Being Found Out

When I was 9 and on my fourth year of Elementary School I went back to class after 3 days absence due to a cold. My fellow students had learnt how to do long division during those three days.

The teacher ('Maestra Paola') asked one of my friends to explain to me how long division worked , whist she left the class for twenty minutes or so (to do God knows what).

Those were tough times in my class: Paola was going through some sort of family drama, and although we all were far too young to really understand what was going on - we all knew that she was always in an awful mood, and slaps had flown around the class pretty freely in the last few weeks. It got so bad that some of the students had faked illness the week we were being tested on the Italian verbs' structures. I seem to remember that I did too, but I am not totally sure.

That day Maestra Paola left the class and my friend Maria Ignazia started explaining to me how to do long division. I listened to her, silently, thinking that it was not so easy. I also thought that it was strange that the class was so quiet whilst the teacher had left - those really were tough times and we were all scared.

Then suddenly the door opened and Maestra Paola was back, that sour expression still on her face like she had some great worry on her mind.

When she came back the first thing she did was asking me if I had understood it.

' Getting there' I lied. I had in fact understood nothing about long division - I am not sure whether because my fellow 10 year old student had not been an outstanding teacher, or whether I could not get it first time around. Little did I know the price I would pay for giving that answer.

'Ok, let's see' Maestra Paola summoned me immediately to the big blackboard in front of the whole class to test me on long division. When she called my name I almost fainted: my heart started pounding in my chest, I started feeling weak in the knees. I slowly walked to the blackboard as if I was in a dream, took the chalk with shaky hands. I was a small child against a huge black background. I felt exposed and scared.

'Let see' she said ' 1256 divided by 17'.

I wrote 1256 : 17 on the board very slowly. The numbers appeared in front of my eyes like I had written them for the very first time. I underlined the 17 as though I was about to carry out the long division.

Then  I froze. I had no idea of what I was meant to do. I just stood there, my back to the whole class, looking at those numbers in a state of trance, my mind completely blank.  I might as well been in that state for five hours, rather than only a few seconds, for it felt like time had stretched.

I remember very clearly what happened next. Maestra Paola gave me a disgusted little smile. I looked at her, my face apologetic, tears threatening to pour out carried by the humiliation I felt.  I thought she might jump up from her seat and come and slap me. But she stayed put, her face like the face of someone who is experiencing something outrageous.

'Getting there?' she said ' Don't think so'. The whole class was mute. I felt one million eyes looking at me, pitying me. I just could not move. So I just stayed there.

There is very little doubt in my mind that the precise moment laid the foundations of the events that eventually drove me to become a Mathematician. Also, that day was the beginning of me freezing when someone asks me to divide the bill on the spot, or that nagging feeling 'of being found out' when I deliver something at work. I have learnt to manage this over the years once it dawned on me where it all came from.

It is very strange to realize that what we have become in adult age has been greatly influenced by 'Point in Time' experiences that we had had in the past.

Sometimes the big decisions we take or the way we live our lives are driven by desires such as 'proving people wrong'.
Whilst in this particular case the end result has brought ultimate positive change to my life, for many people those 'Point in Time' moments become traps they might not be able to escape for their entire life.

People that have been bullied, or have had some trauma in their childhood, or whatever - might feel the same. Sometimes those events were not even that traumatic, but perhaps back then we were not equipped to see things under the right light. These blocks might be very hard to overcome.

Unless. Unless we recognize them for what they are and find a place for them inside of us. That is why Self Awareness is so important in my mind (as I mentioned several times in this blog). Whilst traumatic or challenging things do happen, and some of them are outside our immediate control, it is very important that we know where we come from and why we are what we are. This is the only way we can gain perspective on why and how past events have affected us, and move on accordingly.

In other words, we cannot allow that 9 year old self (whose reactions and feelings are the feelings of a 9 year old child) to dictate forever how we will be twenty years later. We need to 'make peace' with those events and move on in the most positive way possible.

I read in a book that a good way to do so is to imagine our current self transported to that day the events took place and then imagining having a chat with ourselves from back then, telling them that everything will be ok and not to be so sad. In other words, reinterpreting those events as adults.

Whilst most of my regression fantasies from that day involve kicking Maestra Paola in the ass, I have also managed to stand by that froze and humiliated 9 year old, hold his hand and helping out solving that long division. As cheesy as it sounds - it helped me.

Point in Time events are like crossroads. They might lead us to take a direction we don't like. It is up to us and within our remit to recognize it and rectify, for we are ultimately the ones in the driving seat.