Perfection

Grade school in the post WWII and post civil war Greece was in the same stressed for resources condition as the rest of the country. Classes were doubled up, and the children ended up hearing next years lessons while occupied with reading and writing, and the year after  had as background the class they had outgrown. There were about sixty children in a class for thirty, squeezed three at a time into desks built for two, which helped a bit in the winter, as there was no heating.

A prize was given each year by a foundation for the best student of the sixth grade. When I was in fifth grade it was obvious who the best student was to all the children, of both grades. It was Mary, who was always ready with answers for everything. Nevertheless, the end of the year report card of Mary, was two points lower then the one of Electra. Those two points were in calligraphy and drawing, where she had a nine instead of a ten. The prize went to Electra, to the great chagrin of all children. It came out that Electra had had the teacher at home for private tutoring, something forbidden , but in those hard times nobody was really checking.

That was what turned me militant at twelve. I decided this would not happen to me, even though my father was against private tutoring since it was not needed. I have never ever studied and worked as much  in the rest of my academic life, as I worked the year I was twelve, in order not to leave any excuse for not being awarded  the prize. I remember walking in the garden for hours learning by heart history, geography, plants, what have you, over and over again. Maths was easy for me.

 That year the teacher was obliged by the ministry to keep a daily report card of every time the student was examined and graded. I still have it. It is all full of 10, the highest mark. Nothing below, and I got the prize.

 That year the Queen could not award it, and I curtsied instead to the lady in waiting. I still have the prize, a children's books about a boy Argonaut.