THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE OPTION
A Reminiscence
From the dizzying heights of the fourth grade, a minor incident assumes epic
proportions. I was just a dumb little kid who enjoyed proving how smart he
was. And so, I was to receive my first lesson in the consequences of Good
Hope, of giving more than is expected.
Typically for her, Teacher let an ordinary writing assignment escalate into
a small scale exercise of the imagination. "Open your books to page 87. Look
at the picture there. What does it describe, what story does it tell? Write
me a short theme about it. You have 45 minutes." She retreated behind her
desk and left us hunched over our Social Studies books.
The picture showed a baker's display case. Rows of breads, cakes, assorted
pastries stared back at us in dull, grey-and-white textbook illustration.
Not very exciting, but I attacked the problem with my usual enthusiasm. And
found inspiration.
Bread-wheat-harvest-ship. I put together an odd jumble of ideas into a
gripping saga of international finance, of men and machines, of freighters
hauling cargo around the Cape of Good Hope.
I filled a whole page with my jagged scrawl. Depleted, but happy, I tore the
sheet from my Big Chief tablet and passed it toward the front. I let myself
dissolve into a daydream of how I would humbly receive Teacher's praise and
special attention.
Two days I had to wait. Teacher handed back the themes. Also mine. Atop it a
huge scarlet D.
"It can't be, it must be a mistake." No mistake. Teacher patiently explained
that one or two pupils had allowed their themes to wander off the subject,
and that she had awarded them grades to match the seriousness of the
offense.
Trembling, I folded the theme up small, into a tiny square, and stuck it
into the deepest corner of my pocket. Home for lunch, I went right into the
bathroom, tore the paper into little bits, and flushed it away. Away. So no
one would ever find it. So mother would never witness my shame. I had gotten
a D.
I did not then know that creativity is a socially destabilizing force. That
it must be carefully channeled, and failing that, suppressed. For the good
of the group. For my own good.
