features were familiar, reserving that disclosure for the weeks to come. I took the classroom keys from the cleaning lady and slipped into the hall of study, establishing my presence long before the bell rang.
As the bell fell silent, the 4.d class students entered in short order, exposing me to an immediate and unsettling view. Nearly every student entered the halls of study in a monotonous row, with their eyes hopelessly glued to their smartphones. Before even offering an introduction, I instinctively commanded them to hand over their smartphones, and they stared at me as though I were severing their very souls from their bodies. One by one, they slowly deposited the devices upon my desk, and as they proceeded to introduce themselves, I keenly noted the sharp anxiety that bled through their every word. Many struggled to answer even the most fundamental questions regarding their interests and hobbies—not from a deficit of knowledge, but from a total collapse of their capacity for interpersonal socialization.
A sudden surge of vital air enlivened the stagnant classroom as we began dissecting the architecture of the argumentative essay. While covering the essential definitions—from the core of an argument and the skeletal structure of a text to the contrast between subjective and objective writing—I made certain that every single student took their turn at the blackboard. It was beautiful to savor the solitude of the room alongside the lone voice of a single student preaching his knowledge, even though I was forced to badger the individual students with Socratic questions just to rouse their courage to answer.
The session with the class drew to a close, leaving me to face three consecutive hours of the same discipline with the remaining fourth-year classes.
When the 4.b class students entered the halls of study, they too arrived with phones gripped in their hands, yet they displayed no such grief when I stripped them of their devices. They immediately took their seats and introduced themselves, after which we proceeded with the exact same lesson I had just forged with the previous class. This class was composed of top-tier students, and there was no need to exhaust them with endless questioning simply to rouse a response. We managed to finish the lesson a full ten minutes before the final bell, spending the remaining time discussing their aspirations for the future. They met the dialogue with sharp, compelling questions, and it was precisely this class where, on my final day, I did something highly controversial—an act born out of pure devotion to four exceptional students.
Our session drew to a close, and the 4.a class students entered the halls of study. Though this class was typically split into two separate groups, a scheduling quirk had brought them together for a conjoint class on that day. The first group comprised a single male student alongside multiple female students, establishing themselves from the outset as a patient, quiet, and disciplined collection of individuals. Meanwhile, the second group contained a smaller number of pupils, among whom was a notable chatterbox, Noah. It took me a few classes to master his gregarious nature, not by scolding him, but by utilizing speech as a precise skill to engineer questions that forced him to speak directly on the topics of discussion. That is the true beauty of language study—speech is entirely welcomed, giving the educator the unique power to redirect raw expression toward a higher intellectual purpose. I executed the exact same theory about argumentative essay writing with them, and the entire lecture unfolded precisely according to plan. My first workday thus concluded on a triumphant note, and I returned home to rest my mind and contemplate the campaigns of the coming weeks.
In the upcoming section, I will elucidate my experiences with the second-grade classes over this two-week period, after which a separate, dedicated section will be reserved for the trials and triumphs of the fourth graders.
IV. MY TWO-WEEK EXPERIENCE WITH THE SECOND GRADERS
Throughout this entire two-week period, I strictly maintained my signature aesthetic, consistently adorning myself in formal shirts, a striking black overcoat, and stylish trousers. Alongside this visual standard, I consistently prepared rigorous lessons for the second graders, who were attending two types of English language courses: mandatory and elective.
The 2.d class students attended the mandatory course, where the lessons focused on vocabulary related to entertainment, various crimes, and the theoretical framework and grammatical properties of reported speech.
When I conducted my first class with them, I noticed two students who had previously been my pupils at the nearby elementary school. They were excited to see me and even asked if I remembered them, which I affirmed. Furthermore, they and their classmates handed over their phones without any complaints, which was a promising sight.
We did not squander much time on pleasantries; the students introduced themselves, and we immediately started our work. The first five minutes were spent on brainstorming. I wrote the word "entertainment" on the blackboard, and they added their own associations, such as movies, sports, dancing, singing, and TV series. We read a text on this topic and answered a series of comprehension questions, after which they forged a table listing their favorite movies, songs, and games. My grander task for them was to orchestrate their own movie by writing down its title, characters, and genre, while offering a concise three-to-five-sentence synopsis outlining the plot. In this manner, the students became the creators of their own alternative worlds. Moreover, even though many were anxious to speak, almost everyone received their turn in an orderly fashion, bringing our class to its natural epilogue.
