What we really learn in school
It all occurred to me long ago that I hated school. It wasn’t about a place; It was the idea of it. But I didn’t quite get what it was until recently.
Early years
When I was five, I was technically homeschooled for a few years, since my parents turned our home into a preschool, where I also went. It was a couple of great years when I felt no separation between learning and being loved. That was until the reality hit and the landlord forced us out of our rental. From then it felt like my parents had lost all faith and decided to throw in the towel because I was sent to a traditional Asian primary school where I would spend a decade being corrected, humiliated, and punished systematically by the teachers.
To make things worse, I was subsequently transferred to an Adventist school, where I had the privilege of arguing with a Bible teacher that dinosaur fossils in museums were not carved stones made to fool humans. And of course, like most wimpy kids in all high schools, I was bullied. Clearly, there were bad elements even in God’s school. I occasionally bonded with a few teachers who clearly went above and beyond and became friends with me.
Ma’am Kristi, who instilled sense in me when I naively drew a Swastika alongside my signature kangaroo character on some card. I thought I saw it somewhere and it looked pretty cool.
Sir Ray, an English teacher, started my passion in reading and writing. It was around the time that I discovered Ray Bradbury and my passion for science fiction.
Ma’am Sarah, who was a flamboyant personality and a confidante to everyone in her home room. She became a matchmaker for me and many of my friends to get the girls we liked for prom dates.
One incident that I still remember to this day was when Luis Checo (somehow we never really called him sir), my algebra teacher, decided to embark on an experiment where there would be no homework for a semester. It was memorable because that was when I began to like math and jumped from a C to a B+ student.
School is a game
Then, as I was getting comfortable, with a sprinkle of financial downturn, my dear father decided it was better to home-tutor me in order to get into a renowned university. I was taken away from me my years to explore and discover what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, let alone my time with friends. I was basically under house arrest for over a year.
I scored decently on my entrance exam and got into my country’s most prestigious university. I spent years there making up my lost time exploring art, love, and more, not caring much about my grades. So in my senior year, I decided I would go out with a bang. I emulated a role student. Basically, these were what I did:
I always sit in the front row. Not just the second row. It had to be the first row, even though I was one of the tallest in class. This way, teachers always see me.
I make eye contact with them and nod as if my life depends on it, no matter how boring the lecture is.
I complete all assignments at all costs without putting much thought into them. I even copied my friends’ assignments just to complete mine.
I acquire all the top folks’ notes and review them for exams.
The experiment sent my grade up above drastically with less work on my psyche. Basically, thinking less critical makes me thrive. School is just a means to an end. Anyone could hack school.
Post college
After college, I pursued jobs in the field I graduated in, only to realize I needed much more to thrive in the real world. After trying and failing, I gravitated towards art and found coding through means of creating interactive graphics. I spent the next decade learning to code. I’ve been a designer, artist, porter, and grocery store stocker. I’ve done it all to get myself going while learning code. I don’t think like a programmer, but I’ve learned to build cool things. It would take me years before I got paid as a programmer.
However, something was missing. I was lacking whatever was needed to live the real life. Basic emotional restraint and maturity, sense of responsibility, and the ability to cope with the mundane parts of adulthood were never taught to me. Or more or less not directly. I realized that these were all parts of school and what made it so boring and pointless. It was designed to train and prepare me for a normalized world in which most people can be happy when they conform. Intentionally or otherwise, I missed the memo.
If there is one thing you send your child to school for, it isn’t what’s in the books. It’s what makes you study them. The ability to do what you dislike to achieve the greater goal is the point of school.