What little thing as a kid had a huge effect on your later life?

[mokan]

Two teachers in particular made a difference

Two teachers made a huge difference for me.

The first ... in Jr High science class, I was bored while the teacher was talking. I'd drawn a solar powered car with all sorts of gadgets hanging off of it. He walked by me, tapped the drawing & said "it'll never work" and then went on with his lecture. After the class, he explained that solar panels could barely power a light bulb, let alone the car & all its stuff. He introduced me to his Science Digest stash - years & years of articles. I ended up getting an engineering degree & mostly because he took the time to make a difference.

I was in the equivalent of AP classes when we moved to a more rural area. The new school was essentially a year behind the old one. My English teacher noticed very quickly that I was acing out the quizzes without effort and talked to me about it. He setup a custom study program just for me... made me read books in a variety of genres & report on them. So many life lessons in that experience - the need to be flexible, to challenge people, to read and understand, expand horizons, better to ask forgiveness than permission, etc..

 

[Backpacker]

Paper route. Taught me about collecting money, paying bills, being responsible and on time. A half century later, I still have paper route nightmares where I forget to deliver for a whole week.

Got my first paper route summer after 5th grade. Came home from church camp and my mother told me i had a route. Never heard either parent complain about work and my father always had 2 jobs. Paper route taught me about profit and loss, collection efforts and giving good service. Blizzard of 78 I delivered papers every day, raked in tons of tips

 

[TimeMeasure]

This is such a fascinating thread... and such a good original question to start it all off!

"What little thing as a kid had a huge effect on your later life?"​

It brought back a lot of memories, to read about paper routes, and Catholic school, and on and on...

Looking back at those distant years, I have some of these same recollections, but hearkening back to the original question about "little things," they feel in retrospect like "big things" (at least to a little kid!) - they were formative events that went on for months or years. What seem now like "little things" were the very short events that, nonetheless, somehow had an outsize impact, and looking back, mostly those events were words: sometimes negative, sometimes positive.

From a short, negative remark from a teacher, one suddenly learns: Be cautious in communication; humans don't necessarily assume positive intent, and can be quick to take offense, even at an innocent and well-intended attempt at humor.

And from an unexpected positive remark from a teacher, one can take a measure of inner comfort that can last through darker times and have a disproportionate effect on later life. We were not Catholic, but were sent to Catholic school. Most of the teachers were nuns, but one of the teachers there was a gruff, no-nonsense older German man. All the kids were a little afraid of him. His name was the one mentioned whenever other teachers wanted to invoke discipline in the kids. He was serious, not given to joking or to compliments, and his name was not one that came to mind when one thought of kindness.

One day in class, cannot even recall why, maybe as a comment on something written as an assignment, he said aloud to the class, almost as an off-hand remark, "[TimeMeasure] is a wild rose." It was so unexpected, and so completely out of character, that it registered deeply, and I remembered it from time to time in coming years. For many of us, the experience of being seen, really seen, as we really are, particularly by a stranger, is very rare. It felt like that had happened. Someone had seen something, in a young creature, and had found it good. That memory lingered, and made it easier to persevere through the extended periods of conflict and combat in later years, with a measure of perspective.

 

[Dash man]

I noticed as a kid the bullies always picking on kids that couldn’t defend themselves. They often wanted their lunch money or just want to push them around. I got a few friends of mine together and we would run interference for the victims of the bullies and their entourage. Never got into a fight as they always backed down. A few years later in high school I got jumped by two brothers who wanted to put me in my place. They didn’t realize I was a varsity wrestler and it was quite easy dealing with two of them. They went into hiding for the rest of the school year out of embarrassment. The older brother eventually got arrested for animal abuse, having been reported by one of the former victims of his bullying.
I taught my son to not worry about bullies and to help others who were being bullied. Taught him some self defense techniques too, just in case. He never got into a fight. Made a lot of friends though.

