When we become a really mature, grown-up, wise society, we will

Hear the voice of Charles Kuralt, who spoke not as a mere reporter of the day but as a prophet of what must be. He declared: “When we become a really mature, grown-up, wise society, we will put teachers at the center of the community, where they belong. We don’t honor them enough, we don’t pay them enough.” These words ring with both lament and vision. They remind us that the true strength of a people does not rest in armies nor in treasuries, but in the wisdom planted by those who guide the young. A society that neglects its teachers is like a farmer who forgets to water the roots yet wonders why the tree bears no fruit.

The meaning is clear: to be mature is not merely to build towers, forge wealth, or conquer distant lands. To be truly wise is to revere those who sow the seeds of learning, those who awaken the mind and nurture the soul. Kuralt’s words strike at the heart of a paradox—though teachers shape every doctor, every judge, every leader, they are too often left in shadows, underpaid, undervalued, unseen. This is not the mark of a grown civilization, but of one still in its adolescence.

History has shown us the power of honoring the teacher. Recall Socrates, who walked the streets of Athens, asking questions that pierced like arrows. He had no throne, no riches, yet his teachings shaped Plato, and through Plato, Aristotle, and through them the very foundation of Western thought. Though condemned by his city, Socrates stands immortal, while those who judged him are dust. His life testifies that the strength of a community is measured not by its walls, but by the teachers who stir its minds to wisdom.

Or think of the ancient East, where Confucius traveled from state to state, teaching humility, respect, and order. Though rejected in his own time, his wisdom became the backbone of Chinese society for centuries. Rulers rose and fell, dynasties came and went, but the teacher endured, shaping the character of a civilization. This is Kuralt’s vision: that a people only reach their full greatness when they build their community around those who pass on truth.

The tragedy of our age is that too often, teachers are left weary, burdened, their work taken for granted. Yet every surgeon was once a child in a classroom, every statesman once sat at a desk, every artist once held a pencil guided by another’s hand. To forget this is to forget the origin of all human progress. To neglect the teacher is to neglect the very flame that lights the way forward.

O children of tomorrow, hear this call: if you would build a society that endures, then lift the teacher to honor. Pay them with fairness, not with scraps. Give them not only wages, but respect, gratitude, and the central place in the life of the community. For if you wish to heal a nation, strengthen first the hands that hold the chalk, the voices that guide the young, the spirits that nurture wisdom.

Therefore, take this lesson to heart: the mark of a truly mature society is not in its monuments nor in its wealth, but in how it treats its teachers. Begin today with gratitude—thank those who guided you, support those who guide others, and speak loudly for their worth. Build schools as sanctuaries, not as afterthoughts. For if we honor the teacher, we honor the future itself.

Thus Kuralt’s words endure as both rebuke and prophecy: “When we become a really mature, grown-up, wise society, we will put teachers at the center of the community, where they belong.” Let this be your charge: honor the teacher, and you will build a civilization not only clever, but wise; not only wealthy, but enduring; not only great, but good.