I had only been to the restaurant twice, so we both had a few questions about the menu. After looking through the appetizers and the entrees, we perused the drinks.
“What’s a Grand Marinara,” I asked. (Well, that’s how I pronounced it)
“You mean a Grand Marnier?” my friend responded.
The waitress laughed. In fact we all laughed. I had never seen that word before and on that night, in addition to trying a new type of sushi, I learned something new.
It reminded me of Mrs. Simpson’s 8th grade language arts class. I was in an organization called Forensics, a speech and debate team. Mrs. Simpson gave me the opportunity to practice my speech in front of the class as we had a countywide competition coming up and I was scheduled to participate.
I performed a scene with Scarlett and Prissy from the classic book, Gone With the Wind. There was nothing funny about that scene. Yet every now and then, my classmates would chuckle. Okay, I had been performing enough at this point that I knew how to maintain my composure and not get distracted. So, I kept going.
The chuckles continued. I did get a little self conscious. Maybe something was hanging out of my nose. Perhaps my zipper was down. Or, my hair. Something was up with my hair.
It was none of the above. Actually, in the excerpt I performed I talked about meeting someone at the d. pot. (That’s how I said it.) When my speech was over, I learned it was the train depot.
It was embarrassing. In fact, many of my classmates who signed my yearbook at the end of the year still referenced that performance. Even Mrs. Simpson signed my yearbook, stating how well I performed that day.
Fast forward more than a decade later, and I found myself in a similar situation in the restaurant that night. But I wasn’t embarrassed at all. What’s changed since 8th grade?
I understand the concept of learning while you earn. As long as I am serving and contributing to the world, I will be learning new things. I didn’t always feel this way though. There was a time that when I graduated from college I thought that was it. No more tests. No more learning. And I operated from that close minded perspective for a long time too. It was a costly stance to have.
I have heard it said that the “day you stop learning is the day you stop living.” It took a while, but I finally made the choice to be open to learning, not just a new word at a restaurant, but investing in classes and training on a regular basis. For me, I have had a high return on that investment.
Are you committed to being a lifelong learner?
