Encouraging the success of her boys at school was also important. And for my father, wasting a day at school through not trying your best was one of the worst sins imaginable. He left school at 14 – in the final year of the Second World War.

Mum recently informed me that she can’t believe I write for a newspaper. It’s not the first time I have earned such feedback. She said it with a level of pleasant surprise, however, the amazement reveals a back story.

Some people are shocked I found the traditional academic pathway challenging, struggling to keep pace with my older brother who is bright. I devoured limited crumbs of recognition, acknowledgment and approval through sporting endeavours, leadership opportunities, and talking... 

Praise and encouragement was received from PE teachers who perhaps noticed skills beyond the classroom that allowed me to thrive in competitive situations. They also recognised a thirst for sport – all sports – and although not the most gifted, determination is vital. I owe them a lot.

The conclusion of each term, culminating in the dreaded school report was a day filled with trepidation, nervousness, a haste to over-explain, and tears. It wasn’t because I didn’t receive an outstanding public-school education with several wonderful teachers. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to do well or didn’t try hard, learning was just difficult. 

Spelling was the first obstacle, followed by subtraction, and concluding with drawing. Sketching, usually stuffed native animals borrowed from the museum was absolute torture: memories recently reinforced when attending a school excursion to QVMAG. Facetiously, I offered tutelage to students with their sketch of a prominent artwork. I chuckled mid-offer. They didn’t understand. 

I continued to strive, through choosing subjects considered academic but not matched to my strengths, motivations or learning desires. This simplistic decision-making process wasn’t anyone’s fault, rather, a reflection of what the learning community valued strongly at the time. Further, and even though I couldn’t draw, paint or dance, the arts – particularly when putting pen to paper, was where I found rhythm. But it wasn’t valued as strongly as pure maths, physical science or accounting, so those perceived lesser pursuits were not chosen. I was wrong.

To succeed, full commitment to learning to achieve the necessary marks, which would ensure an education beyond Launceston College, was needed. Discipline and companionship were saviours, with mum sitting by my side each evening as I studied. She couldn’t help with content, but ensured I was focussed, diligent, and furnished with endless pots of “stewed” Robur tea.

Gradually, learning became easier and the more investment in topics that engaged and motivated, the more I found achievement a consequence of learning, rather than an unachievable goal. And that’s not to say I only studied subjects I cared about. Rather, the confidence from developing learning habits via topics of interest taught strategies, which flowed through to tasks I found mundane.

How or why I clicked as a learner, is far too difficult to measure, but it involved support, routine, discipline, determination, and ultimately, confidence. I’m a better student today than ever. May this trend continue. 

For parents and guardians who resonate with my words – hang in there! You just never know when individuals will be ready to learn and be motivated by feelings of pride in their achievements. Patience is a key requirement, along with consistency – no matter how hard or how long it takes. 

I was fortunate. My learning journey has been filled with kindness and support. It was recognised early that appealing to a desire to achieve through avoiding disappointment was a far stronger carrot than anger and frustration employed as a stick.

No matter our age, we should never cease a desire to learn. Nor our encouragement of others to do the same.

And now back to my 10,000 steps … and potentially a new idea for a column, because I’m desperate to receive mum’s feedback, yet again.