I shall not elaborate on the lesson concerning various crimes, as it followed a similar approach to the previous one; instead, I shall focus on the lecture regarding reported speech. We defined the essential terminology related to reported speech and conversed on the topic. Afterward, I instructed them to focus on the table in their handbook, emphasizing that shifting from direct to indirect speech fundamentally requires a backshift in tense. We analyzed examples for each tense with the exception of the future perfect simple and continuous, a task they undertook with genuine enthusiasm. It was profoundly refreshing to witness the iceberg of their initial anxiety completely shattered. While practicing a set of sentences, many of them volunteered to approach the blackboard and perform. Among them was a highly assiduous student named Katja, who consistently fought to answer questions and execute tasks—a display of dedication that made me immensely proud.
Our final class together was reserved for purposeful leisure, during which we watched a documentary on Shakespeare and the Elizabethan theatre. While the film played, several students simultaneously revised materials for other subjects in hopes of securing higher marks—a pragmatism I chose not to contest at that moment. As our time drew to a close, I expressed my genuine desire for their continued intellectual growth, and we shared a truly heartfelt goodbye.
The students present for this elective course hailed from various second-grade classes, having deliberately chosen English over German. This elective course did not feature a strict curriculum; instead, I was granted the autonomy to design my own methodical approach utilizing curated videos and targeted exercises. Although our engagement was limited to a single block of double classes each Wednesday, I utilized this extended window to stimulate their cognitive skills through Socratic questionnaires and a nuanced introduction to Aristotelian teachings on virtue.
The first lesson delved into various professions, utilizing a curated selection of texts that detailed the lives of doctors, actors, educators, and police officers. Meanwhile, the accompanying Socratic questionnaires were designed to analyze the specific character traits each role demands and the underlying reasons for those requirements. Through this analysis, they were tasked with identifying the essential traits required for each role—discovering fundamental Aristotelian virtues such as courage, wisdom, and wit, alongside powerful traits like confidence, determination, ingenuity, intelligence, and strength.
I cautioned the students against the dangers of both a deficiency and an overabundance of specific traits, explaining how such imbalances lead to negative character mutations.
Courage was presented as the core virtue of any noble mind, though I emphasized that a deficiency in courage—manifesting as cowardice—is a guarantee of failure in life. This paralysis forces individuals to abandon monumental opportunities when they present themselves, routinely choosing the path of least resistance, which ultimately amounts to a surrender. Conversely, I noted that an overabundance of courage risks devolving into rashness, causing an individual to confront danger without critical reflection and to fail in mastering his own drives.
Confidence was similarly analyzed to showcase the dangers of its degradation into either insecurity or arrogance. I presented insecurity as a profound paralysis of self-worth—a state wherein an individual perceives all of life's challenges as insurmountable, leaving him utterly incapable of recognizing any value or sovereign purpose in his own existence.
Arrogance, on the other hand, was exposed as a fragile delusion—merely insecurity masquerading as confidence, a desperate projection used to conceal a lack of genuine internal substance. I emphasized that unlike a truly confident individual, the arrogant buffoon suffers from a psychological blindness—an affliction that causes him to grossly overestimate his own worth, while remaining entirely oblivious to the profound weaknesses he must confront to achieve genuine self-overcoming.
Following our analysis of these traits, the pedagogical focus shifted to an interactive application; the students approached the blackboard to record their parents' professions, actively deducing and defending the specific psychological traits necessary to execute those roles with honor. Through this practical exercise, we demystified the abstract concepts of virtue, bringing our inaugural lesson of the first week to a structured and successful conclusion.
