Role Model

Random Thoughts, Academics 2 Comments

It means exactly what it says.

Okay, let’s get this straight. First things first, we were - are would be a more appropriate word, since it’s still a necessity for the betterment of our grades - required by T. Ygy, our Comm. Arts teacher, to keep a blog and update it weekly. She’s going to give out questions at the start of each week and we’re supposed to answer them in our blogs with our thoughts, comments and, of course, responses to the given question. With no grammatical errors.

Oh, and hey. Due to a comment from my Dad (many thanks to you!) I edited my post and modified what was in need of…well, modification.

So, to the question!

For a “role model” to be a “role model,” he need not be perfect. He need not be a genius like Einstein, a world-famous athlete like Beckham or be the President of some country for people to admire him. For me, all that I can ever ask for in a person would be whatever there is in my Dad.

He isn’t perfect. Oh no, he also makes mistakes like everyone else. But the important thing is, he learns from them. A genius? What kind of knowledge are we pertaining to? Knowledge about Alpha-Carbon Reactions* or…or Nucleosynthesis of Heavy Isotopes*? No, he isn’t an astrophysicist. I don’t think he is. But the knowledge about us, his family? Oh, I can say he’s undeniably a genius in that field! And lastly, he isn’t world-famous. I don’t think a random guy in Caloocan who’s got nothing to do with him would give a damn about his name. But that’s what makes my Dad…him.

Before himself, his happiness, and even his well-being, he places us first. He’d gladly give anything to see us okay. He doesn’t go out with his barkada (I don’t even think he has one) but instead tries to go home early every day after work to spend more time with us. He’d try to help us with our homework when we need help, and even reads a book to my brother when my brother asks for a bedtime story despite his fatigue and desire to sleep. He laughs with us, eats with us, jokes with us, cares for us, loves us…

My Dad is just another ordinary father. He’s simple: he doesn’t need Armani designer clothes anytime during his whole lifetime. He’s caring: what else could be the reason behind the hours of work he spends everyday for his family? He’s loving: after all, what kind of un-loving father would put up with your mood swings and complaints and behavioral misgivings in your report card? And he’s well-versed when it comes to history. See? He’s just like any father.

But what separates him from them, what gives him a leverage and differentiates him, is the fact that he’s my Dad. And I love him for who he is. Bald spots and all.

* These are terms that I can safely say I have no idea what on earth they mean. Nevertheless, they are two words I got by searching for astrophysics terms. All disclaimers apply (do they, I mean I don’t know these terms and I just got it from a website?).