Brown_Essay

“It is only once you have lost everything that you are free to pursue anything.” This quote, from Chuck Palahnuik’s novel Fight Club, was used in an introductory lecture in my Honors Philosophy class this August. While not an ancient quote, spoken by Plato or Cicero, it was a quote that reflected the virtues of my Philosophy professor, Jonathan Mederos. Mr. Mederos walked into our classroom the first day of class in silence; a “towering” five-foot-six-inches, and with hair slicked back into curls, leading us to find difficulty in taking him seriously. Since we, being Seniors, are “infallible”, we did not regard him with the merit he deserved. We were aware of the fact that he was a Belen graduate from 2003, which was (in our minds) not very long ago. We also made the assumption that since he was young like us, and had once sat in our desks, that his personality would be malleable: such is not the case. Mr. Mederos asked us to introduce ourselves, and as is typical of Senior young men, we turned our introductions into a spitting-contest: we compared SAT scores, girlfriends, and GPAs. Mr. Mederos remained quiet, as he knew he had a life changing experience in store for us. When the last student had spoken, he began his address. Using the criteria we deemed important, he told us about his Senior year at Belen Jesuit. He told us he scored a 1590 on his SAT, was a top recruit for baseball, cross-country, and track, and graduated third in his class. Once he had silenced us, he began his true sermon. In the weeks following his acceptance into Harvard his mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Since his mother had raised him alone, he was forced to decide between fostering his academic growth, or remaining at home to care for her. After consulting his girlfriend of three years he decided to stay home to care for his mom. Up until this point, we thought his story was a melodramatic account used to scare us into becoming men: we were gravely mistaken. He applied to the University of Miami, and was invariably accepted: with full scholarship. Towards the end of his first semester, he witnessed his mother die in a hospital bed, far removed from the rest of her family. The agony of his loss sent him into detachment, the likes of which caused his girlfriend to leave him, isolating him from his surroundings. He then turned to the seminary; a cloistered refuge from the atrocities committed unto him by the outside world. After three years, he decided that such was not the life for him, and applied for a job at Belen Jesuit. Using his high-school notebook as a reference, he entered his post as Philosophy professor this Fall. Remaining true to his roots, he trained with our cross-country team, waited in line with us in the cafeteria, and ate lunch alone. Until we realized the profundity of his wisdom, we were grateful to have someone new to poke fun at. Needless to say, the bell ending classes was not enough to make us leave Mr. Mederos’ classroom. We stayed well after school, turning deaf ears to phone calls from anxious friends waiting to be taken home. We remained in his classroom, sharing our personal accounts. We remained in his classroom to fully absorb that it is impossible to pass judgement on someone prior to uncovering the depths of their experience. We remained in his classroom to completely understand that the person we had previously criticized for running with our cross country team, waiting in cafeteria lines, and eating lunch alone, was a person we now stand in awe of: a modern-day Pheidippides, who runs not only to save himself, but those around him as well. Ours is a world lacking unsung heroes such as Mr. Jonathan Mederos, one that needs to experience humiliation to progress as a singular unit. Not much is expected from a high-school Philosophy teacher, especially one of such young age. But, when asked why he teaches, as opposed to pursuing any career his boundless intellect desires; he responds: “I teach because every time I walk into my classroom, there is a chance I stand in the presence of greatness.” Humility as such knows no parallel.