I think my parents were happy that I'd gone to university and

Derek Jacobi, master of stage and screen, once reflected with humility and gratitude: “I think my parents were happy that I’d gone to university and gotten a degree in history so they thought, ‘Well if acting doesn’t work for him, he can always become a history teacher or something.’ Fortunately, the acting worked out.” These words, spoken lightly, carry within them the deep struggle of choice, of uncertainty, and of the hopes that families hold for their children. They remind us that life often balances between the safe path of stability and the daring leap toward passion.

The origin of this quote rests in Jacobi’s own journey. Born into an ordinary family, he pursued studies in history at Cambridge, an honorable course, one that promised respect and security. Yet within him burned another fire — the call of the stage, the longing to give life to Shakespeare’s kings and commoners alike. His parents, like so many guardians of the young, hoped for both his safety and his success. They saw the degree as a safeguard, a shield against failure, a foundation should dreams falter. Yet fortune and talent aligned, and his art carried him not into classrooms of history but onto stages where he himself became history.

This tension between passion and practicality is ancient. Consider Cicero, whose father hoped he would remain a scholar and lawyer, a man of letters, safe and respected. Yet Cicero entered the tempest of politics, where his eloquence thundered in the Senate, shaping the fate of Rome. Or think of Vincent van Gogh, who was urged to remain in the stability of clerical work, but instead gave his life to painting. Though he knew poverty and despair, his canvases now illuminate the world. In both men, as in Jacobi, we see the eternal struggle: the safe path of duty, or the perilous path of calling.

Yet Jacobi’s reflection holds not only a lesson about daring, but also about gratitude. He does not scorn the path of the teacher. Indeed, he speaks of it with respect, for it was a noble alternative that his family imagined for him. To be a history teacher is to shape young minds, to preserve the stories of the past, to guard the memory of nations. His words remind us that there is no shame in such a life, for greatness lies not only on the stage or in fame, but also in the quiet work of those who pass wisdom to the next generation.

The lesson, then, is clear: honor both the dreams and the foundations. Pursue your passion boldly, but do not despise the safeguards that wisdom and family counsel provide. A safety net need not be an enemy of ambition; rather, it may give the courage to leap. Jacobi leapt toward art, but his grounding in history enriched his craft, giving depth to his performances and rooting his imagination in the soil of human experience. Thus, even the “backup plan” became part of his triumph.

What, then, shall we practice? Parents, guide your children with both encouragement and prudence. Support their passions, yet help them build foundations. Children, honor the counsel of your elders, yet do not silence the fire of your own calling. Seek balance, where dreams are pursued with courage, but not with recklessness. For the life well-lived is not one that clings to safety nor one that despises it, but one that weds passion with preparation.

Therefore, O seekers of destiny, remember Derek Jacobi’s words. The path of acting, or of art, or of any daring pursuit, may seem uncertain, but the grounding of education, the respect for tradition, and the honor of humble alternatives all strengthen the soul. If your dream succeeds, you will be grateful for the foundation. If it falters, you will still walk a noble road. Either way, you will live not in fear, but in wisdom, and perhaps one day you too may say with gladness: “Fortunately, it worked out.”