Our final week was dedicated to the exploration of heroic figures—both historical and fictional. Using the structural foundation established in our previous session, I provided texts detailing the exploits of Batman, Harry Potter, Rocky Balboa, and James Bond, prompting the students to dissect these fictional archetypes through the precise diagnostic framework of our established virtues. Following their analysis of the readings, the students engaged in a vigorous discussion of each character's psychological profile, taking turns at the blackboard to map out and defend the defining attributes of these modern icons, such as Rocky’s unbreakable strength or James Bond’s lethal wit.
From there, we transitioned to the realm of absolute reality, dedicating our focus to a single, peerless historical personality: none other than Alexander the Great, Son of Zeus. I was proud of them when I heard that they had been familiar with the key information surrounding him. One student highlighted his legendary taming of the fierce stallion Bucephalus, while another demonstrated a keen awareness of his intellectual lineage as the pupil of Aristotle. To deepen their understanding, we examined a concise text detailing his famous exploits, followed by a brief animated film illustrating the legendary king's conquests. The profound silence and absolute focus they maintained throughout the screening filled me with a deep sense of pride. They were utterly immersed in the narrative, as the darkened room lent a majestic, almost mythic atmosphere to the presentation. The video presentation encompassed the eon of his birth, his childhood, and his sweeping conquests, while vividly illustrating his relentless desire to diffuse Hellenic culture across the known world.
When the film concluded, I explained how the Egyptian priests at the isolated Temple of Amun in the Siwa Oasis hailed him as the legitimate King of Egypt and the divine Son of Atum. I further illuminated this synthesis of divine realms, explaining that the Egyptian Amun was none other than Zeus, while my beloved deity, Lord Thoth, corresponded to Hermes. This revelation profoundly fascinated them, striking them as an esoteric truth that had remained hidden from them until that precise moment. I broke their silent reverie by inquiring about the specific virtues that characterized Alexander; the majority immediately answered with strength, courage, heroism, and unyielding determination. They were somewhat taken aback when I added intelligence, wisdom, and wit to the list, primarily because history lessons at the elementary and high school levels reduce his legacy to the sheer mechanics of the Persian conquest as a general event, completely omitting his profound love for philosophy and his brilliant, multi-layered strategic mind.
This crowned our lesson, after which I presented a motivational video where Rocky urges his son to embrace his own individuality and to ultimately surpass him—a sentiment that perfectly mirrors my own deepest aspiration for my students in relation to myself as their educator. Katja, who participated in this elective course, once again demonstrated her characteristic eagerness and strong will by actively answering my inquiries. Finally, I wished them all the best, and they departed the classroom in an atmosphere of profound, focused tranquility.
V. MY TWO-WEEK EXPERIENCE WITH THE FOURTH GRADERS
This section is reserved for my engagements with four distinct fourth-grade classes over the span of two weeks, which will be presented in an organized order. The primary objectives for these sessions encompassed rigorous preparation for their second written schoolwork, the execution and subsequent correction of the schoolwork itself, and the introduction of a specialized vocabulary lesson centered on the domain of the animal industry.
The students of the 4.a class proved quite phenomenal; however, as they had been divided into two distinct working groups, I shall delineate my observations of each group separately.
As established in the record of my inaugural workday, the first group was composed of a singular male student flanked by a cohesive band of female students. Due to the inherent discrepancies in their weekly academic schedule, coupled with the cancellation of a session in observance of International Workers' Day, this first group did not share the same volume of contact hours as their peers. During our restricted time, they executed the rigorous preparation for their written schoolwork; what proved genuinely exceptional was the profound silence and absolute investment they maintained throughout the process. Consequently, every student succeeded in producing a high-caliber preparation essay, leaving me thoroughly pleased with their performance.
On the day scheduled for the official second written schoolwork, a prominent football match took place, prompting me to grant the students the autonomy to execute the examination either immediately or during the subsequent session. Demonstrating commendable resolve, four female students elected to undertake the work that very day; as a reward for their swift execution, I dismissed them immediately on our last Friday—since English concluded their academic day—while their lingering colleagues were compelled to remain behind and complete the second written schoolwork. Collectively, this amazing group achieved stellar grades, an outcome that accurately reflected their consistent academic performance.
