I just write. No. Tired. Tired? Calla, Antton! Don’t get me confused, I and myself are enough, now, for you to have more doubts. That's why? Can't it? Yes. Perhaps with difficulty and tiredness. Is it hard to write because I'm tired or tired?

Difficult or tired, the consequence is the same. How do you write and what do I mean? To whom is it addressed? Ah! And what for? The objective, not forgetting the purpose, which cannot be achieved without it. On the basis of a situation, we must address what the goal requires. It is not just the path of the CC, Coherence and Cohesion. You, young boys and girls, 16-year-old boys and girls, are asked to understand the world. If the goal is to achieve coherence in this non-cohesive life, you have it, I have it, we have it. Who knows, I work tired, alone, to end up tired.

I have only to apologise. Forgive me my dear student. YOU CAN ME NOW! It wasn't an order, I didn't want to send, my intention was to drive. However, “do this and then the other”, sending, saying, making myself available. If you don't, it's easy to tinker. The rebuke, to overcome the limit that marks that ‘D’. How should you do it when I don't know?

I've been lost, neither driver nor command, glad I've been a professor. Laughter yes, well and at ease throughout the year, even if there's no crying when I give the note, silence is the reason. In that painful moment too, the border has separated us. I as a teacher and you as a student. I knew, all wise, I knew you didn't have to overcome, but I wanted to be there, just to help. Too late. I know the help had to be faster, but I didn't know its limits. I too have to take care of the correction. Knowing? It's not the most appropriate use of the verb. Perceiving? Differentiating? I don't know.

I have been, I am, and I am sure I am, immersed in the dichotomy between being a student and being a professor. Because I'm a teacher who's learning to teach. Being hesitant and aided, the help of colleagues is essential, but perhaps not enough. They have helped me to the limits, to the limits and not to my limits. In that abyss, I am the culprit, neither the student, nor my peers, I. An imperfect seam, waiting for the stain to open, afraid to note my ignorance.

The teaching-learning process relies on the idea that time limits this lack of knowledge. So far, no, so far. You said that more can be done. Bad. You can do, however, lack wealth: "They say you can do more." That's what you think, you mean. No, I've left it all over. Right? I have to say "yes," every teacher has to be wise, they won't recognize me if they don't. Just in case. Right? "YES," maybe "yes," without much certainty, though, I'm sure "NO!" The desire to say, no, the desire is no more, I need it. That's it. I don't know if I say anything and I do.

I've known my limitations. Unfortunately, for you too late for nothing good. I have no more to take on the role of the student. I have to learn, better said, to keep learning. I've learned a lot from you, and that, you don't know, I don't know if you know it, but thank you very much! How to teach and what to teach, what yes, maybe, how not, not very well. I will therefore return to that ignorance of my colleagues. However, I will always have a fear that I have inside and there you have neither the guilt nor the pity nor the solution. Overcoming is not up to me, it's up to you. I am obliged to say so, but according to the examiner his work will be deemed to have been exceeded in 13, 14 or even. What limits this decision? Is it enough to write “tired” to not overcome it? How many times? Where are the limits? I don't know. Borders are diffuse and in that blur my fears are overthrown today, tomorrow and the past.

Iñaki Moriones Madariaga