In my heart of hearts, I was envious of each of them. They were touching souls and elevating spirits

My mother was a teacher. She thrived on engaging her students, relating to them, directing them. Public speaking made her feel strong and alive, and she connected to many people at once through this platform.

Throughout my adult life, my mother has been urging me to speak, teach, and transfer knowledge to others in such an arena.

“Don’t you want to be at the forefront of changing lives?” she would ask. “Isn’t giving over Torah wisdom a most elevated goal?”

But I can’t. I’ve always been painfully shy. To me, public speaking is a close relative to public flogging. And while I love to engage people one-on-one, trying to present to many people all at one time seems utterly overwhelming.

And so, predictably, I ended up majoring in computer science and for many years worked designing software for a big defense firm. As my family grew and I wanted to limit my work hours, I decided to turn my efforts to working close by in a setting in which I could interface with my community. I ended up, of all places, in my children’s school, supporting their educational technology needs.

In line with the groundskeeper and the building manager, I was part of the shadow background. I looked at the teachers as frontline warriors, doing the most important work of the times. I watched with awe as they analyzed each child to try to reach them most efficiently. I admired how they reacted with patience to those kids who needed extra help. I was enthralled by how they passionately inspired students with creatively presented lessons that were works of art.