I tried to stir the imagination and enthusiasms of students to

Hear the stirring words of James Broughton, poet, filmmaker, and teacher of the human spirit: “I tried to stir the imagination and enthusiasms of students to take risks, to do what they were most afraid of doing, to widen their horizons of action.” In this saying, he reveals the sacred duty of the true guide: not merely to instruct in rules or repeat what is known, but to ignite within others the courage to go beyond the safe, beyond the expected, beyond the walls of fear. For the highest form of teaching is not to hand out answers, but to awaken daring.

The meaning is clear: to live only within safety is to live half a life. To remain always within the lines drawn by fear is to bury one’s gifts. The teacher who is wise will not only give knowledge but will awaken the imagination—that soaring power that sees beyond limits. And he will stir enthusiasm, that fire of the heart which gives strength to attempt what seems impossible. Broughton’s words remind us that greatness is born not in repeating what we already know we can do, but in stepping into the realm of what we believe we cannot.

Consider the tale of Christopher Columbus, who, despite ridicule and doubt, set sail westward across an ocean feared and unknown. His teachers had not only filled his head with charts but his heart with daring. He risked scorn, hunger, and death upon the waters, yet in doing so he widened not only his own horizon, but that of all mankind. Though his legacy is tangled with both discovery and destruction, his story shows the eternal truth: it is only those who take risks that change the shape of the world.

History also gives us the example of Rosa Parks, who in her quiet defiance on a Montgomery bus did what she was most afraid of doing. In that single act, her courage became a lesson to millions, showing that even the smallest voice, when raised against fear, can widen the horizon of justice for generations. She was not taught merely to obey the ordinary, but to believe in something greater. And in her risk, a movement was stirred.

From these examples we see that fear is not an enemy to be destroyed but a threshold to be crossed. Broughton knew this: that the role of the teacher is to urge the student not to avoid fear, but to face it, to step into it, to allow it to be the crucible of transformation. To remain within fear is to remain small; to pass through fear is to be reborn larger, braver, freer.

O children of tomorrow, let this be your lesson: seek not always the safe path. Stir your own imagination, let it lead you to places you have not dared to go. Let enthusiasm be your companion, for it will give you the courage to try what your trembling heart resists. Do what you are most afraid of doing—not recklessly, but bravely—and in so doing, you will discover who you truly are.

Therefore, let your daily practice be this: whenever you meet fear, ask, “What horizon lies beyond this?” Then step forward, however small the step may be. Write the words you fear to write. Speak the truth you fear to speak. Begin the journey you fear to begin. For only in such risks will your spirit grow. The horizon will not widen itself—you must walk to it, and beyond.

Thus the words of James Broughton endure: “I tried to stir the imagination and enthusiasms of students to take risks, to do what they were most afraid of doing, to widen their horizons of action.” Let them be a call to you, that you, too, may rise above fear, kindle your imagination, and live not within narrow walls but beneath the endless sky.