In the kindergarten, I was a happy boy, but before one week in school
I was broken.

But then: The school.

  • I was bullied, because my father taught religion at this atheistic private school.
  • With good help from my father I, as the last, learned to read.
  • Never – not even later – learned what is necessary for a proper schoolboy:
    Spelling, The (little) multiplication table, The complicated grammar and punctuation rules, Names and year for our too many kings and Do not forget: The different patriotic songs.

New school – a class down and little progress.

  • With breathtaking good help from my mother, I just managed the hurdle and entered the secondary school.
  • Hov:
    Something happened: Real mathematics and some physics.
    Here was something this stupid boy could – even better than the rest.

My father gave up, and allowed me to skip Latin and the famous grammar.
I will never be a proper academic.
Worked hard and progressed to the high school.

  • Once more, I was lucky.
    Just passed the hurdle and began what is called the student’s happy life, at what is now called Denmark’s Technical Universety (DTU).
  • And again: Lucky to get the subject that suited me and especially for my lack of skills:
    Minimum knowledge and maximum understanding.

Out in the world:
A little weird, but somehow a good career. (http://wp.me/p1RKWc-2h)

Now old and retired.
Lucky because I happen to be born in a rich country and stay in a rich city council.
And, of course: Very thankful for the good Spelling Verifier, provided by my computer.
If not – – –

OK I have always “been different”.
Still, I remember from BBC: “The Brain of Britten”.
I could not understand the questions – except a few.
And there: I knew the answer – contrary to the clever people in the competition.

The stupid boys

In Gentofte, close to where I lived and live now again, there was a school for those who could not cope with the elementary “academic” demands.
My mother had a talk with the teachers – maybe it was something for me.
She was told that when the children came, they were broken.
And, after a short time they were happy and cheerful because they were not longer treated as being wrong.
And then it turns out maybe they were not so stupid at all.

My motto, what I tried to tell the (few) children staying by me in my little house in Tanzania – –
Just understand:
All of us have some skills – somewhere.

Danish: http://wp.me/s1RKWc-43

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