Via
Ol' Remus
Glancing out of the window, I can see the subject–and eventual
victim–of this inquiry, dangerously perched in the crotch of an old
chestnut tree, about fifteen feet above the ground. Should I rush out
and tell him to get down? Or should I let him be, hoping that he won’t
climb any higher, or, if he does climb any higher, hoping that he will
not fall?
It is probably all right, so I shall not bother him. Tree climbing is
one of the things he has learned all by himself. There aren’t many
things he will have the fun of learning all by himself. Most of the
things he is going to learn will be hammered into him–Latin and history
and grammar and mathematics up to the binomial theorem. I’m not worried
about this progress up the ladder from high school or boarding school to
college and from college to law school or medical school. It seems
incredible that the young biped now perched in the chestnut tree will
some day, without stupendous effort on my part or on his, eventually
graduate from college or even become a Ph.D.–but he will almost
certainly. The strictly educational side of his life, once he gets his
hands firmly on the lowest rung of that ancient ladder, will take care
of itself.
What concerns me is something entirely different, a good deal more
like tree climbing. I have never heard of a school or college that gave a
course in tree climbing. And human life is full of useful
accomplishments and rewarding experiences, like tree climbing–like
making a speech, for example, or being able to take care of oneself on a
camping trip: abilities that seem to me at least as valuable as a
knowledge of conjugations and the dates of battles–perhaps (if one is to
become a self-sufficient well-rounded human being) much more valuable.
What are those abilities, skills, or accomplishments, those
extra-curricular proficiencies that every man should have in order to be
rounded and self-sufficient, and when can he acquire them, and how?
Let me return–without looking at him, for he is probably by now
thirty feet above the ground–to the seven-year-old imp in the chestnut
tree. Impartially adding up to myself his skills other than tree
climbing, I find that he cannot count money or give change, that he is
unable to tie his own shoelaces, that he would most certainly starve if
left alone in a well-stocked kitchen, but, on the other hand, that he
can perform a rather startling back somersault off a diving board, that
he speaks and understands elementary German, and can sit down at the
piano and play, with only a few mistakes, a Mozart minuet. Clearly, to
this handful of skills and accomplishments he must add others, many
others, before he is even on the road to becoming a self-sufficient and
well-rounded young man. Leaving all formal subjects out of
consideration, he should learn how to:
- Swim
- Handle firearms
- Speak in public
- Cook
- Typewrite
- Ride a horse
- Drive a car
- Dance
- Drink
- And speak at least one foreign language well
