I’ve learned a thing or two within my lifetime, and I’m certain there’s a lot more yet to learn. But as I think back on my childhood, I increasingly realize that I learned most of the really important stuff outside of school (ironic, given that I spent more waking hours in school than I did at home).
Here are some of the most important things I’ve learned in life (and didn’t learn at school):
The joy of work
Homework is rarely fun, but self-directed work is both exciting and fulfilling. Building forts, mowing yards, rubbing my mother’s feet for nickels - learning how to work didn’t just make pennies for my piggy bank, it made fond memories and rich experiences.
The joy of service
As fulfilling as work is, I think I found even more happiness in serving others with no thought of reciprocation. I can attribute much of this to good parents, active religious associations and dedicated Boy Scout leaders. From collecting canned goods for charity to repairing hurricane victims’ homes to dedicating a couple of years of my life to full-time voluntary missionary service - these are educational experiences that text books can’t give you.
Creativity
I believe that children are naturally creative. In general, school tends to stifle creativity, putting kids in the habit of only doing what they’re told instead of expressing themselves in unique ways. I applaud those teachers who try to provide creative outlets for their students.
I recall one such teacher in the eighth grade. A few of my classmates and I expressed some interest in creating some humorous videos (In Living Color was popular at the time). Our teacher encouraged us to pursue this whim and even let us use some class time to brainstorm our ideas. He also arranged to get us a VCR and TV in class one afternoon to show our videos to the rest of the class. We did the work after school and on weekends at home, using our parents’ video cameras and VCRs to film and edit. The final product consisted of several comedy skits and a voice-over scene of Jean-Luc Picard and two scantily-clad Klingon women. Fortunately, this was long before the days of YouTube, so there won’t be a permanent record of embarrassment.
Though we were fortunate to have a teacher who encouraged our creativity, he was an exception. The creativity, however, didn’t come from schooling. It came from our natural desires to experiment and from trying to find something to do during the few moments when we weren’t burdened by school work.
How to forgive
My brother is 21 months older than me. Because of our close age, we did a lot of things together growing up. One of those things was fighting. He threw chairs at me. I chipped his tooth with a trumpet.Boys will be boys.
And moms will be moms.
And thanks to a patient mother’s teachings of forgiveness (and forcing us to sit on the couch and hold hands for five minutes as punishment for fighting), my brother and I have managed to remain friends thirty years later (but we don’t hold hands anymore).
How to take responsibility for my actions
When I was about 12 years old, one of the kids in the neighborhood tried for weeks to get me to fight him. I had no desire to fight him. He hadn’t done anything to offend me, so I didn’t really see the point. I kept putting him off, saying I couldn’t fit him into my busy schedule, but he and several other neighborhood kids persisted until I relented.
When the fight started, I remember seeing his drunk parents cheering us along with all the other neighborhood kids (they encouraged their children to pick fights often). The fight had just begun when out of the corner of my eye, from across the street, I noticed my father emerge from our front door. The look on his face was not, “I’m coming to save you, son.” It was more like, “don’t worry about that other boy hitting you, because I’m going to kill you myself.” He strode over to where we were fighting, grabbed my the hair, dragged me into the house and tossed me into my bed.
I don’t recall Dad ever saying anything to me about the fight again. And, as far as I know, he never talked to the other boy or approached his parents. But the lesson to me was clear: it doesn’t matter what everyone else was doing, I was fighting - and that’s not acceptable. I couldn’t control the belligerent neighbors, but I should be able to control myself.
How to love someone
Going to school didn’t teach me how to treat a woman with respect, how to help an elderly neighbor or how to make a baby laugh. School didn’t teach me how to say sorry or how to make up with my brother after a fistfight or how to send thank you cards after Christmas and birthdays. These are all things I learned at home (and rightfully so). I was lucky to have loving parents and grandparents who set good examples; I was fortunate to marry an amazingly patient woman; I was blessed to have a beautiful baby boy. Love doesn’t come from textbooks, it comes from living.
