I always loved learning stuff. Ok, with the exception of a couple of complicated maths and physics classes I had to go through in college, back when I aimed to become an eye doctor. (I don’t remember where in time, I figured ophtamology was a cool thing, and why…)
I didn’t become an eye doctor (obviously)… Not even close to it. Life got in the way at some point, and even though some friends told me straight forward I’d regret leaving long years in University to pursue something else, I don’t, so far.
But let’s back up a little. I really was one of these kids who love school. I must admit, I had an easiness at learning. I was a knowledge sponge, so studying never was so much a struggle.
The school we went to, in Kamsar, was tiny. Probably like country side school back in the days… Many classes sharing a room, and only a couple of students per grade. It was pretty special, and for someone like me, it was ideal. Having so much attention from every teacher, was incredible.
When I started my last year of schooling there, I was alone in my grade. The families came and went away, as the parents’ contracts ended.
So that year I was alone, and since I was in highschool, I had five private teachers! Needless to say I was delighted.
The principal, who was also my French, history and geography teacher, suggested that I’d try to complete two grades in one year, since I would learn at my own pace. I was excited at the idea, and my parents agreed.
Mr Principal decided that, for some reason, I needed a “tutor”. And since he didn’t spend enough time with me already… He decided to take the task.
Now, although there were no more than fifty kids, from kindergarden to the equivalent of secondary fourth and fifth (aka Me!), the school was divided in two sections. The French one, which I was part of, and the American one, for English speakers.
Skye, one of the English section principal’s sons, was the only guy my age. We became friends a little by necessity. But it didn’t take long before we profoundly bonded, and started sharing a true and incredible friendship.
We started hanging around together all the time. We enjoyed talking for hours, and playing Monopoly… We went to the beach together, and helped each other learning him French, and me, English.
The problem was that although we kids all got along together, there were conflicts between the two sections’ teachers and principals. Ridiculous, right?
At one point, the principal who seemed to consider me his personal little project, started making comments about my friendship. He clearly disapproved, but I didn’t pay much attention, the first couple of times.
When he told me that he had seen us at the marina, and that that time should have been spent studying… I was startled! He added that Skye’s bad influence on me was making me deviate from my goals to complete two grades at once.
I came home crying, and told Mom and Dad, who decided to have a meeting with my zealous “tutor”.
People would probably describe Dad as a smart, nice, funny, easy going fellow. But he has a huge moustache (he actually looks a lot like Jamie Hyneman, if you are a MythBusters’ fan) and when he gets angry, which is really rare, he looks like one of those mean badass biker guys!
I wasn’t told everything that was said during the meeting, but I know it was quite ugly. At one point, the principal told my Mom that it was fine if my parents didn’t appreciate his concern, and that he’d be the first one to laugh, when I’d start failing my exams…
I mean… Who wouldn’t want such a dedicated “tutor”, right? LOL
Mom probably hesitated before telling me about that last part, but she so wanted to be the one laughing, that she and Dad told me they absolutely approved my friendship with Skye, and that they wanted me to work extra hard, just to prove that having a friend wouldn’t be a bad influence on my grades.
I was pumped!
I didn’t really need studying, as knowledge just seemed to stick to my brain. As long as I understood the subject, I didn’t need to go over it time and time again. But I started working every night.
For the next geography exam I had to go through (remember, it was one of the subjects my “tutor” was teaching me) I was so well prepared that I absolutely nailed it! And I had put so much work and details in my answers, that Mr Know-it-all had to recognize he was wrong…
That afternoon, you can imagine my excitement, when I brought my marked exam to Mom and Dad.
Bam! Who’s laughing now??
Via today’s Word of the Day Challenge; Deviate