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School memories
« My inspirationWhat I see »

School memories

11.07.13

  11:02:00 am, by   , 668 words  
Categories: Art, Collage

School memories


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My first memories of school are unpleasant. I was bored and preferred to escape into daydreams. My school mistress tried to surprise me by testing me suddenly, but I listened with floating attention, and I knew the answer. This displeased her quite a lot.
I remember a huge lack of freedom, judgments about me (in my annual reports) that were completely off the plate, sanctimonious as hell. In fact anthroposophists behaved like sectarians, in total conflict with their lofty principles of respect for persons blabla. And it has not improved in adolescence, of course. But I kept a respectable average. Besides, my parents did not care what was going on in school, they weren't interested at all in my homework, if I did or not, so I benefited from a total confidence. In my annual reports, I was described as weak and lazy brief a portrait of the perfect dunce. It's just that they granted me some understanding! And when I returned a well-turned composition, thenote was belittled because I was not working enough. Thus, for ex., being the best in French, my adopted and loved language since my teens, my work was very good, but my final score was only average! At my final exam I threw everything away, swearing never to go to a school of this type again. And it's really a joke of fate that I have been oriented to teaching where I adopted the principles of respect for the student, without hypocrisy and injustice some psy work on myself helping me to see my own role in the relationship.
It did not work 100%, but this was my horizon.
Those who knew me as a little boy say that I've always been a rebel, I assume that because I do not want to be submitted and dehumanized, squeezed like a lemon by ambitious parents and noted on scales developed by shrinks who look like the reincarnation of some Nazis or Stalinists "specialists".


for a bigger picture, click here

Souvenirs d'école

Mes premiers souvenirs d'école sont désagréables. Je m'ennuyais ferme et préférais m'évader dans des rêves éveillés. Mon institutrice tentait de me surprendre en m'interrogeant subitement, mais j'avais écouté en attention flottante, et je savais répondre. Cela ne lui plaisait guère. J'ai le souvenir d'un immense manque de liberté, de jugements sur mon compte (dans mes bulletins annuels) qui étaient complètement à côté de la plaque, moralisateurs en diable. En fait les Anthroposophes se comportaient de manière sectaire et en contradiction avec leurs beaux principes de respect de la personne blabla.Cela ne s'est pas amélioré à l'adolescence, bien sûr. Mais je maintenais une moyenne honorable. D'ailleurs, mes parents se fichaient de ce qui se passait à l'école, ne s'intéressaient pas du tout à mes devoirs, que je les fasse ou pas, de sorte que je bénéficiais d'une totale confiance. Dans mes bulletins annuels, on me décrivait comme mou et peu travailleur, bref le portrait du parfait cancre. C'est tout juste qu'on m'accordait quelque intelligence ! Et quand je rendais une compo bien tournée, on me rabaissait la note, car je ne travaillait pas. Ainsi par ex., étant le meilleur en français, ma langue adoptée et aimée depuis mon adolescence, mes travaux étaient très bons, mais ma note finale ne fut que la moyenne ! A ma maturité j'ai tout jeté, me jurant de ne plus jamais aller dans une école de ce type. Et c'est vraiment une farce du destin que de m'avoir orienté vers l'enseignement où j'ai adopté les principes de respect de l'élève, l'hypocrisie et l'injustice en moins, la psy m'y aidant en me permettant de voir mon propre rôle dans la relation.
Cela n'a pas marché à 100%, mais ce fut mon horizon.
Ceux qui m'ont connu petit diront que j'ai toujours été un révolté, je l'assume car je ne voudrais pas être un élève sage, soumis et déshumanisé, pressé comme un citron par les parents et noté sur des échelles élaborées par des psys qu'on dirait des réincarnations de certains « savants » nazis ou staliniens.

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Blog on art, centered on collage. It is meant as a sort of logbook of my creative work.

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