Within the group of the four distinctive students who had undertaken the examination earlier, a singular individual named Klara commanded my attention. Her written language exhibited an exceptionally profound level of creativity, manifesting an intellectual caliber that could easily rival my own, which prompted me to explicitly encourage her to permanently cultivate this creative power. Though she voiced a well-founded anxiety regarding the systemic devaluation of art—a tragic reality that undeniably plagues our nation today—I exhorted her never to relinquish her creative vitality, regardless of the trajectory she selects in life. I recognize authentic art as the ultimate barometer of a nation's spiritual health, and she represents precisely the rare, vital artist our culture desperately requires. Ultimately, their exceptional behavior and exemplary performance earned them a profoundly felt farewell speech from me, marking a dignified conclusion to our shared academic engagement.
The second group, by contrast, shared a significantly larger volume of contact hours with me, and they proved to be a challenge that tested my patience early on. If you recall, a student by the name of Noah was an inveterate chatterbox, routinely interrupting anyone who was speaking, whether it was me or his fellow classmates. When the day arrived for them to undertake their official written schoolwork, I did what needed to be done: I confiscated their mobile phones, ordered them to sit far apart from one another, and completely shut down Noah’s attempts to stall by shushing his meaningless questions and telling him flatly that I did not care. This approach proved exceptionally lethal in its execution, as it ensured absolute, maximum focus among my students, who ultimately achieved amazing grades.
While conducting the vocabulary lesson regarding animal farm industries, I managed to seamlessly direct Noah's naturally extroverted energy toward the central themes of the text. He and his colleagues were presented with an intensive reading selection and a series of targeted questions, through which they ultimately determined that it is structurally unwise to completely reject meat from the human ecosystem. They agreed that a strict, calculated balance must be maintained; interestingly, I developed an incredibly deep bond with Noah and his peers, as their low numbers allowed me to dedicate a profound, uncompromised focus directly onto them. Nowadays, whenever I travel near the river, I frequently encounter one particular student from this class, though his name has sadly escaped my memory. He always greets me with deep respect, a fitting reflection of how incredibly active and engaged he was during our sessions together.
The students of the 4.d class proved slightly more difficult to comprehensively evaluate due to a series of unexpected circumstances.
We unfortunately lost a critical hour of class time, and during our scheduled preparation session, a meager three students were actually in attendance; the remainder of the class had been granted explicit permission by the pedagogue to step away and finalize their graduation theses. Nevertheless, those three individuals performed exceptionally well during the preparations, and when the day finally arrived for the class as a whole to undertake their official written schoolwork, the collective result was nothing short of amazing. They were remarkably attentive throughout the vocabulary lesson, with each student systematically taking turns to answer my targeted inquiries regarding the exact same thematic material the previous class had covered. Our final day together was spent watching a film—a rewarding departure that I shared with the other fourth-grade sections as well, with the sole exception of the first group of the 4.a class.
The behavior of the 4.e class students proved to be an immense challenge that almost pushed me to the edge of insanity. When I asked the students to introduce themselves, it became immediately clear that the majority of the male students lacked even a shred of seriousness regarding their interests or future aspirations. They did not view their own lives as something of consequence; they simply did not care. Their replies encompassed two or three-word answers, mostly repeating the gibberish of others. It was clear that these students were little more than synchronized bots, mindlessly repeating the same vapid slogans they had ingested from social networks. While they were occasionally disruptive, they practiced a form of natural segregation: they willingly retreated to the back of the room, leaving the four truly remarkable students to occupy the front. The latter patiently followed my instructions and penned down everything I told them to write; they never complained about being 'burdened' by too much knowledge. Among them, Ana Maria stood as a pristine gem, for she was as attentive as an eagle. When the entire class was given the choice to watch the game or remain in the classroom, she decided to stay; I allowed her to study history, a subject she was determined to master. When it comes to the official schoolwork, this class achieved a lower average score than other classes, despite being language majors and my grading being notably lenient for all graduates—a grace that the other classes, unlike these, actually utilized to elevate their results, ironically.
