Education, Part I

I recently posted regarding the great speech about education by Ken Robinson and said I would discuss the actual topic later. I have had a few people comment on liking the speech very much, and a friend of mine who saw him present in Australia said he is quite remarkable in person.

However, I deferred discussing the topic until later. Well, it is later.

Education is something I spend a lot of time thinking about, wondering about and scruple over discussing. Like everyone, education is in my past. In my present, I have friends, family and a spouse who work in the field and one who reports on it. I even have the occasional education project in my own career. Last year, I went to the UK a couple of times to do work for The British Council. And then there is Sam's education to be concerned about. And my distant future may (hopefully) hold some sort of teaching career. Therefore, I think about education ... and like everything I am constantly changing my mind about how it works best.

Where does this all start for me?

Many of the people who actually come to this blog know about my "10th grade, liked it so much I tried it twice" experience. However, I'll record it for the benefit of later reflection.

The first time I took 10th grade, I failed it ... and it was quite simply the absolute worst feeling of my life. Yes, worse than the days in an Arkansas hospital bed with a full-body spider-induced rash ... worse than the doctor ripping my charred skin from off my coal-burnt foot ... even worse than sleeping pillowless on the floor, going through the divorce of my first marriage, wondering about my unborn child's future, my grad school thesis and the horrible tooth pain from my cracked tooth (obviously, it was hard to feel that bad when I knew Adelyn was just around the corner.)

So, yes ... failing was bad. The world as I knew it collapsed.

I spent my 10th grade year attending almost all classes, getting in no disciplinary trouble, reading books aplenty, scoring high on tests and class participation, getting along with teachers, playing JV basketball ... not doing a lick of homework and avoiding any questions directed to me about the subject. I don't think I wrote a single paper that year, and I had already failed 9th grade English the year previous.

Now, I went to a school where the graduating class numbered in the 30s. You can't just fade in the background. It is also hardcore college prep, so expectations are high. Failing was not an easy thing to do. It involved INTENSE procrastination and shirking of responsibilities. Oh and acting ... I was a good actor, so I played as if all were good.

Then it happened. While I was marlin fishing off the coast of Cozumel with my dad and brother, my school was issuing a failing report card for me. I decided to lose myself in Xanth those days.

However, eventually, I had to face up to the realities. I had to recognize that things had to change. I am part of the "you can be whatever you want to be" generation ... for the first time in my life, I thought that was wrong; I was not going to be whatever I wanted to be (which is probably best).

Sure, I was "lazy," but I also had to wake-up to the reality that I had strengths and weaknesses in my skills and abilities. (I was quite awful with numchucks, no Ninja here).

I do appreciate the help of many friends and family in the whole ordeal, but this is about education ... so now isn't the time to recognize you guys, sorry. I was fortunate to have a couple teachers in the school who could relate to me and my situation (and a really lax principal who actually asked me back) . One was Dr. White who had his own personal experiences with poor academics and the other was Ms. Tate who taught me how to pick myself up. These two people, more than anyone, helped me recognize my learning strengths and weakness ... what was within the realm of my possibilities for accomplishments. They worked endlessly on helping me discover my paths. Without the two of them, I really don't know where I'd be.

So first, I had to do an extensive summer school program to make up for 9th grade English. Second 10th grade year, I concentrated on the shame (remember this is a tiny school; 6th graders knew seniors, etc.) and making no D's or F's. Junior Year, no C's allowed either. Senior Year, A average and graduating with honors. Freshman year in college 4.0 and being known as "a total academic geek who does too much homework." Then, I chilled out a bit ... I had "made" it.

I was still the same person. I still had the same classroom personality (except for actually beaming when it was time to turn back papers, rather than managing to sharpen my pencil or find a renegade game of four square). I just learned things differently now; I accomplished things differently; I found my individual style. 99.9997% of kids don't get the opportunity I was afforded ... and each one of them should.

Ok, this is already longer than even I want to read (and I will re-read, because revising can be fun! Shout out to Bieber! Trust me, that is a highly relevant inside joke). However, I'll write again on the subject (see, this is just Part I). But the next postings will be about the earthquakes and back to nature with our trip to Sculptured Beach today.