The other day I stopped by my Russian Folklore professor’s office to discuss the role of women in the religious conversion from paganism to monotheism. This man intrigues me. He is 82 years old, he sits while lecturing, and stares right through you and the world around him, harboring secrets that old age has gradually dimmed down. Little things find their way into our lectures, like how Boris Pasternak was one of his neighbors when he was a child. Even though he doesn’t say much outside of linguistics and folklore, you can tell that he is just brimming with all sorts of knowledge and stories.

When I stopped by his office and started talking, he told me to speak up as he systematically cupped his left hand around his ear. I ended up shouting for a couple of minutes. I was shouting so he could hear what I had to say.

And that got me thinking: isn’t that what we find ourselves doing for the rest of our lives? Aren’t we shouting so that we could be heard?