This is going to be a multi-part story of an adult student’s (I have found that I have never stopped being a student and I am learning, each and every day, something new and wonderful) retrospective looking back at learning and the possibilities and problems thereof. I am writing these little stories in the hope that it may help someone see from the mistakes and observations that I have made, from a better vantage point in time. Thank you for reading my stories. 

I don't really remember now who the teacher was that told me that no one could teach you how to learn. Boy, do I have an argument for them now. You see, I believe that you can teach someone the mechanics of learning (I will endeavor to explain in the second part of my story for my blog on learning what I mean about the mechanics of learning) and I agree with them that learning is up to the individual. There is always a spark within someone that excites them about learning. For me, back in the day before computers, before we could look things up on the Internet and find a wealth of information instantly at our fingertips, I was more excited about the physical tactile touch of learning. I will endeavor to explain to you  what I mean about the physical tactile touch of learning. What I mean is, if I could read a how-to book and then I could do it, in other words if I could read it and shape it and mold it with my hands, it was easier for me to understand and grasp the nuances of anything.

I once had a class that was taught by a teacher at Tech High School in Memphis, Tennessee in algebra that was taught by an elderly professor from some college or university. I don't remember which school it was anymore and I don’t know if I ever really knew.

It seems that every time I asked him a question that seemed to me to be a simple and an appropriate question, there was always an insult at the end of his answer directed at me when he answered. Being a very cocky 17-year-old I had my fill of his sly and insulting remarks toward me because I found them degrading, unnecessary and a waste of my time just as I guess he felt that my questions were a waste of his time. For me to understand what the equations that we were working with, when the properties of the equation had no physical meaning, in other words, X was only being shown as X and it had no numerical meaning, then why were we going through this exercise? I would hear something about a baboon's brain at the end of his explanation that was directed toward me. So I answered him back “it's better to get knowledge from the person riding a mule northbound, rather than the mule’s southbound end”.  So he sent me to the Principal’s office where I saw one of the assistant principal’s. I explained to him what was going on and I must not have been the only student that had this complaint because he explained to me that neither one of us would be happy with me being in his class.

I later found out there were as many as 10 students over the last two years that went to study hall for the same reasons rather than taking his class. He was the only teacher that I ever lost respect for. Belittling or berating someone is bullying and should not be tolerated from either a teacher or student. I would never have learned anything in his class. I was robbed of the knowledge either by my stubbornness or by his bullying of me. I'm sure though that his technique may have worked for some people, but he should have been ashamed of himself. I know that I now am ashamed that I said anything back to him; I just should have walked out of his class and never returned and made formal complaints even though in those days nothing would have been done. Students’ complaints in those days seemed to fall on deaf ears. I would have loved to have the knowledge that I lost by not having an algebra class and using the time for a study hall. Because of his bullying, I was deprived of the education that I deserved.