I remember that my first argument did not end well. I was still at the parochial school when a girl called Pura, who we all knew was very rich, said something about my father. The strange thing is that I do not remember what she exactly said about my father but, for an instant I felt like a toro in the arena surrounded by the crowd, and I just charged. Pura ended up falling down against a sidewalk in the patio of the school and going to the infirmary. My mother was firm about my reaction and told me not to do that again. But in the corner of her eye I could see a faint smile.

My second argument was in the school that I was moved to because of my impertinent religious questions at the parochial school.

They were some workers fixing a problem in the school building. I said something about how important these workers were. One of my classmates, whose father later became the first socialist president of Chile, said that the architect who designed the building was more important than the workers. “No workers, no building” I said no matter how many houses an architect designs, without the builders, the masons, the guys that push the wheel barrel, the carpenters–no building.

So they had to separate us because we were becoming too loud in that little ladies’ school.

Communication in harmony, that was, (and is) a challenge for me. I was led to believe, I guess by my mother, that that was something that ran in the family. On my father’s side, of course.

When I was working, if somebody came with gossip such as “I heard so-and-so saying such-and-such about you.” I would save what I was working on on my computer, get up from my desk, tell the gossiper to wait, go for the so-and-so and ask them both to repeat what they had said about each other and me. It only happened two times. Then no one dared to come with gossip to my office.

It was also very hard for me to work with a group of people. I was used to communicating what I expected from others–the same that I demanded from myself: perfection. I ended up asking my supervisors on any job not to make me a project manager because I could not work with people who would not to do their best. When interviewed for a job and I was asked what is your worse weakness I said: demanding perfection. And when I was asked what is your best strength I said: demanding perfection.

Unfortunately, my experience no matter where I have worked, with very few exceptions, was that very few people do what they like and therefore do not put any enthusiasm or commitment into what they do. I have liked every single job I have done except teaching young kids. Fortunately, this lasted only briefly–the time required to finish the practice to obtain my Ph.D. It was only about three months.

I think that since communication was difficult for me, I ended up selecting journalism as my first profession. I fell in love with doing research and informing the public about my findings. But journalism needs mass communication and involves trying to reach as many people as possible using diverse media. Today, with the evolution of technology, journalism has lost its glamour. Everybody can use social media and “inform” others of what they believe or do at every minute of their lives. “I drank coffee this morning!” Wow, how unusual and informative.

However, the most difficult thing to do for every human being is not how to communicate with others but to forgive and forget the past.

We are totally convinced that the family, the time, we were born in, determines who we are.

That, I have learned, is a lie.