In high school I took a bank of tests that were supposed to reveal my interests and aptitudes. The results would help me make some healthy and pertinent choices for my future. My classmates got back all sorts of options printed out using the new-fangled computer scoring systems. My form indicated only one choice. I was destined to be a lighthouse keeper.
I guess if I had followed computer Hal's advice, I would be out of a job right now. The British government has recently announced that their lighthouses will be fully automated by the end of 1998. The closing of the last manned light house will be the end of a 300-year tradition in that country. To commemorate the historical significance of the moment the Royal Mail has issued a set of stamps showing the lighthouses when they were in their glory days. The Canadian government isn't far behind in its plan to computerize all of our lighthouses. A few have pondered what will be lost when no humans are stationed near treacherous waters. Many a life has been saved by the quick response of the lighthouse keepers. We no longer feel it's important to have human voices on the phone when we call to ask for help so why should we worry about a cry not heard in the night, in the waves.
I suspect the job of lighthouse keeper attracted the loner. This type of personality has got a bad rep of late. In our rush to be called a team player we have grown suspicious of anyone who enjoys their own company. Loners have been placed in the same mold as hermits. This is unfortunate since the hermit seeks to distance himself from society. The loner values the contribution a society makes, as well as being aware of his own unique gifts.
Are there metaphorical lighthouse keepers in our community? Do we value the contribution of men and women who take a stand on their own? Are we encouraging a dialogue with these individuals, or are they being shunned because they shout out warnings that no one else can see? Do we feel personal reflection may lead to a call for action, regardless of the consequences? Or is that too dangerous? The lighthouse keeper must respond to these calls and sometimes risks all, in order to do what must be done.
I did not end up in a lighthouse. Something of what makes me unique must have been interpreted on the electronic score sheet to mean I could have been suited for that historic profession. I have often wondered how machine-generated questions sensed the romantic notions one conjures up when pondering the life of a Keeper of the Light. We are all responsible for a light of one sort or another, aren’t we? Those inner lights can never be automated.