I was in junior high and sitting in after-school detention. They had sentenced me to hard time for being late to class, even though I had a valid excuse. See, I was only late because I hated school with a burning passion. I dreaded every class, every assignment, every test, every worksheet, every mound of busywork, every shallow and forced interaction with peers I couldn’t relate to or connect with or understand; every moment, every second, every part, every inch of every aspect of my public educational experience. I hated it. I hated all of it. I was suffocating.

So there I was in detention. Stupid me. Lazy me. Disappointing me. The teacher assigned to guard duty tried to rope me into a conversation about “my future.” She asked me about my goals and what I wanted to do with my life. 

I knew I had no academic abilities — I’d learned at least that much through years of school — but I thought about the one subject that I actually liked: marketing. 

“Well, that sounds like an amazing goal. Get those grades up and go to college for a degree in marketing!” 

Dagger. 

I have to get a DEGREE in CREATIVITY? Wait, WHAT? Your creativity comes from your own mind and your own heart — you can’t learn how to be creative. If I can write things, and people want to read the things I write, shouldn’t I be able to market that ability, regardless of my college experience? I knew my basketball ability would provide a free scholarship education for me, but I was dying inside. 

I think formal education can stifle learning in some cases for some people. We don’t all learn the same way. I, for one, learned more in my years out of grad school than I ever learned in school. That’s not the school’s fault. That’s just how I operate. And I’m not alone. That’s the point. That was the point of this whole thing.