the submissive student

A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: There shallow draughts intoxicate the brin, And drinking largely sobers us again. -- Alexander Pope

this semester i went back to school to take a few classes towards a new teacher certification.  this means on alternate evenings, i stand up and teach, or sit and learn.

my submissive nature has always been a factor in my life as a student, and can be easily seen as i more deeply explore my submissive nature.  looking back now, from this perspective, i can see the same patterns throughout my life.

 as a child, school was often difficult and distressing for me.  i had learned to read and write at a very young age, and excelled in (and loved) these subjects.  my dyslexia, however, made math nearly unintelligible to me.  the fact that i displeased my teachers and parents because of this, and often could not do what was asked of me (however much i wanted to) left me frustrated and in pain.

i was a child in and of the seventies, when learning disabilities were something no one admitted to.  my parents were both the first in their families to graduate from college, and assumed they would have a scholarly child, who would excel in both english (my mothers strong suit) and math (my father, the accountant's best area).  i knew i was a constant disappointment to them because of this, and it left me depressed and with little self worth.

in school, i wanted desperately to please my teachers.  i was always the child who volunteered to help after school.  i would help clean the classroom, clap erasers, correct papers; anything the teacher might need.  a word of praise from them would make my day, my week.  a word of disappointment or a disapproving look would send my spirits crashing for days.

now, i can see the same eager to please attitude even in my adult classes.  i am always there with my hand in the air, eager to answer, but too shy to shout out like the other students, who invariably answer before me because they do not wait to be called on.  perhaps i am old school, compared to these eighteen year olds, but when i was a student, shouting out in class was a serious offense.  then again, i attended only private, strict, parochial schools, so it may have been different for me.

still, a word from my professor sends me soaring.  the approval is my greatest reward, more so even than a good grade, though the grades, as a part of the approval, part of the acknowledgement of a job well done, mean ever so much to me as well, though not in the sense that they do to most people.  to some it is something they look at as a part of their record, just another mark on the books.  to me, it means i did things right, that i won the acceptance and approval of the professor, that they felt i had done well.

to me, school is still a highly submissive experience, still one where i have to strive, work hard, and win approval.  in many ways, it is harder tasks Masters have laid before me, particularly my college algebra class i am taking this semester.  of course, as a submissive, there is always the further impetus that doing well in school will please one's Master... just another way to make life more interesting for the submissive student. till next we meet, be well and happy --di.

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