Thinking Happens Outside of School.
What does it mean to have the spotlight on you? Does it suggest something uncomfortable or a squirming disposition? Possibly not your first thoughts.
Perhaps a poised actor delivering lines of highly important cultural significance? Would this be your most obvious assumption? But the spotlight is a focus. An intense moment where attention is cast upon the person, sometimes willingly, and very occasionally, where the concentrated looks are not welcome.
The scene: it is summer. The uniformed pre-pubescent girl with her mother, who is clad in a colorful sundress, is being greeted by her jovial headmaster outside the school on a leafy road. A discourse ensues and the process begins again: the furry-swelling-gulping-choking in the throat, the lack of air being drawn in to propel the words and the inability to answer the question.
This child feels as though everybody surrounding her is scrutinizing the moment, as she is put on the spot. But the mother is on standby, ready to step in to avert the awkwardness of the situation and to answer for the child.
This lost voice — when would it return? With all the words learnt, the education given, the books pored over, it was inevitable that a voice would emerge. Words floating about and absorbed that needed to be pieced together. Speech that was not uttered in childhood, reclaimed later on, after a foundation of reading great literature and the experiences of an unlikely life.
And the gross teachers flanked and protected at that school by the kindly headmaster. Making this child rise up in front of her classmates and repeat the words that were beyond her pronunciation abilities. Over and over until perfected. The famous ‘th’ sound, which the child still called ‘f’. Did you not know that phonetics were learnt this way?
And then assigned to a main part in a play, with this headmaster coaching the child. As she stumbled on ‘copse’, just say it like ‘cops’, he said calmly. The cringing teachers and the incredulous pupils watching the performance of this young girl, mastering the language and “she even used a cockney accent!”
Shyness is not only painful but damaging. The hermetic seal, once broken, floods the consciousness. This girl now honed by further elocution lessons and acting classes now knows about poetic justice.
It is all too easy to pinpoint the cause of a problem. The effects, however, can linger until we face those fearful consequences and explore them. Peeling them back, layer upon layer. Then it is our time. The emerging and the awakening of our self.
This disconnect that haunts us. It is only we who can join up the dots. That generation can say, “Don’t reveal what is inside!” As if the source of this magic will eventually become arid and there will be nothing more to give.
“Live a life!” the Latin teacher said, “and then when you are 30 years old, you will be ready to write.” Another teacher, who mocked but also sowed bright ideas for the future. Absconding this wild decade of the thirties to life experiences, it will be the next decade, where all will be assessed, unlearnt and documented.
Thinking happens outside of school. And now soaking up the Germanic language and activating new sounds, it is a repeat of learning her mother tongue: mistakes, embarrassments until the woman grows in confidence with her new skills.
It is a comeback with its share of challenges. And this adult generation that patronized the child that are now attempting to leave a legacy, despite their flaws and misgivings? Uncloud, uncolor, and sift through their emotions and see what is left? It is called forgiveness and life lessons, which they did not teach you in school.
And those adults who believed in the shy little girl? Their hunches have been fulfilled, and they can watch the woman glide, and now sometimes, soar. For there is no weakness in self-improvement.
The world is disruptive — tap into this thrilling, mistake-ridden vibe! — see the past to view the future. For we live in uncertain times. We now have the promise of Artificial Intelligence to make us better humans. A human being will always lead, and a robot will only take instructions. Master yourself!
Through saving ourselves, collectively, we may save this new world, which is going to change at the speed of a lightning bolt and bring with it more individual quests of courage and development.
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Keri France is a sensitive and strong soul, who believes in the power of creativity for personal growth. If you sometimes feel you have been on the brink of success, despair, sadness, Keri has been there too. She believes in creating opportunities for herself, being enriched by experiences, and writing down her thoughts on what she has learned in the process. With a voice-over demo, collection of her own artwork, and now writing, she knows a good life is a creative life.
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