Children are already accustomed to a world that moves faster and

Hear now the words of Major Owens: “Children are already accustomed to a world that moves faster and is more exciting than anything a teacher in front of a classroom can do.” In this utterance lies not despair, but revelation. It speaks to the truth that the youth of every age are born into a world that moves more swiftly than their elders can comprehend. The rivers of change quicken their pace, and those who would guide must understand the waters before they may lead across. Owens does not merely lament the limitations of the classroom—he points to the vast, living reality of the world that is shaping the hearts and minds of children long before the chalk meets the blackboard.

In ages past, the world moved slowly. A child of the village learned by watching the craftsman, the farmer, the weaver, their days measured by the rising and setting of the sun. But now, says Owens, the tempo of life quickens. Machines hum, screens flicker, images fly swifter than arrows once loosed from bow. The child dwells in a storm of excitement, in which tales, sounds, and visions come endlessly. Against this, the solitary teacher, bound to words and chalk, appears to move like a tortoise chasing the falcon. Yet this is no curse—this is a call for teachers, parents, and elders to rise, to meet the pace of the world not with despair but with wisdom and adaptation.

Consider the story of Socrates and the youth of Athens. The philosopher lamented that the young were unruly, distracted, enamored with luxury and newness. He feared they would scorn tradition and ruin society. Yet it was not the youth who failed—it was the elders who did not know how to meet them where they stood. In time, the world shaped itself anew, as it always does. Just as Socrates wrestled with the new spirit of his age, so too must we wrestle with the spirit of our children’s age: a world of speed, spectacle, and restless energy. The truth of Owens’ words is eternal—the young will always live in a world quicker than the old can summon.

But mark this: though the world of children moves faster, their hunger remains the same. They crave meaning, guidance, the fire of understanding. The challenge is not to slow the world—it cannot be slowed. The challenge is to ignite wonder within them that burns brighter than the spectacles they consume. A teacher with stillness but no fire will lose them; but a teacher who knows how to weave ancient wisdom with living energy will capture their hearts. For even in the age of lightning, the flame of truth draws the soul.

Therefore, let not the elder despair. The lesson is this: one must adapt the teaching to the rhythm of the age. In the days of parchment, wisdom was shared in patient script. In the days of printing, wisdom was thundered forth in books and pamphlets. In our day, the teacher must harness stories, images, and movement, not as distraction but as vessels for timeless truths. Just as the Greeks carved their wisdom into marble and the monks illuminated manuscripts with gold, so too must our generation’s teachers illuminate knowledge with the tools that captivate the youth of today.

From Owens’ words, let us gather our charge: do not fight the speed of the world; instead, make wisdom swifter. Do not scorn the excitement of youth; instead, bind it to noble purpose. Parents, teachers, and mentors—seek to learn the language of the age, that you may lift young hearts higher than the fleeting thrill of machines. Tell stories that blaze brighter than the screen, pose questions deeper than the scroll, and show by your deeds that wisdom is not slow—it is eternal.

So I say to you, O seekers of truth: remember this eternal rhythm. The young will always inherit a world faster than their elders. Yet the true teacher does not compete with speed, nor with spectacle. The true teacher becomes a beacon—a steady fire amidst the storm—guiding the restless spirit toward meaning, virtue, and greatness. Thus let your teaching be alive, let it be fiery, let it be adapted to the pace of the day, but rooted in the timeless soil of wisdom. For only then will you stand not as a relic of the past, but as a living guide to the future.