This fine essay reminds me of 4th grade, the most difficult year I think I ever had in school. I was failing at the end of a quarter, or whenever report cards were sent home, and we had to get a parent's signature. I forged my father's (badly). My punishment was to walk to school for a week, 3 miles down the mountain carrying my French Horn (I may have taken the bus back home). My mother confessed to me many years later that she wondered, around that time, what I would do with my life.
I'm sure this experience made you a better teacher. I'll admit to some wistfulness on that point, knowing that we both found our way into the academy against the expectations of others and then found ourselves disenchanted enough with academic culture to eventually leave it. There are other bright kids out there with untapped scholarly potential, and I'm sorry that we can't be there to mentor them in the ways that we once could. It's yet another form of representation that matters.
Helloooo from a fellow ADDer. This … so beautifully written! (Sorry, Mrs. Butler, there’s more to beautiful writing than penmanship). Also sweet and funny and inspiring.
My dreaded red F was for a fifth grade test of the US states and capitals. I had forgotten about it until that morning, or maybe hadn’t heard the teacher making the announcement at all. I tried to cram at the last second and even then only recalled a few. After school, I tore that test paper into tiny pieces and dropped them into a window well at Second Reformed Church, just off the alley.
Decades later, a diagnosis helped me understand so much, including the fact that along with ADD’s grab bag of frustrations comes curiosity and persistence and, if you’re lucky, a gift.
You, Bob Leonard, were lucky. And so are we. Thank you for sharing this.
Ours was Comptons, '53, set in a book rack in the loo and within easy reach. I saved "S" for last--too thick. Dad finally took the lock off the door.
And in the same vein--distance from outhouse to pump? Percent slope and which way?
M. Gartner had a "Words" column 40 years ago, written I think for the WSJ but somehow--miraculously--syndicated to the Register as well. The fun was to use the always obscure word in an otherwise innocent conversation that day.
My epiphany also came in writing from an authority figure but at the advanced age of 22. It began "Greetings" and was just as transformative.
Thanks for sharing Bob. Wonderfully written. I did often feel like I was trying to decipher an ancient language when reviewing your comments on papers and assignments :-) Now I understand more of the history behind that. We had a World Book Encyclopedia set growing up too, and it was also my entrance into the world of scholarship. The pre-internet Internet.
Great story Rob! I don’t remember your red F, but do remember your poor penmanship. At some point, if I remember right, mom decided it didn’t really matter that much in the grand scheme of things.
This fine essay reminds me of 4th grade, the most difficult year I think I ever had in school. I was failing at the end of a quarter, or whenever report cards were sent home, and we had to get a parent's signature. I forged my father's (badly). My punishment was to walk to school for a week, 3 miles down the mountain carrying my French Horn (I may have taken the bus back home). My mother confessed to me many years later that she wondered, around that time, what I would do with my life.
I'm sure this experience made you a better teacher. I'll admit to some wistfulness on that point, knowing that we both found our way into the academy against the expectations of others and then found ourselves disenchanted enough with academic culture to eventually leave it. There are other bright kids out there with untapped scholarly potential, and I'm sorry that we can't be there to mentor them in the ways that we once could. It's yet another form of representation that matters.
Our obstacles can become our biggest gifts! Thank you for sharing-- and collaborating!
Bob— Now that’s what I call a memoir! You and Bryson’s Thunderbolt Kid would have had a great time together!
Oh, Bob! What a story of turning a teacher's cruelty into a gift. THANK YOU!
Helloooo from a fellow ADDer. This … so beautifully written! (Sorry, Mrs. Butler, there’s more to beautiful writing than penmanship). Also sweet and funny and inspiring.
My dreaded red F was for a fifth grade test of the US states and capitals. I had forgotten about it until that morning, or maybe hadn’t heard the teacher making the announcement at all. I tried to cram at the last second and even then only recalled a few. After school, I tore that test paper into tiny pieces and dropped them into a window well at Second Reformed Church, just off the alley.
Decades later, a diagnosis helped me understand so much, including the fact that along with ADD’s grab bag of frustrations comes curiosity and persistence and, if you’re lucky, a gift.
You, Bob Leonard, were lucky. And so are we. Thank you for sharing this.
Wonderful. Just Wonderful! Curious: were Butler and Schneckloth nuns and some time? Asking a for a friend😉
I never knew any of this about you, Bob. I really enjoyed it, lovely article.
Margaret
Ours was Comptons, '53, set in a book rack in the loo and within easy reach. I saved "S" for last--too thick. Dad finally took the lock off the door.
And in the same vein--distance from outhouse to pump? Percent slope and which way?
M. Gartner had a "Words" column 40 years ago, written I think for the WSJ but somehow--miraculously--syndicated to the Register as well. The fun was to use the always obscure word in an otherwise innocent conversation that day.
My epiphany also came in writing from an authority figure but at the advanced age of 22. It began "Greetings" and was just as transformative.
Keep them vignettes comin', Bob!
That story is simply amazing and so beautiful. What an incredible gift you have given us. Thank you, Bob. My world just became richer.
Thanks for sharing Bob. Wonderfully written. I did often feel like I was trying to decipher an ancient language when reviewing your comments on papers and assignments :-) Now I understand more of the history behind that. We had a World Book Encyclopedia set growing up too, and it was also my entrance into the world of scholarship. The pre-internet Internet.
Terrific piece, Bob.
Great story Rob! I don’t remember your red F, but do remember your poor penmanship. At some point, if I remember right, mom decided it didn’t really matter that much in the grand scheme of things.
My handwriting is bad enough that I often have trouble figuring out my own words.
It's nice to be able to use a keyboard to communicate with the world. It's even better knowing I wasn't the only one with a ruined recess or two.