I want to be a science teacher. My friends asked me why, but I'm

In the words of Keisha Castle-Hughes, we hear the voice of one who stands at the threshold of purpose, declaring: “I want to be a science teacher.” It is not a proclamation of grandeur, nor a boast of wealth, but a quiet, radiant truth born of curiosity and ability. Her friends may ask why, for the world often measures greatness in fame, in riches, or in feats of power. But she answers with the wisdom of the heart: because she is intrigued, because she is good at science, and because from such inclinations a noble calling may grow.

The origin of this truth lies in the eternal relationship between passion and service. To be a teacher is not merely to repeat what one knows, but to ignite in others the same fire that burns within. The ancients honored the philosopher, the sage, the scholar, not because they hoarded knowledge, but because they became vessels through which truth flowed into the next generation. Castle-Hughes reminds us that one’s talent is not for self alone; it is a gift to be offered back to the world through the shaping of young minds.

History shines with examples of those who chose such a path. Consider Marie Curie, whose mastery of science led her to discoveries that changed the world. She might have withdrawn into secrecy or profit, but she instead devoted her life to the pursuit of knowledge and to teaching others to see the hidden forces of nature. Or recall Hypatia of Alexandria, a woman of ancient wisdom, who taught mathematics and astronomy to students who traveled from distant lands to sit at her feet. Though the world around her was turbulent, she passed on the clarity of truth. Like Keisha’s vision, their lives show that the impulse to teach is an impulse to give, to multiply wisdom beyond oneself.

There is also within this quote a gentle defiance. Friends questioned her, asking why she would choose such a path. This is the trial that every dreamer must face: the doubts of others. Yet the seeker must hold steady, for the worth of a calling is not measured by the approval of the crowd, but by the alignment of the soul with its true labor. To wish to be a science teacher is to step into a lineage of builders of minds, a legacy that shapes the destiny of civilizations.

The deeper meaning speaks of identity and direction. When one is young and still forming, the discovery of what draws your heart—whether art, science, music, or service—is the seed of a greater harvest. Keisha’s attraction to science, her skill in it, and her desire to teach it, form a triad of purpose: passion, ability, and service. When these three converge, the ancients would say, one has found their “appointed way.”

From this, let the lesson be clear: follow the threads of your curiosity, for they are often the whispers of destiny. Do not be swayed by those who ask “why?” when your heart knows the answer. And if you have been given skill in a field, do not bury it; share it, for knowledge is a river meant to flow, not a cistern meant to stagnate. In teaching, you not only pass on facts, but you awaken wonder, and wonder is the first step toward wisdom.

Practically, this means to nurture the skills you are good at, to embrace the subjects that intrigue you, and to seek paths where those gifts may serve others. If you feel the call to teach, pursue it with honor, knowing that in shaping one mind, you may be shaping a thousand futures. If you feel the call to study, study deeply, but remember always that wisdom grows brightest when shared.

Thus, in Castle-Hughes’ simple declaration lies a timeless truth: the noblest ambition is not always to shine alone, but to kindle many lights. To be a science teacher is not a small dream, but a mighty one—for through such a life, the mysteries of the universe may enter the hearts of children, and from their hands may emerge the discoveries that will guide the generations yet to come.