The One Where I Got it All Wrong

Kindergarten was pretty sweet. We had a great big colorful rug where the day started in community. We took turns singing how we were doing every day. The beauty was we all got to hear how others were when they shared and we each shared how we were doing as well. I love community. I guess I love it even when it’s pushed rather than unconsciously chosen.

I still recall many days that year sitting in a circle on that rug taking turns trying to learn to tie a shoe. Good memories.

Another day I took a test with a white cardboard constructed box outlining the edges of my desk. I could only look at the paper in front of me. I could only look at the paper in front of me! For once my active mind was overwhelmed with a sense of focus. It was much simpler to complete the task at hand when I could address only it. What a gift.

And yet it still has taken most of my life to process how helpful that mandate to focus can be. I only remember that mind protector coming out once for a test, but I liked it a lot. It stuck with me.

Kindergarten left one dark day etched in my memory though. I call the event: “Corduroy.”  When I think back to that year, I think I was indifferent about my intellect. I didn’t think I was particularly bright nor particularly daft. I knew there was a lot I didn’t understand, but I also liked to learn and I liked to work hard. When things clicked in my mind, I liked that.

I sat at my seat that day and listened to the instructions for the test. We were being tested over placement, such as left and right. The instructions were one must answer each question according to what was located where directionally, i.e. in this picture, what is the toy to Corduroy’s left or what is the item to Corduroy’s right?

I took the test in earnest. I remember studying the picture as I sat in my seat and completed questions. I was not nervous. This is something I understood.

When we were advised of test results, I missed every one of those questions. Every. Single. One.

Have you ever thought you were 100% right and you were completely wrong? That was me that day. Obviously, I haven’t forgotten.

Here’s what I came to understand. When those questions were asked, they were asked under the presumption that I am looking at Corduroy.

When I heard those questions, I operated under the presumption that I was putting myself in Corduroy’s shoes, knowing what is to his left, to his right. I answered according to how he was experiencing life.

I still see why I did what I did, and I see why the teacher had her outlook.

I was answering the wrong way; I was operating with the wrong approach. This test was given by the teacher, and according to the teacher, I was all wrong.

My test result or grade is not what mattered to me that day. It was kindergarten; it was not about the grade.

If you ask me to this day about something to my left or right, I will still have my Corduroy mental moment where I’m taking a split second – or three seconds – to decipher how you are approaching that question. And I still call it “Corduroy.”

I learned a few things that day:

• Sometimes you think you have it all right and you have it all wrong. You can be completely confident, but that doesn’t always mean you have the right answers. It matters to whom you are answering; know your audience.
  
• Some people don’t put themselves in others’ shoes. In this case, they actually weren’t supposed to do so. However, they may not anyway.
  
  I see value in considering even if for a split second – or three seconds – “if that were me, how would things look? What would I think? What would I feel?”
  
  I don’t regret my answers because they helped me realize that I want to think of others and put myself in their shoes. I think being able to see how people are similar to us, rather than how they are different, helps a lot in life.
  
• Perception matters. You get to choose how you see things. It helps to understand the lens through which you look. Our opinions are biased. They come from our experiences, from what we were taught, from what we have seen occur, from what we have read. It’s important to understand that our own perception of life plays a role in what we are processing.
  
• Because everyone sees something one way doesn’t mean it’s bad if you see it another. It can be helpful, even groundbreaking, to look at things differently than others. It probably is good to realize at some point that you are doing so, and it also helps to know why you are doing so.
  
  I get that I didn't answer correctly that day, but I understand my responses.
  
  If Corduroy actually needed that ball next to him, which perspective would make the most impact?
  
  Does it matter if I can see things from only my perspective or also can see from another's?

Love,

Clarity Mint