Throughout some of my formative years I was often regarded as a “Teacher’s Pet”. I understood that the term was being used in a somewhat derogatory way, but I didn’t mind. Being a Teacher’s Pet meant that I was doing the right thing, and at the time I could only conclude that my peers were jealous by not being able to do the same. Towards the end of our lunch period, I would sometimes keep an eye on the clock in the courtyard and hover around the area we were required to line up in our respective classes, before being instructed to head back into the school row by row. Being so close meant that I was often first in line, and with my back made straight and shoulders held high, I was happy to be there. On one particular occasion, one of the Dinner Lady’s noticed this and praised me for always listening to the instruction, as they would often need to blow their whistle a number of times to grab the attention of others. One of my classmates noticed this, and hurled the “Teacher’s Pet” remark at me. No doubt he was jealous of my steadfastness…
Or was he? As I’ve been thinking back to this, I thought more about how these events played out. With the dinner ladies signalling time to line up in our rows, there would often be around 5 minutes of “play” time left. Our lunch period was only 45 minutes in total, so this represented more than 10% of our free time, where we’d just be required to stand still. This wasn’t important to me as I’d had plenty of time with my friends, I was more concerned about doing what I was told. However, my classmates may have really enjoyed whatever they were doing, whether that was a game of football, hopscotch or trading their Top Trumps (I was always envious of this one kid with almost every card stored in a large ring binder). The extra time was useful, and there weren’t any consequences to lining up at the last second, so this may have been a no-brainer to them.
Going forward to the end of our primary school term (aged 11), the entire year group were to vote for the “Best Boy” and the “Best Girl”. This takes place every year, and the winners have their name engraved on a trophy along with all the previous pupils of the final year group. Needless to say, you couldn’t vote for yourself; the idea was to choose the person who had done extremely well throughout the years. To my delight, I won “Best Boy” and the trophy with my name engraved is present at the school even to this day.
So, why am I sharing these memories? Well, it can be easy to lean towards having an inflated view of yourself when you’ve been rewarded for what those taking the lead regard as being good. My peers who needed to be called more than once to line up, maybe they were more aware than me on the insignificance of the 5 minute whistle. Maybe they simply valued whatever activity they were undertaking more than the praise they might receive for being a “Good” student; that certainly would make sense looking back on it as an adult.
At the time, it seemed incredibly easy to do the right thing; simply follow the guidance of those around you, and you’ll do well. It couldn’t be much simpler in my eyes. However, that was relatively easy for me to say. Generally, I didn’t have much to quibble about. At that age, I was perfectly happy with what I had, and that would continue for years to come.
Which gently leads me onto another memory. We’re going forward in time, to my late teens. I have two siblings who I’m very close to, but as I’m sure is the case with most siblings, it’s not always sunshine and rainbows… On a particular occasion, I disagreed highly with one of them on something that I felt strongly about at the time. The detail isn’t important, but if there’s one thing to be sure of, I was absolutely certain about being correct in my viewpoint. So much so, that I wouldn’t utter a single word to them for a number of weeks. That’s serious commitment when we lived in the same house. I choose not to live with regret in most things; I prefer to view life’s challenges as a good learning experience, which shapes you into a more well-rounded person. However, if I could turn back time, I would choose not to have put them through that. I chose to be stubborn in what I thought was right. You see, it was easy for me at the time; I was content. I hadn’t considered that someone else could view something differently, through their own experience.
To be Self-righteous; it’s a dangerous game. Life’s circumstances may lean in your favour, and to do what’s right seems easy. However, times change, and coming face-to-face with your own challenges may help you to see that it isn’t as easy as merely following what those around you have to say. Critical thinking goes a long way, and having the ability to reason on a matter you’re passionate about may result in a positive change of heart. So, don’t be so quick to conclude that you’re the virtuous one.
JW Blog 