Tag Archives: School

Smash

In Grade 9, I went on a class trip to a camp located near Thunder Bay, Ont. I have many vivid memories from this adventure, such as canoeing across a lake to see a beautiful waterfall, going on my first solo trail run in the woods, and attending a scary séance led by a strange girl who had recently transferred to our school.

On the final night of our stay, we were treated to a raging bonfire that was surrounded by a circle of old cars and trucks. I’m not sure if we were given permission to do this, but at some point in the evening many of us started jumping up and down on the cars and trucks and smashing in the windows and metal frames with large tree branches that been cut down for the fire. This night remains the wildest and most reckless experience of my life.

Now that I’m old and boring, I spend my days focused on protecting and repairing my employer’s brand and reputation. Sometimes I wish I could regain the freedom to simply smash and destroy something large and breakable with complete abandon. Perhaps I should consider changing my hobby from running to home renovation.

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Math Problems

Last night I woke from a dream in which I was panicking because I hadn’t taken a math class that was necessary for my high school diploma. I often had these dreams during my first year of university but they stopped soon after I attended my high school graduation.

I completed high school over 25 years ago and have since received a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree. Even if I did need the extra math class, I’m not giving back the degrees or going back to high school.

I’m not sure where this dream came from after all these years, but the experience does make me wonder where my fears go once I’ve found a solution or resolution. Are the fears expunged from my memory, or are they simply buried deep within my mind with the ability to rise up again unexpectedly to haunt me? What does it take to eliminate my fears (especially the ridiculous ones) completely?

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Circles

When I was in Grade One, my best friends lived in the sky. I would see them at recess and at lunch when I went outside to the school playground.

If you look up at the sky and then focus intently, you will notice that there are countless little circles bouncing around. I thought these swirling dots were sentient beings that could hear me when I spoke to them.

In Grade Two, my best friend was named Roberto. He lived in a house down the street from me and once gave me a bloody nose with a quick left jab. I didn’t tell him about the circles and I think it’s been 37 years since I’ve even thought about them. I can still see them (I checked the sky today), but I don’t talk to them—or Roberto—anymore.

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The Sculpture

I’ve never been good at drawing, painting or sculpting. My art class in Grade 8 was particularly stressful for me, as we needed to carve human faces onto the angled corners of a rectangle-shaped piece of clay. One of my classmates helped me create two intricate faces for my project, which included a detailed moustache. By helped, what I mean is that when he finished carving the faces for me, I took the sculpting knife and etched my name onto the bottom of the sculpture.

Later that school year, my parents brought the sculpture home from the school after a parent-teacher interview night. My mom loved this piece of art and displayed it proudly in our home. Every time I looked at it I would cringe and feel like a fraud. Despite telling my mom that someone else did the work, the sculpture remained, even 30 years later when my parents retired and moved into a smaller home.

Last year while visiting them, I helped the sculpture disappear. By helped, what I mean is that I threw it away in the garbage.

I should discard more things in my life that make me feel like a fraud as this was a liberating experience.

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Names (and the Role of Memory)

My wife, R, can remember the names of the other children who were in her kindergarten class 35 years ago. She can do the same with most of her teachers and former classmates from Grades 1-12 and also from her undergraduate and graduate courses. However, sometimes she forgets the key details from books she read just a few weeks ago or movies that she’s already watched.

I can only remember the name of one teacher from public school (I’ll blog about why another time) and none from high school or university. I also can’t recall the names of my former classmates, even though I played with many of them on sports teams. I’m embarrassed to admit that sometimes I even forget (albeit temporarily) the names of the people I work with regularly in my office. However, when I was in school, I could easily memorize the information from my school text books, sometimes word for word. And while I struggle tremendously with names, I usually remember people’s faces and the conversations we’ve had, even if they happened many years earlier.

In social settings, the ability to remember names is viewed as a positive attribute. I don’t believe the same is true for memorizing conversations. Perhaps I’m easily forgettable, but sometimes I meet a person who doesn’t seem to recognize me but I can easily recall a conversation we had years earlier. It would likely just freak them out if I took a moment to outline the details of our previous discussion. Although, I suppose it’s quite possible that they’re just pretending not to remember me.

At work, I occasionally let people tell me the same news or information a second or third time, even though I know exactly what they’re going to say. I suppose that’s weird, but this lets me shift my attention away from their words and focus instead on their expressions and body language, which I’m not always good at interpreting.

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