If the Yardstick Were Different, Even I...

A friend from back home came all the way to visit me at my house.

Since they brought their children, we went for a picnic at a nearby park with large playground equipment.

There was a piece of equipment there called a "rope pyramid" made of interconnected ropes, but my friend's children were scared and could only climb up to the second level.

So I said, "Okay, I'll help you, let's try climbing to the top!" and taking our time, we increased the distance one step at a time (they climbed down and tried again many times), and in the end, the three of them were able to reach the top.

I've been good at climbing since I was a child; I'm good at things like monkey bars, horizontal bars, and rope climbing.

But the friend who came to visit is someone I've known since high school, so she only knew me as the clumsy person who was bad at everything in high school P.E. class—ball games, track and field, swimming, and vaulting boxes.

Seeing me climb up so easily, she was surprised, saying, "I've known you for 30 years, and I never knew you had that kind of talent!"

If tree climbing had been a P.E. subject, I could have been a hero instead of just a clumsy, short-statured person.

It's the same with other subjects; people who can naturally demonstrate their power within the mandatory subjects decided by someone else are truly happy and can enjoy their student life as winners, but I thought that those who aren't like that, even if they have other talents, might never have them discovered, and time might pass without them ever realizing that they have talents that excel above others.

People shouldn't be measured by how well they do in studies, sports, or whether they are good or bad at singing or drawing, yet I had accepted the yardstick used in school life too readily without thinking about it.

I felt strongly that I want to look for shining talents using my own yardstick, both for others and for myself.