 

[kimcdougc]

Interesting thread. Grew up lower middle class like many here. Started collecting coke bottles at around 8 years old. Sisters would spend money, I would save mine. Had a regular babysitting job at 12. Did that until I was 15 and went to work in a steak house. Left home at 17 and worked full time my junior and senior year of high school. I was never encouraged to go to college.

Worked 2 jobs until I got married at the ripe old age of 19. Knew the man two weeks and here we are 39 years later. We were so poor. By the grace of God and determination. We sat home many years while our family members went on vacations etc. DH got his college 2 year degree with his GI bill when I was pregnant with our first child. He eventually got his Masters in Business. Lesson learned collecting those coke bottles. Pay myself first, free things are ok to do and no need to keep up with the Jones.



Life lesson now is that we are retired at 50 and 57 for DH. Sister's still working and won't be able to ever retire.

 

[Rustic23]

I was the youngest boy of five kids. By the time it was time for me to think about money there was no allowance, and money had run out for college. If I wanted to spend I had to make it. I started working about 12 selling cokes at Rice Stadium in Houston and worked ever since. I put myself through college on a scholarship, and LBMM until we retired. So there was no one event.

 

[aja8888]

I was the youngest boy of five kids. By the time it was time for me to think about money there was no allowance, and money had run out for college. If I wanted to spend I had to make it. I started working about 12 selling cokes at Rice Stadium in Houston and worked ever since. I put myself through college on a scholarship, and LBMM until we retired. So there was no one event.

The common thread event for many of us is growing up poor and having to make it on your own with no family financial or guidance help. That sets in at an early age.

 

[Penny6]

Living in poverty with disorganized and nonmobile adults in charge. Realizing from a very young age 6yrs old this is not my forever reality. Learning the how- hard work, persistence, determination along with education and self control w the money-lessons learned over time (no one is going to help you, or do it for you). From selling candy to string, or bracelets to whatever the 8yr old consumer would buy from my locker to working on the books the day of my 16th bday 1st official day I could. Pursuing a degree in a marketable field healthcare- spurred on by taking care of my disabled brother from the age of 6 and realizing I need $$$$$ to take care of myself and him when my mom dies. Faith and hope in Christ from my youth that this journey was leading to some place better-and it was!

 

[gretah]

Terrific thread. Thanks for starting it, OP!

My family members were not nice people. My parents and most white people in my childhood town were racist. Then came mandatory desegregation and bussing. I thought it was an adventure and liked it.

The town didn’t. There were race riots including police using tear gas in my high school to quell violence by students and parents.

I hated people being treated so badly. I was furious at the injustice and powerless to do anything about it as a kid.

But I loved school and a few high school teachers took me under their wings. They helped me apply for a foreign exchange scholarship and I went to Scandinavia. The school I attended had students from different parts of the world.

That trip changed my life. I learned that there were people who embraced different races and cultures as well as people who chose what kind of lives they wanted to lead and then made them happen. I saw people working together instead of fighting.

I went back to my old high school and started doing volunteer work. My teachers helped me apply for college scholarships and I was awarded one at my favorite teacher’s alma mater: one of the nation’s top private women’s colleges.

I’ve done lots of volunteer work every year since age 25, mostly to further educational opportunities for girls, minorities, and poor kids.

 

[dixonge]

Spent most of my life struggling against hidden obstacles. Childhood fundamentalism/indoctrination, ADHD, being fairly poor. Just becoming aware of these things allowed me to begin to overcome them. Unfortunately the awareness came late.

If I have anything to attribute my current relative success to, it would be:

1 - Not being born a minority.
2 - marrying up.

tl;dr - I've been lucky so far

 

[Marita40]

TimeMeasure stated:

And from an unexpected positive remark from a teacher, one can take a measure of inner comfort that can last through darker times and have a disproportionate effect on later life. We were not Catholic, but were sent to Catholic school. Most of the teachers were nuns, but one of the teachers there was a gruff, no-nonsense older German man. All the kids were a little afraid of him. His name was the one mentioned whenever other teachers wanted to invoke discipline in the kids. He was serious, not given to joking or to compliments, and his name was not one that came to mind when one thought of kindness.

