I just saw yesterday’s DailyPrompt about learning style, so as it usually comes with me here you go a day late (your dollar is in the mail). It reminded me of when I was just a wee tyke and had some homework in my workbook to do. As I can imagine, I filled out the pages and continued on with my carefree life of WoodyWoodPecker, Heckle&Jeckle, grubby hands, afternoon treats and waiting for my big sister to get home from bigkid school. The memory that is embedded in my mind and probably a defining property of my persona to this day is as follows. I present to you my learning style.
I remember being at home and having my Mom come over to explain to me why I had gotten a bad mark and told my answers were wrong. You see on this particular assignment, there was a picture of a rocket. Now I had to find a drawing site to recreate a picture of said rocket and hope I have managed to bring this crude drawing to this post ( I suck with computers). The rocket was a tall rectangle and two right triangles on either side of the base representing fins. There was also a vertical line in the center of the base the same height of the triangle fins, portraying the silhouette of another fin. And to top it off a nose cone.
The question asked was to write down how many triangles there were. My response was five(5), which I was reprimanded for being wrong. But I wasn’t, my logic was there was (1) the nose cap, (2 and 3) the fins on the right and left, (4) the line in the center portraying another fin. And then lastly (5), if the two fins were shown left and right as right triangles in 2-dimensions then they had to be equa-distant from each other and the fact there was the third fin showing dead center as a silhouette means there has to be a fourth fin on the other side, other-wise the rocket wouldn’t fly straight. And who would put a crooked flying rocket in a school book, right?
After this was all explained to my Mother she whole-heartedly agreed with my findings and took the matter of my failed grade to the school. Where upon conferencing with the teacher she was told once again I was wrong and there were no and’s if’s or but’s about it. I was punished for thinking and there was nothing more to it, I was dumb! So this is my style of learning I guess, being right and told I’m wrong. This scenario has played out repetitively throughout my life and has lead me to lead me to be weary of those who deny me and tell me I’m wrong. A shame really.
artistic credits go to theclockkeeper or some 4year old with a computer