Growing up on the Norwegian countryside, in a very conservative town, lent itself to many challenges for a young and explorative mind.
When I was a kid, I was a handful in the classroom. I did not particularly like to sit still, and I seldom found the course load particularly interesting nor challenging. I was good at doing my homework, and thus seldom fell behind. My teachers were of the ‘old school’, averaging over 50 years for most of my primary school teachers. They had seen their fair share of troublemakers and knew that though discipline was the most effective remedy. If I didn’t find my groove, at least I’d be sanded down in the process so as to create less friction in their structured teachings. At the very least, they had ‘done their part’ and could possibly send me off to some special needs program.
However, I never really got sanded down, and discipline was not for me at the time. It came to boiling points many times, as my wit and cunning was hard to grasp for some of the teachers. Quite a few times from the age of 6 to 12 I was violently grappled and shaken by teachers who found my presence and attitude so hard to handle that they lost a handle on themselves. I remember once in particular that my English teacher brought me outside the classroom to tell me off. He had tried to corner me with checking our homework, to find some ground to ground me. He assaulted me with difficult glossary, of which I sparred off easily. He proceeded to bring me outside the classroom, where he lifted me up from my armpits and shook me up against the wall while hissing at me: “If it was not for you being so smart, I would have toppled you a long time ago”.
Thinking back on this and many similar experiences though my school life, I laugh, and I cry inside. Because I loved to go to school, play football, hang out with friends, run after girls, go hiking in the Norwegian forest and learn about mathematics, physics, reading books, and much more. I also highly enjoyed being on edge with the teachers, finding their soft spots and test their limits of sanity. And this is a paradox to me that I am still grappling with to this day. How come a student like me found it so difficult to fit in to the system, and why was the system so rigid as to miss the opportunity that I, being myself, presented.
I’ve found that all the teachers I had that I really enjoyed, that I looked up to and found inspiration in were teachers that were also students in some aspects of life. They were still evolving, still exploring, never settling for a specific truth or conviction. They had multiple interests, and they offered to share them with us to give us a wider perspective of life. I’ve taken these qualities to heart and tried to discard the rest. Part of that is writing about it here. I know there are many aspects from my childhood that I’ve blinded myself to. I can barely remember any of it, apart from glimpses of episodes in school, sports or play where I’ve fucked up and awaiting punishment. I am ready to let go, thank you for reading this!