Encouraging Reports

I’ve recently rediscovered my (very) old high school reports, and had a good old read through the comments made by the teachers in all of the subjects I took at school.

Most of them started out describing me as a quiet and bright, charming boy, with a willingness to learn and great attention to detail.

I was enthusiastic in class, and took part very well in group discussions and class projects, gushed the comments.

I looked at the subjects and remembered fondly the teachers who wrote such wise words about me. Like I said, most of the comments were like this to start off with.

It was 1979. I was eleven. I was in the big school. I had an excitement to learn, and looked forward to finding out about history. I wanted to express myself artistically; discover what electricity was; dissect a stem of a plant and be able to label all of the ‘parts’ clearly; learn complex mathematical equations; write essays and tales of world-shattering proportions; create wonderful pieces of music on the piano; speak a foreign language fluently; learn how to write something meaningful in a computer language known as ‘basic’; act like the greatest actors of the time / of all time; discover more about landmasses and layers of rock; become a successful sportsman. I really was interested in everything. I loved to learn.

I still do today, but learning today is nothing like it was back in those few years of high school. I loved the learning, maybe just not the whole schooling experience.

The sports teacher put me completely off the subject of sport from the very first sentence in his review of me. ‘Thomas,’ he said, ‘just does not have the co-ordination to become an exceptional sportsman’. Some are meant to be great athletes, some aren’t. It was no big deal to me. In the final report, year five, the sports teacher wrote ‘Thomas has all but given up with this subject’. It was amazing that it took five years for this teacher to come to that conclusion. Perhaps if he had taken time to help me to improve my coordination, or pushed me in the sports I was good at rather than writing me off completely in his first report things may have been different. And, yes, I know that part of the education process was down to me, but words sometimes do matter. Especially when you are young and impressionable.

Confidence knocked slightly by this horrific slur on my character, I put more of my focus into the subjects I enjoyed.

Maths. Loved it. Sums and numbers, equations, squares and triangles. Fabulous. Until the smelly kid was sat next to me.

Eventually, I asked to be moved, and I was. Directly in front of the teacher’s desk. No explanation to the group, nor to the smelly kid. The attention that move created for me cost more to my learning of the subject than sitting next to the kid ever would have. But hey – it was the right move, yes?

Technical Drawing. I loved creating designs using rulers and protractors and sharp pencils. I loved it so much, the teachers put me through the same class twice. Exactly the same lessons, same drawings, even the same teacher. But we had to pretend it was the first time… so I did. I also pretended I was rubbish at it the second time around…

Music. I longed to be able to play the piano… instead I was given two blocks of wood to knock together to keep time. Tuneless, polished blocks of wood. I instantly knew my day on the piano would never come.

Most of the subjects, however, were enjoyable. I loved English Language and English Literature, although at the time I didn’t know what the difference was… I just knew that we did a lot of reading in the literature lessons. Animal Farm by George Orwell is a story that I loved reading in that class… I used to love talking animals, although I don’t think this was the reason we read that book.

Art. I loved it. I’d love to use colour, bold and vivid strokes, dyed feathers, anything that would make the image leap from the page. My art teacher was very encouraging, and no mention of my coordination was made in this subject. The French teacher learned of my artistic side, and she asked me to create some cartoon images for the class to use, to say aloud what was going on in the cartoon. The Pottery teacher asked me to create some paintings of Noah’s Ark to put up on the wall, to inspire other classes to build little statues and mini arks and other pottery things.

Me.

Being asked to do something inspiring.

I never even did pottery.

I may have been pleased the day that I left school. I don’t remember the last day it was so unimportant to me, I just wanted to get out of there.

I wonder if I’d have felt the same if I’d been encouraged throughout my educational years in all of my classes? If I hadn’t been written off so early in my sporting career, I could have become an Olympic champion a few years later. I could be one now. Or a top-rate musician. Or doing the numbers round on Countdown.

If that was the case, however, this blog would never have been started. I’d have been far too busy to waffle on about has beens and could have beens; to describe soaring through the stars and planets, visiting alternative dimensions and watery domains; to write about the exploits of imaginary characters; or to post about real people and creatures of yesteryear. I’d have been stuck in the real world and none of this would have existed.

If I could, I would say that finding what you like is the best part of the education process. Learning about it becomes easy, and every fact is fascinating. And then doing what you like, being able to do it in spite of being written off, is the icing on the cake.

Be inspired to do it.

Don’t let anybody put you off going for your dream.

Mind you, I did come last in the 800 metres race, so maybe not becoming a sportsman was a good thing in my case… however, I could have tried harder…