I did not fully ignore those male students in the back; instead, I issued them a warning when their conversations turned toward their obsession with gambling. They were told bluntly that, regardless of the odds, they would inevitably lose more money than they would ever win, for gambling is a vice fueled by the hollow hope of the desperate—a path that leads nowhere, as it eschews the necessary discipline of hard work and struggle. I even went so far as to tell them that their parents would not always be there to shield them and provide them with money, adding that it was vital for them to acknowledge this reality and begin to take their lives seriously. They simply shrugged off my warnings with the vacant indifference of those already resigned to their fate. Realizing that the path of mediocrity and failure was a choice they were making willingly, I ceased to bother with them because everyone must suffer the consequences of their own decisions in life.
I turned my back on the shadows of the rear benches, shifting my focus entirely back to Ana Maria and the other three exceptional students who remained at the forefront of the classroom. On our penultimate day, the disruptive students continued their typical behavior, though I did not bother wasting my time on them. I simply marked their names in the class journal without even notifying them, despite the fact that they clearly sensed it was happening. There was a student by the name of Iva who attempted to haggle her way into a grade higher than a C. I did not indulge her bargaining; instead, I simply indicated the mistakes she had made and why they precluded any possibility of a higher mark. She was caught using a mobile phone during class, and I commanded her to hand it over. She attempted to appeal to me democratically, claiming it was unfair and impolite to confiscate her property, but I remained indifferent to her complaints and informed her that it was far more impolite to chatter and use a phone while I was teaching. She remained silent until the end of the class, at which point I returned her device. Our final class hour was spent watching a film, during which the class remained uncharacteristically calm and focused, for their head teacher had thoroughly chastised them after observing the disciplinary marks I had entered into the class journal. To witness this class transform from a disorganized rabble into a properly structured, silent assembly by the end of my tenure was, in its own grim way, a profoundly satisfying testament to the power of unwavering order.
VI. THE NIETZSCHEAN HAMMER
If you noticed, the 4.b class was not mentioned in the previous section, and there is a specific reason for it. They were consistently the best students without a shred of doubt, for they never complained about handing over their phones or being instructed to perform to the best of their abilities. Also, Boris—the standout student of his generation—established dominance in every field of study, and his calm, patient demeanor perfectly complemented his intellect. When it comes to the official written schoolwork, they dominated it by achieving an excellent score as a collective.
However, on our penultimate day, three female students began talking uncontrollably while I was explaining a lesson on vocabulary, disturbing the silence required by their colleague, Anastasia, who was busy completing her official schoolwork after an absence. This was when I did something that might be deemed controversial, but it was an instinctual reaction. I was standing near the three students and thunderously shouted, "Silence, women!"
This immediately brought their chattering to an end, and one of them, Maria, turned around and reacted with a puzzled look. I summoned her to the blackboard so she could complete the next sentence concerning food consumption and farming; she performed brilliantly, and I offered her my genuine commendation. However, when she expressed doubt regarding my faith in her confidence, I simply informed her and the other two female students that they would be required to remain with me for an additional five minutes the following day.
On the following day, the class watched a film detailing the history of animals, which included a segment on ancient Egypt. Anastasia requested to remain with the other three female students at the end of the lecture out of genuine curiosity to hear my words. While the class watched the film, I took the opportunity to inquire about their future collegiate aspirations; Maria expressed her intent to pursue stomatology, while Petra found herself torn between the rigorous paths of philosophy and psychology. However, their exchange was abruptly interrupted when a male student hurled mocking remarks at Marija, who immediately took the bait. I intervened instantly, preventing them from descending into the kind of exhausting, petty argumentation.
Just before the movie reached the epilogue and the bell rang, I commanded the male students to depart from the halls of study, while the four female students were ordered to remain and to sit right in front of me.
I asked them if they had been loud the day before, and they admitted it. Then, I asked if they considered themselves women. They had no answer; they only sat there in profound silence. Since they were obviously petrified, I affirmed that they are women and asked them my final question: whether being a woman is a mark of shame or not. Once again, they responded with silence, so I decided to stop asking questions and to proceed with a lesson in wisdom that I wanted to bestow upon them.
