The many reasons why I love teaching present themselves throughout any day like a revolving door of simple pleasures. On this particular day, spinning through that door was the realization that one day I would be a father.
Today marked the arrival of the Council of International Schools, which meant thirty universities from the United States visiting our high school in Shenzhen for the rare chance of attending an American college fair. Students arrived to their classrooms at 07:40 with pressed shirts and clean jackets, ready to leave strong first impressions, but as I passed by their door, a pair of boys flagged me over in distress. After a few successful attempts of wrinkling, untangling and stretching their ties, the boys’ trial-and-error approach to a proper knot finally lost its charm; they had ten minutes to report to the auditorium to begin the college fair, and desperation was setting.
I set down my daily ration of pork buns and instant coffee to begin with Philip, who was at the tail-end of a growth spurt. Standing on the teacher’s pedestal, I straightened his tie and – miscalculating his comparatively longer upper torso on the first attempt – dialed a four-in-hand of appropriate length with the slightest dimple. Watching him leave the room with a complete look, a row of more independent boys relinquished their pride arranged in a service queue. Measure, pull, adjust. Measure, pull, adjust. Here and there, I released a bottom jacket button, refolded a collar, gave the wink and the gun.
Not lost on me is the importance of a good-fitting suit to convey an air of maturity, despite a baby face. Without a full suit & tie, unfamiliar teachers and parents have mistaken me for a sophomore. But every time moments like this arise, I can’t help but look forward to some inevitable point in the future when my own child comes to me, collar pointed up, with no idea how to use his first non-zip up tie.
In my growing appreciation for the craft of menswear, I often look forward most to the legacy that it imparts from one generation to the next, with eager fathers unlatching the bracelet of their wristwatch, links removed to fit their firstborn after graduation. The paternity of menswear gives the oldest, unchanging lessons. That when you look for help, you will receive it. That most times, taking your time to get it right on the first try beats the hell outta sweating it wrong in a dozen. That when you don’t know, go ask your dad.
I’m no font of wisdom, but when fatherhood begins, my aim is to be ready to teach what I’ve learned and what I’m learning still. We’ll start by straightening out that tie.
