Childhood, the Age of Reason

I don’t do meditation, it drives me nuts. I’ve never found the point of clearing my mind; organising it… ok, fair enough, but clearing it? Meh. I need purpose and a good reason to do most things.

When I was in grade school we were taught to work out nifty paper grids, follow the grid and you have every answer to your multiplication tables. So easy, so quick, so simple. I could not be convinced that there was any reason to bother to commit those self same facts to memory. My parents could not convince me. My teachers could not convince me. My sister on the other hand, was scary.

She DIDN’T particularly like, me. She DIDN’T particularly care about my sense of self or wellbeing… and somehow she got lamped up with the job of getting me to learn my multiplication tables. Someday I must ask her how that conversation went to get her to agree to the job, but until then I will always feel cold hard cash was involved.

My sister’s approach to teaching was simple. I was not leaving the confines of my room until the full set of multiplication tables was said… and neither was she. The faster I got them done, the faster we were both free of each other. The longer I took,┬áthe more annoyed she got.

I could say my multiplication tables in totally random order from 1-12 in less than 2 minutes. After this was proven to my mother and the school year started again, I actually actively set about forgetting them by way of protest.

You see, fear just wasn’t a good enough reason; a dandy motivator but just not REASON… and even my childish self was acutely aware of the difference.


Childhood, the Age of Reason

This entry was posted in patching, eyes, eye patching, children, stigma, twist, orthoptists, reasoning, school days, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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