Effort | Keiichi Yoshino (Dean, Faculty of Nursing and Medical Care)
October 7, 2004
The editor told me, "This time, it's a free topic." But, alas, that wasn't the case. As I read on, it said, "Just one thing, since summer vacation is over and the new semester is starting, I would appreciate it if you could write something that will encourage students to brace themselves." In "Okashira Nikki," I don't write about that many things in one entry, so "free" was just a formality. However, I understand the editor's consideration. If it were completely "free," they would be anxious about what might be written, and there's the concern that one might not start writing without some kind of prompt.
But is it really possible to write "something that will encourage students to brace themselves"? I'd like to see such a thing myself; anyone who could write it would have to be a genius.
To begin with, can this kind of essay truly be of any benefit to students? I think the same can be said for various speeches or so-called "biographies of great people." While I believe there is plenty of content that could be beneficial to students, I can't help but feel, from my own experience, that it's almost impossible for them to digest, absorb, and use it as effective energy. I believe this stems from the difference in values arising from the vast disparities—both in quality and quantity—in position, age, gender, and life experience between the writer or speaker and the student audience.
Yet, sometimes, these essays and speeches can truly strike a chord. I believe this happens to those who have made an effort in the past or are currently making an effort regarding the topic at hand. I always believe that "effort doesn't guarantee good fortune, but without effort, good fortune will slip away." (You don't make much effort for someone who says that, do you?: a voice from the shadows). When it comes to effort, methods vary from person to person, but as we age, the quantity, if not the quality, increases. That's why I've observed that the frequency of knowing looks and nods in an audience correlates with age. To use a golf analogy, it's like textbook advice that made no sense when you were a poor player. Much later, after improving your skills, you finally realize, "Ah, so that's what it meant!" and bask in the joy of that realization. This joy, too, is impossible without constant, dedicated practice.
The crucial thing, I believe, is to constantly reaffirm the attitude that our lives can only be improved through our own individual efforts. This is because so-called great success requires three factors: "talent, effort, and good fortune," and of these, the only one we can control is "effort." Let's all strive to do our best.
Did that help you brace yourselves, even a little? It seems being a genius is far beyond my reach. (The End)
(Date Published: October 7, 2004)