"Wisdom from the Past"
by. Joel Bowman
“I never found anything as uncertain as the word ‘future,’
but I always had plans for reaching it.”
~ László Bíró, inventor of the ballpoint pen (1899–1985)
Buenos Aires, Argentina - "This week, your future uncertain editor journeyed into the past... Mariana is 94-years young and greets her guests with the vim and vigor of someone not yet half her age, which is roughly where your editor stands. She is the founder and director of a well-regarded learning institute here in Buenos Aires. More than that, as was evidenced during the hour or so we spent with the gran dama and some of her students, she is also “el alma de la escuela” (the soul of the school).
The daughter of polymath inventor László Bíró, he of the ballpoint pen, or “biro,” fame (who also happened to be an Olympic wrestler, because some people are just better), Mariana met us at the door to her appropriately-named School of the Sun. “We have a great many important things to discuss,” she began, with a glint in her eye, “but first: coffee.”
A keen and bright-eyed interlocutor, Mariana speaks in the graceful Spanish of a bygone era. Only when a proper English noun, perfectly accented, finds its way into her cadence is one made instantly aware of her ability to converse with similar ease and facility in more than one language. She is patient, attentive to detail, and at least as interested as she is interesting, a phenomenal trait for someone who has seen nigh on a century on this planet. Oh, and she works nine hours a day… Monday through Friday… come rain, hail or shine. Again, some people are just better.
During our encounter, Mariana spoke of her passion for education, for the childlike curiosity she has spent more than six decades nurturing in her pupils, and for the inventiveness her institution cultivates in them as a matter of purpose. (Next month they will dedicate entirely to celebrating inventors both of the past and future.)
“We have children here from many countries and backgrounds,” she began, interlacing her fingers. “Some are not so fond of mathematics when they first arrive. It is our role to bring that subject alive for them, to help them see than mathematics is alive and all around them. If you want to know how far it is to the ice-cream shop, that’s mathematics. If you are meeting a friend at the train station at a certain time, mathematics. If you want to sharpen a pencil or play on a swing or look at the stars, mathematics. Our students come from all around the world, and we welcome them all. But wherever they are from, we as teachers work to give meaning to the inevitable and marvelous fact that two plus two always equals four.”
After cafés cortados and more tales than we can here recall, we found ourselves in the foyer of the building, only to realize we had forgotten our jacket. Without resource to the age-old, old age excuse, we were busily formulating an explanation for our blunt absentmindedness when we saw Mariana down the hall, making her rounds. Swept along by a wave of little arms, la directora must have received a dozen hugs from one door to the next. “¡Te queremos mucho, directora!” chorused the little voices. (“We love you very much, director!”)
At first we wondered how the nonagenarian managed to remain upright amidst the throng... then we realized that, just as this inspiring woman has spent a lifetime holding these children aloft, so too do they support their beloved director. Perhaps that is kind of human math. In the meantime, please enjoy our little series on Futures Uncertain, below…"
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