On my first day of school, before the bell even rang, I got into a fight.
It was the first of many.
I was in detention so often that my parents were never sure what time school actually finished.
By the time I was forced to switch schools two and a half years later, I had racked up 386 incident slips.
I remember the number because I was competing with another kid who got kicked out before I did.
Ultimately, a streak as a practical joker and serial disruptor was something everyone around me obsessed over, and ultimately it didn’t really matter.
A year later, I was in a gifted program at a new school. I’d won several “best orator” awards on a touring debate team and had been invited to attend the Model United Nations in The Hague.
What changed?
It turns out the most powerful course correction was a tiny one.
It was the first parent’s evening at my new school.
I was 13 and it had only been a few weeks since I’d been caught running across the school rooftops as a bet to make some money.
My parents and I sat before a physics teacher whose classes I knew I frequently disrupted.
I was white-knuckling my chair, waiting for him to rip into me.
He didn't mention a word of it.
He spent 15 minutes gushing about my abilities and potential (although he did note I should make some new friends).
Two weeks later I scored 100% on a physics test.
In retrospect, I have never seen a more powerful Jedi mind trick.
Remember that thing you cried about three years ago? Or the time you got so angry you were shaking? Or your first heartbreak? Does it still feel like the end of the world?
Sometimes all you need is a little time, or a change of narrative.
Member discussion