At the exordium of my speech, I told them that being a woman is not a mark of shame, but rather a source of pride because it defines their very being and existence; it is who they are. I turned my eyes on Maria and asked why she had doubted my belief in her confidence the day before. I told her that her doubt in my belief was not a dismissal of me, but a mirror of her own self-doubt—a failure to recognize the worth that I, from my perspective, clearly saw in her. I then demanded she account for why she had permitted such a trivial provocation, allowing a colleague to bait her with his insults and label her 'dumb'—a trap she should have been far too strong to fall into. Her silence did not waver, so I continued, reminding her that her level of knowledge far surpasses that of the colleague who mocked her, and that there is no reason for her to grant his opinion any power. I told her she must not let the opinions of others—especially those beneath her—become a reflection of her own worth, reminding her that, as Nietzsche noted, a noble soul has reverence for itself. This advice was intended not only for Maria, but for Anastasia, Petra, and the other young woman present; it was a principle of nobility, born of confidence, that I demanded each of them adopt.
I then uttered a truth that many today deem controversial, yet which I hold to be absolute: I reject the lie of equality. I explained that we differ fundamentally in our discipline, our knowledge, our skills, and our true value to the world. To illustrate this, I echoed the name of Heraclitus, reminding them that the four of them—if they are the best—are worth more than ten thousand who are not. That is precisely why I had isolated them and commanded them to remain in the stillness of the hall of study. It was an act of necessity, designed to accentuate the gravity of their worth and to purge the disease of doubt—and every other lingering weakness—from their spirits before they could return to the world outside.
I continued by telling them that wisdom dwells among the few, never the many. This distinction was crucial, for I demanded they learn to discern the nature of those around them: to separate those who truly wish them well—offering the hard, constructive counsel necessary for their advancement—from those who offer nothing but the hollow and vainglorious advices that would prove detrimental for their spirit.
At the climax of my speech, I introduced destiny not as a cold, indifferent force, but as a woman whose champion is the warrior. I looked them in the eyes and demanded they become those champions—the warrioresses and lionesses who refuse to surrender, who step boldly outside the mediocre crowd, and who reject the hollow existence of living in another’s shadow. I told them that the path to true mastery is forged only by those ready to conquer any challenge through unyielding courage and relentless hard work.
The final pillar of my address was the invocation of Pythagoras, the Aristocratic Philosopher of Samos and Croton. I spoke to them of his reverence for the tetractys, specifically his belief in the number four as a foundational pillar, for in its summation—one, two, three, and four—it yields the sacred ten. I traced this progression for them clearly, demonstrating that the synthesis of their individual strengths forms the totality of the decade. I concluded by declaring that ten is the number of cosmic perfection, and that the four of them, in their collective unity, embody that very ideal. With that, my speech reached its definitive close, leaving the silence of the hall to do the work that my words had begun.
The silence was finally broken by Petra. She spoke with a hesitant honesty, admitting she had spent the entire time in a state of dread, certain that I had called them here to punish them for some perceived failure. As she looked at me, her expression shifted from fear to genuine, startled surprise; the weight of her expectation had been completely upended by the weight of my words. She confessed that she had never heard advice of such substance before. I watched her closely, noting the sharp, analytical spark in her eyes—a clear aptitude for the study of the human psyche. If she were to apply that same methodical approach to the field of psychology that she found interesting, she would find it a formidable tool for understanding the very world she was beginning to conquer.
Anastasia spoke next, confirming that the other girls had felt the same dread, bracing themselves for a harsh judgment that never came. Instead, the final hour had unfolded into something completely unexpected. She confessed, with absolute honesty, that in all her thirteen years of schooling, she had never received advice of such value as in those few minutes. As she spoke, I knew we had reached that critical point—the kairos, the decisive moment that stands apart from ordinary time. It was an awakening that would be seared into their memories forever, the point where their education finally transcended the standard pedagogical approach and moved into the realm of true, lasting significance.
Maria and her colleague remained silent, though their quietude was not the stagnant hesitation of the past, but the profound stillness of a metamorphosis taking hold within. I observed them closely, recognizing in their composure the hardening of resolve—a internal alchemy that would fundamentally alter their approach to the world long after the hall had emptied. Their silence was the deliberate focus of those who have finally understood the necessity of their own transformation. When I signaled that we were finished, they departed from the classroom not as mere students, but as beings imbued with an elevated spirit, stepping out into the day with the gravity of those who have seen their destiny and accepted the challenge.
