The heavy weight of conscience

In the film “Eteros Ego” (The Other Me) by Sotiris Tsafoulias, Dimitris Katalifos plays the rector of a university. In a dialogue with Pygmalion Dadakaridis, who plays a professor of criminology, Katalifos points out: “Dimitris, I don’t have children, you know that. I have always thought of you as a son, rather than as anything else. At the end of the day, when all is silent, we and our conscience remain. And conscience is a heavy thing. The more of it one has, the more weight one carries in one’s stomach and shoulders. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

I came home extremely tired, with a headache, starving but not hungry. The time was past two in the afternoon. I had been out since morning looking for solutions to various issues facing the university. I often feel like I’m working at the circus. Sitting on a bicycle with one wheel, balancing on a rope. In my hands are three pins of fire. I turn them carefully around and around. Under the rope walk lazily three crocodiles. This feels like my daily life outside the classroom. Inside the classroom is my oasis. The only place where I can and do bask in the honest innocence of our young children, our students.

I put in a lot of effort to eat, without being particularly hungry. I was just starting to feel a tightness in my stomach and I mistakenly assumed it was a warning of hunger. Turns out it wasn’t. It was just what Katalifos said.

The problem I’m having, then, is exactly what Katalifos pointed out. That my conscience is weighing on my stomach and shoulders. Because, while I could just “do my job,” justifying my salary and satisfactorily meeting the job description, I (unfortunately for my stomach and shoulders) really do care about the place where I come from, the university, the students and this damn country. And for all these (crazy) reasons I strive for the university in Amfissa to succeed, to establish itself, to increase its students, to engage with society, to contribute as much as it can and of course to evolve. But I also strive for a number of other things, which I consider basic, essential and self-evident (yes, I know I have written an article about the self-evident that doesn’t exist!).

And for this purpose, which I consider sacred, I invest my time, my mind, my energy, my dedication, my knowledge. I invest whatever resources I have. Because that is what my conscience dictates. And in return I simply expect to see my efforts pay off. That will be a valuable return for me. As well as the success and happiness of my students.

When I lived abroad, from 2004 to 2019, I heard that nothing works in Greece, but I couldn’t believe it. However, when you experience something, you don’t have to believe it. Belief is about the existence of things that are not proven. Nothing really works. And very few people care. Very few people really do. And those few are not usually in key positions. Nor are they members of government, nor are they members of parliament. The decay of society, its deep rot, has been orchestrated and coordinated for a long time. And of course, as the popular saying goes, “The fish stinks from the head.” And indeed…

‘It’s a heavy thing. The more of it one has, the more weight one carries in one’s stomach and shoulders’

With all that is going on around us and also with a heightened consciousness, I’ve been getting desperate lately. I never thought I would feel it, but I really don’t know what to do to get my strength back. Meanwhile, many readers write to me that they get strength from me, so I realize that I can’t afford to despair, because maybe I can strengthen them a little.

Head of Department. Position. Power. One imagines. And because I don’t have time to explain, because the loose ends are eating away at me like a carrion bird, I think: “Let them imagine. I can’t explain now.”

A regional university department located far from the central campus faces different kinds and degrees of difficulty than the central campus, especially when it is alone. I’m not claiming that it’s easy to be the head in a central/main campus department, I’m just saying that it’s very different. I’ve done it anyway and I know. However, when working at a regional campus you are consumed by the day-to-day, practical issues, many of which are otherwise solved by central administration and administrative services rather than by faculty members (i.e. professors).

You could of course say, “That’s not my responsibility,” and no one would blame you. Or you could just say: “Whatever. Nobody cares anyway,” and you’d still be off the hook. But when you operate with elevated levels of consciousness in your blood, and you also suffer from huge deficits of ego, personal ambition, love of money and material things, and the need for self-promotion, then how do you manage to weigh and balance the prioritization of needs and the initiatives that accompany them?

As I was writing this article, I was just about to run with joy, honor and pride to represent the Municipality of Delphi in the Olympic Flame relay. I feel a great debt to my country and my ancestors. And at the same time, I feel unworthy of being their successor. This is because I feel too small to make any difference, for the better. I have decided, however, to carry on.

Marina-Selini Katsaiti is an associate professor and chair at the Agricultural University of Athens’ Department of Regional and Economic Development.