One day in class, cannot even recall why, maybe as a comment on something written as an assignment, he said aloud to the class, almost as an off-hand remark, "[TimeMeasure] is a wild rose." It was so unexpected, and so completely out of character, that it registered deeply, and I remembered it from time to time in coming years. For many of us, the experience of being seen, really seen, as we really are, particularly by a stranger, is very rare. It felt like that had happened. Someone had seen something, in a young creature, and had found it good. That memory lingered, and made it easier to persevere through the extended periods of conflict and combat in later years, with a measure of perspective.

This made me tear up. You are so right. It was a beautiful comment and I can see why it has stuck in your memory. So many of us as adults forget how much such things can matter to a child.

 

[HFWR]

TimeMeasure stated:
This made me tear up. You are so right. It was a beautiful comment and I can see why it has stuck in your memory. So many of us as adults forget how much such things can matter to a child.

Or to an adult...

 

[socca]

Well, being suddenly and viciously physically attacked by a counselor who I admired and respected when I was away at a summer camp at age 12 has certainly affected the rest of my life, especially in the area of social relations. The best way to think of the effect on my life is in term of cat socialization: a "properly" socialized cat will eagerly approach a stranger with tail in the air, a mildly traumatized / partially socialized cat will be aloof and distrustful for quite some time before becoming comfortable with a stranger, and a completely feral / unsocialized cat will permanently shy away from humans. I fall into the middle category. I am quite comfortable with my rather extreme introversion, and I've long since given up trying to make the extreme extroverts understand what it's like to be me.

Some interesting background:
• the mental trauma associated with the attack I experienced (there was no physical injury - I ran like hell from my attacker and escaped) was so overwhelming that I repressed the memory of the event for 5 years. The story of how I "recovered" this memory is rather amazing for students of the human mind. I still can't believe it actually happened. Maybe I should write a book someday.
• there was a period quite a few years ago when all sorts of troubled people were coming forward claiming to have "recovered" repressed memories with the help of therapists / counselors. I was and am skeptical of these claims. In my opinion, memory repression / recovery can occur in only very special (and thus highly uncommon) situations. Memory repression / recovery has been out of the news for quite a few years now; I haven't googled the topic to find out how mainstream psychology views this topic.

I don't think about this part of my life very often, but it's probably good for me to do so. No human child should ever have to experience what I did, but (sadly) traumatic events happen all the time, and some of them happen to children.

 

[scrabbler1]

While I wasn't exactly a kid but a sophomore in college (age 19), a small thing became a turning point in my academic success in college back in the 1980s.


I had struggled in my freshman year at NYU. I nearly flunked a liberal arts course (one I actually was interested in) and had dropped a few others, giving back the AP credits I had earned in high school. But I had also become depressed at the list of courses in liberal arts areas I had no real interest in. NYU had expanded their liberal arts program the year I got there.


I learned that I could apply for a transfer to NYU's business school whose liberal arts requirements were far less than in the liberal arts school, in exchange for many required business oriented courses I felt I could handle. As I applied for a transfer which was still pending as I began my sophomore year, I began taking some courses freshmen usually took so I would not fall behind when it came to pre-requisite courses taken by upper classmen.


One of those courses was a basic Macro-Economics course, a course I felt I should be able to ace. However, I was struggling halfway through the semester, getting a B on the midterm exam. The instructor, a grad student from Sweden, had a brief chat with me after the midterm and told me, "You can still get an A in the course."


I somehow found that very motivating and studied very hard the rest of the way, revamping my study habits to ace the final exam and get an A in the course. The internal transfer to the business school was accepted and I was well on my way to a successful time in college.


I still had some more hurdles to overcome before I was done at NYU, but a big turning point in my college years was that little thing the Economics instructor told me and how it motivated me to ace that course. I would go on to ace the next 5 economics courses I took as an eventual Econ major and earn an award. Without that first A, I would not have won that award.