VII. TRIUMPHANT ENDING
When I finally returned home on that last day, a profound sense of satisfaction settled over me—a pride not born of vanity, but of the quiet certainty that I had successfully transmitted the fire. I spent the evening methodically organizing the texts, notes, and academic materials I had been entrusted with, treating each item as a relic of the path we had begun to carve. I had already informed the principal that I would deliver these materials to the school on the following Monday, marking the physical end of this chapter. As I finished, I realized that while the books were ready to be returned, the work itself had already taken root in the minds of those who were now beginning their own transformation.
I entered the grammar school with the stack of books firm in my grip. I was immediately met by a chorus of voices, as second and fourth graders alike called out to me across the hall and approached me with palpable joy on their visages. Once I handed the materials over to my colleagues, I turned toward the exit. Before I could leave, I heard my name called out; I turned to find Anastasia, Maria, Petra, and their colleague waving to me. Their faces held a genuine, bright happiness, a final acknowledgment of the time we had shared and the lessons that had taken root. Without returning their shouts across the distance, I simply waved back with a steady smile. I ventured home in the quiet certainty that I had succeeded in arming them for whatever path they might choose; the fire had been passed, and it was now theirs to harness in the pursuit of their own greatness and to become the gods of their own age.
VIII. THE FINAL VERDICT: IS TEACHING A WORTHWHILE CALLING
In the end, my time at the grammar school was a spectacular endeavor, defined by the epic unfurling of the final day. The challenges were numerous, but each one served as a vital forge for my growth as an educator.
When it comes to primary obstructions to student development today, my chronicle obviously accentuates the erosion of attention, an addiction to trivial validation and social network stupidity, a lack of intellectual autonomy, unproductive usage of technology, poorly developed face-to-face social skills, and the pervasive laziness that causes them to abandon any pursuit requiring sustained, disciplined effort.
My Zevist brethren, especially those of you aspiring to become educators, know that these challenging obstructions are hampering the development of young people and, consequently, society as a whole. When inside a democratic classroom, you are expected to educate every student and to direct him on the correct path in life, but know this: if you ever encounter students who simply do not honor your words nor show any respect for your attempts to motivate them to work, do not blame yourself nor spend much time on them. Your mindset should be oriented towards the cultivation of excellence by focusing on students who truly strive for knowledge, greatness, and personal growth. Never sacrifice much of the time you could spend with them just to get their antitheses to understand that life without struggle leads nowhere.
Lastly, if you were to ask me whether being an educator is worth it or not, I would answer with a resounding no. My advice to you, if you value your spirit and your sanity, is to look elsewhere. While this sacred calling gives you an opportunity to notice and help guide young boys and girls with a burning desire for excellence, the misbehaving students, on the other hand, are not the only burden for educators in my country.
To be an educator in my country is to be treated as a disposable object, a systemic failure that everyone ignores while the foundation of our culture crumbles. Despite being one of the main pillars of the society, educators are often targeted as scapegoats for the failures of the political machine and the parents themselves.
There was a case of an educator in a neighboring country, Croatia, who was physically assaulted by a group of students while others filmed it on their phones. The footage revealed a reality far different from the media’s narrative: a student deliberately stood over the educator, aggressively shoving a finger into his face to provoke a reaction. When the educator finally retaliated, the surrounding students—who had been cheering on the provocation—captured the moment to frame him.
The response from the top was immediate and cowardly: the Minister of Education rushed to accuse the educator of being intoxicated at work without a shred of evidence—a charge that was never proven, yet served its purpose in framing the narrative. Simultaneously, the media acted as the willing instrument of this smear campaign, directing the entire weight of the blame onto the teacher the moment the incident broke, effectively turning a victim of systemic decay into a public target. Yet, in a rare turn, the truth was not entirely stifled. Independent researchers and vigilant citizens who scrutinized the footage exposed these falsehoods, rebuking both the media and the school administration, which had desperately hoped to silence the scandal by firing the educator.
