I was never a big fan of school. Well, it wasn't really
school I didn't like it was the work that came with it. I always seemed to
take twice as long to do something. As a result, I had more
homework than anyone.
Once I got home I was flooded with choices. Watching Ultraman, playing with friends and staring at the wall, all seemed infinitely more fun than homework. As long as I could keep Mom in the dark, homework didn't happen. And I worked hard to keep her in the dark.
So my life was spent avoiding my work, lying to my mom and being consumed with dread on my walk to school each morning, without my work. They were long, self-deprecating walks.
I look back at that little boy and wonder if that’s where a lot of my insecurities come from. Day after day, knowing what I should do, but not being able to pull it together.
I feel sorry for that boy. It’s true he should have been responsible enough to sit and do the assignments. It’s also true he was in an educational system that didn't fit his wiring. A daydreaming storyteller who can’t write neatly, spell properly or memorize his multiplication tables isn't going to have a lot of wins.
My poor mom tried everything, testing, tutors, tears and threats. But the reality is, it’s always going to be hard for an oral learner to sit still to read and write hours of homework each evening. And in a system where form was as important as content, I was doomed.
The thing that saved me was a family who loved me and told me of a God who loved me too. So when everything in the classroom told me I was stupid and didn't measure up, I knew I would never be rejected... even when I didn't do my homework.
Once I got home I was flooded with choices. Watching Ultraman, playing with friends and staring at the wall, all seemed infinitely more fun than homework. As long as I could keep Mom in the dark, homework didn't happen. And I worked hard to keep her in the dark.
So my life was spent avoiding my work, lying to my mom and being consumed with dread on my walk to school each morning, without my work. They were long, self-deprecating walks.
I look back at that little boy and wonder if that’s where a lot of my insecurities come from. Day after day, knowing what I should do, but not being able to pull it together.
I feel sorry for that boy. It’s true he should have been responsible enough to sit and do the assignments. It’s also true he was in an educational system that didn't fit his wiring. A daydreaming storyteller who can’t write neatly, spell properly or memorize his multiplication tables isn't going to have a lot of wins.
My poor mom tried everything, testing, tutors, tears and threats. But the reality is, it’s always going to be hard for an oral learner to sit still to read and write hours of homework each evening. And in a system where form was as important as content, I was doomed.
The thing that saved me was a family who loved me and told me of a God who loved me too. So when everything in the classroom told me I was stupid and didn't measure up, I knew I would never be rejected... even when I didn't do my homework.
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