Your School Was Not My Playground

Your School Was Not My Playground

I had scarcely passed my twelfth birthday when I entered the inhospitable regions of examinations, through which for the next couple of years I was destined to journey.  These examinations were a great trial for me.  The subjects which were dearest to the examiners were almost invariably those I fancied least.  I would have liked to have been examined in history, poetry, and writing essays.  The examiners on the other hand, were partial to Science and Mathematics.  Moreover, the questions which they asked on both these subjects were almost invariably to which I was unable to suggest a satisfactory answer.  I should have liked to be asked to say what I knew.  They always tried to ask what I did not know.  When I would have willingly displayed my knowledge, they sought to expose my ignorance.  This sort of treatment had only one result: I did not do well in examinations.

I can’t even start to ponder how I finished school, though even when I was a little, I  have always knew that I will succeed, because I was crazy enough to believe that I cannot fail.

So I leave it to you to imagine how much I congratulate myself.  Thanks to Winston Churchill and Salvador Dali for teaching me that madness is beautiful!

 

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