Learning to Learn

When people look at my writing, letters, policies, announcements and the like, believe it or not, most are impressed by my writing skills.  (Even if that first sentence leaves you somewhat bedazzled.) I am considered a good communicator although I have a couple of ex-wives who might disagree.

The other day I was working on a piece someone else had written.  I was sitting here looking up words in the dictionary (iPhone was in the other room) and I got to thinking about how my interest and ability evolved.  Looking back, I have always contributed my love of writing and interest in writing well to my public education in Los Angeles and my mother who was a monster for grammar, syntax and spelling. As much as I can acknowledge those sources, especially the latter, I almost overlooked one of the most important, my brother Dan.

Dan is 4 years older than me. We grew up together adjacent to UCLA.  One of our rituals was going up to the Research Library to do our homework.  Although I almost always limited my research to the entries in the encyclopedia, the Research Library had several up to date volumes of encyclopedias and the environment made me feel that I was doing really important work.  

Dan was always busy doing his own assignments but he would always find time to help me out.  In the course of doing so he would be critical of my writing, encouraging me to grow up and make the effort to write well.  In the course of doing so he also introduced me to Roget’s Thesaurus and directed me to the dictionary every time I needed to know how to spell a word.  All of this kindness was undoubtedly fueled by his immediate need to get me to stop pestering him but it did work well in getting me involved in learning about words.

The best part of those excursions, however, was the trailer we would pass on campus which housed a refreshment stand.  If we could come up with 30 cents between us it would buy us each a cup of hot chocolate for the walk home.  It was served in small Styrofoam cups and was so hot that first sip would make you jump and leave your tongue feeling fuzzy for days.   But it made you feel all the more grown up, walking through that campus at night, coffee cup in hand, enjoying the smell of eucalyptus and sycamore.  It was nights like those, with my brother Dan, on the campus of UCLA, walking with steaming cup of cocoa in hand, that made me want to grow up, go to college, and be smart.  Now, if I had only learned to type.