Return to Elders

Elders. What we need is a return to elders. The wise. Seers. These exist. These walk among us.

Not paperwork nor applications should choose our future leaders, but these. All is apparent. All is written on voice, on smile, on brow.

It is in these walking old souled humans upon whom we should hang our hopes, in whom we should rest. It is old vision, stripped of pretense and ambition, in which we should rest.

Experience, reverence, stead. On these. In these.

Not rule books. Not hoops. Not in tests even should we measure our students, our blushing prospects. No, give me Al Pacino, his blind and brash wisdom in Scent of a Woman... attesting to... that which cannot be seen but which is nonetheless seen by a man of fine age: character. Soul.

There are elders who know about soul. They can see it like another sees the color red. Give them back their divining sticks and circular discussions. Give us back our elders, singing and lighting the way, with gamble, with restraint.