Temporary Temporality

To my professor from the past;

Hello. You may be wondering what I’m doing here, or even who I am. I know I look familiar, I look a lot like your student, but older somehow. I’m not her mother. We share the same genetic code, the same memories, up to a point. You see, my memories include a good fifteen years that she hasn’t experienced yet. I’m from the future.

Scientists are working on developing time travel right now. They will be successful, and far sooner than anyone expects. And they will be far less responsible than they should. That quintessentially human hubris will bring about new discoveries. The nature of time, for example, is rather fixed, but only the general flow of it. The more minute details of its passage, like which individual human fulfills which task, are far more forgiving than humanity is comfortable with. It speaks to our insecurities, our own individual insignificance. We could be anyone. That thing we do, that idiosyncrasy our lover is so fond of? Doesn’t matter. None of it matters. What does matter is that time marches on; it doesn’t care which pebbles it scuffs off the road.

The upside of this is that it allows for a good deal of flexibility in how we, as individual humans, experience our newfound ability to interact with the passage of time. We can communicate with people we never thought we’d see again with very little fear of the consequences. That is why I’m here- I never wanted to see you again. I hated you. You symbolized everything that went wrong in my 23^rd year of life. I blamed you for my failures in this academic arena for a long time after I ran from it with my tail between my legs (that’s another thing about the future, we all grow tails).

But I did eventually move on. I continued to avoid your field, but I found myself learning all the lessons that you’d tried to teach me anyhow, in different realms of life. I found myself teaching them to other people, for an idea is more infectious than hatred. I was forced to admit to myself that maybe you actually had something worth saying, underneath all that hot air. The embers of my hatred subsided enough for me to approach the wreckage left behind and realize that maybe I wasn’t quite so damaged as I’d thought I was. I picked up the pieces, and rebuilt a self that was stronger and more resilient. You taught me that change must only be painful if I refuse to let go of the past, but I had to learn it the hard way. I want to thank you, but then I’d just be feeding your monstrous ego.

I don’t know what lessons you’ll learn, or how you’ll grow differently in your future (my past) as a result of this conversation. I’m simply exercising my privilege, as a citizen of the future, to mess with your mind.

-Your present student’s future self