In the end, the legal proceedings concluded with the decision that the educator would not be sent to prison—a hard-won victory for a man who, having already served his country as a veteran of the Homeland War and endured the personal agony of losing his wife and three other family members, was forced to survive one final betrayal at the hands of the students he served and the state that abandoned him. Even then, the machine had the final word; he was barred from the classroom, effectively stripped of his vocation and cast into a professional exile as the price for daring to remain human in a world that demands only compliance.
Beyond the specific tragedy of the individual, there lies the systemic rot of the institution itself: the systematic reduction of the educator to a mere commodity. We are managed by the state not as mentors of the next generation, but as disposable assets. Most of us are relegated to a cycle of limited-term contracts, where the dream of a permanent job remains a phantom, forever out of reach despite the years of rigorous sacrifice and intellectual labor poured into our formation. Whether we are bound by temporary or permanent contracts, the reality remains the same: our salaries are abysmal, a deliberate insult to the profound weight and historical prestige that should naturally surround the role of the educator.
The rot is fueled at home. Many parents act as enablers, consistently making excuses for their children's misbehavior rather than holding them accountable. They often challenge our evaluations, acting as 'experts' in fields where they are completely clueless. They view grades as a commodity to be argued over, not a measure of truth. By shielding their children from the consequences of their actions, these parents rob them of the ability to face reality and ensure they remain soft, entitled, and incapable of disciplined effort.
In the most extreme cases, this entitlement turns aggressive; parents may resort to verbal slander or even direct physical assault against the educator. Seeing this behavior, it is no surprise that their children mirror the same disrespect. When the home is built on a foundation of hostility and arrogance, we cannot expect anything but decay in the classroom.
Of course, we must acknowledge that there are great parents who do the hard work of raising their children with realism and integrity. These parents understand that growth requires discipline and accept results as they truly are, rather than as they wish them to be. Yet, even among the most dedicated and hardworking families, we see the struggle; many are forced to contend with the overwhelming pressure of negative societal influences that pull their children away from excellence. It is a testament to the strength of the cultural rot that even a sound upbringing is not always a guarantee against the tide of modern mediocrity.
As a young educator, I have not had to face the extreme violence or the worst parental interference that some educators did. Still, I am fully aware of the environment we are in. Despite the systemic rot, the lack of respect for our profession, and the weight of the machine, I am driven by the few. Young minds like Ana Maria, Anastasia, Boris, Petra, and other identical students keep the fire alive; they are the reason I continue to teach. They remind me that even in a world obsessed with triviality, the pursuit of excellence is not yet dead. For them, and for the sake of the craft, I carry on with my quest.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I offer my profound gratitude to the Gods. I thank especially Lord Thoth, the Master of Knowledge, Language, Wisdom, and Writing, for serving as the guiding star upon my path as an educator. In a world that has forgotten the weight of words and the sanctity of intellect, it is under His divine aegis that I have sought to preserve the fire of truth, ensuring that for at least a few, the light of wisdom never flickered out.
I also bestow my highest praises upon High Priest Zevios Metathronos, whose unrivaled leadership and boundless wisdom serve as the unshakeable pillars of the Temple of Zeus. Beyond his direct intellectual guidance, it is his inspiring aura that has moved us all to devote our lives to the relentless pursuit of self-improvement and the creation of greatness. Through his guidance, I have learned that to truly educate is not merely to convey information, but to command the spirit and sharpen the intellect, preparing the worthy to stand firm against whatever adversities may come their way.
A special thank you is reserved for my brother, Isothemides, whose own chronicles stand as monuments of clarity. The tremendous labor he has poured into his writings serves as an invaluable beacon for those new to our path, providing both the map and the resolve necessary for novice Zevists to find their footing. It was his recognition of my own knowledge and his counsel that prompted me to record these experiences in a form that might prove beneficial for our community.
Of course, I cannot forget the rest of the clergy, the guardians, and my Zevist brethren. You have all been exceptional additions to my life, and I am honored to be counted among you. Your unwavering dedication to our shared ideals has deeply influenced my own path; your collective hard work has rubbed off on me, serving as a constant fire that prompts me to give my absolute best in every pursuit, both within the walls of the classroom and beyond.