It involved a self-paced reading program where you worked through different color levels. First you were to read a paragraph or two (I think it was timed) and then you answered questions followed by grading yourself.
That was my downfall.
The class saw me soar high through all the levels quickly (at least I thought this in my imagination. Most likely they weren’t clued in). Who I was really trying to impress were my parents, especially my mom who taught me to read.
It hadn’t occurred to me at this young age that the teacher would check my work. He didn’t tell me that part. You see, I didn’t correct my mistakes, I simply declared that I hadn’t made any. I a natural political instinct even way back then.
In an instant my duplicity was exposed and then, worst of all, (and best of all looking back on it now), I was sent home to face my parents.
They didn’t spank me, that would have been easier. Instead, I had to deal with their deep disappointment as they asked with sad tear-filled eyes (I may have mis-remembered this tear-filled eyes part) the heartbreaking question, “How could you do this to our family?”
So, the answer to their question looking back from my present me, is that I thought to receive their love I had to perform well in school. I didn’t want to be treated like a second-class child chewing discarded love scraps dropped to me by my high achieving literate siblings.
Was any of this what they wanted me to learn?
Of course not.
But my eight year old brain was still in early development, and as things turned out it was a good time to absorb this important lesson on why cheating to look smart is really dumb.
I know it’s funny now because my adult-me can look at my child-me and chuckle. It also is a reminder when current grandchildren I love misbehave that they need a lot of love and support along with appropriate correction. Spoiling isn’t love.
In Conclusion, here is what I really learned.
I’m capable of lying and cheating.
I’m not very good at lying and cheating.
Getting caught feels really bad and doesn’t blow over quickly.
Restoring trust takes time and isn’t easy or fun.
What can look easy is covering up mistakes and lies hoping no one notices, but our cover will be blown — trust me on this one.
Part of our suffering until we come clean is we will not know when we will be exposed. Frankly I pray it is this side of death where we can still do something about it.
Lies breed lies.
A better life comes after the crime has been dealt with honestly and humbly.
And the most important lesson I personally learned from that event was that my parents loved and forgave me in spite of my propensity toward a life of crime.