A lesson in wrong and right
When I was a young girl, I was the outcast because I was smarter than others, and because I had glasses. Third grade was an interesting point in my life as I had tested into the 99th percentile in the State. I discovered a new found sense of pride when I learned I was smarter than my 3rd grade teacher, a kind, gentile Mr. Richardson. Red hair, one arm, and one hell of a musician, I discovered much later in life (at the age of 15 when I was dating his son) that Mr. Richardson was a fascinating man - even if I was smarter than him when I was 8 years old, and a lowly third-grader.
Mr. Richardson did not think I was cute, or kind, or informative when I was telling him he was wrong in front of the Andover Central School 3rd grade class. He loathed that inevitable moment when I would shake my little blonde head and say "Nah-uh! Mister Richardson!" He hated it so much, he even called my parents in for a meeting to address the issue.
"Well, Mr & Mrs Gray, Elizabeth has been disrupting the class."
Mom leaned foward, "What did she do?"
"Well, you see, I was talking about camels with the classs, and explaining the purpose of their humps."
"Right," said mom, "And how they don't store water, right?"
Mr. Richardson sighed, "Actually, I didn't know that."
"You thought they stored water in their humps?"
"Yes."
"And you said that?"
"Yes."
"She told you how wrong you were, didn't she?"
"Yes." said Mr. Richardson almost under his breath. "And not only when I said they store water did she say I was wrong, but she explained WHY I was wrong, and what they really do have in their humps."
"Yup!" cried Dad excidedly. "That's my girl!"
Mom sighed, "So why is this a problem?"
"I don't like her saying I'm wrong!"
- This lesson didn't sink in until much farther down the road, as people in general, not just 3rd grade teachers, don't like being told they're wrong. College professors don't like it either.
This was quickly discovered when I was in my 3rd year of college at SUNY Alfred. Frank & I were 15, and stuck in this most horrid "Basic Math 101" class, or more correctly, "Art 101: Bringing doodles to life"
Mr. Richardson did not think I was cute, or kind, or informative when I was telling him he was wrong in front of the Andover Central School 3rd grade class. He loathed that inevitable moment when I would shake my little blonde head and say "Nah-uh! Mister Richardson!" He hated it so much, he even called my parents in for a meeting to address the issue.
"Well, Mr & Mrs Gray, Elizabeth has been disrupting the class."
Mom leaned foward, "What did she do?"
"Well, you see, I was talking about camels with the classs, and explaining the purpose of their humps."
"Right," said mom, "And how they don't store water, right?"
Mr. Richardson sighed, "Actually, I didn't know that."
"You thought they stored water in their humps?"
"Yes."
"And you said that?"
"Yes."
"She told you how wrong you were, didn't she?"
"Yes." said Mr. Richardson almost under his breath. "And not only when I said they store water did she say I was wrong, but she explained WHY I was wrong, and what they really do have in their humps."
"Yup!" cried Dad excidedly. "That's my girl!"
Mom sighed, "So why is this a problem?"
"I don't like her saying I'm wrong!"
- This lesson didn't sink in until much farther down the road, as people in general, not just 3rd grade teachers, don't like being told they're wrong. College professors don't like it either.
This was quickly discovered when I was in my 3rd year of college at SUNY Alfred. Frank & I were 15, and stuck in this most horrid "Basic Math 101" class, or more correctly, "Art 101: Bringing doodles to life"
posted by squishedlizard at 7:51 AM
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