Pay for a college education. Read a self-help book. Find a mentor. There are many ways that we look to others in an attempt to improve ourselves. However, I believe that sometimes we are our own best teachers. No, I’m not saying we have some innate ability to know how to do something without any instructions. Instead, we tend to be experts at screwing up really badly, and if we take the time to examine what we did wrong, we can learn not to repeat those mistakes in the future. One of those key moments for me was way back when I was attending elementary school, and it’s a lesson I never forgot. In 5th and 6th grade I participated in our school district’s gifted program, a program targeted at advanced students that gave them an opportunity for study beyond the regular classroom lessons. In my school system, gifted students were picked up from their local schools once a week and bused to a common campus where they chose various courses in subjects that interested them. Some of the topics I remember studying were the Olympics, the Oregon Trail and westward expansion, and chess. I don’t remember much about those days, but I do remember one special assembly. One of the offered classes that I didn’t take was film. As part of the class, each student had to write and produce a filmstrip. (For those of you who might not know, a filmstrip is similar to a movie, but the story is told through several still pictures that correspond with an audio track of narration and dialog.) Near the end of the semester, all the students were gathered together for a presentation of several of the class projects. The filmstrips that were shown were made by students that met on a different day of the week, so none of the little producer/directors were present at the showing. That turned out to be rather fortunate. This little film festival went along without a hitch and we were all entertained until the final strip was shown. All I remember about this strip is that it was a story that featured a crow… and that it wasn’t very good. I don’t remember exactly all the reasons it wasn’t good. In fact, the only thing I specifically remember is that the story referred to the crow as a “black” crow, but the crow on the screen was colored yellow. I can assure you, however, that the overall quality of this production left a lot to be desired by the reaction of several of my classmates who were very vocal about their opinions. Groans and moans and statement such as, “That was really bad!” filled the room. I remember saying, “Even I could do better than that!” Then the hammer dropped. The teacher turned on the light, promptly shushed the room and began to lecture us. She told us of the hard work the film students put into these projects and, since no one in the room had taken the class, what we saw was more than any of us did. Furthermore, she was very disappointed at our response, and actually shocked at one student who she thought “knew better.” That student was me. No, she didn’t call me out by name, but that didn’t matter. I knew right away that I was the intended target of that barb. You see, I was kind of a teacher’s pet in those days. I wasn’t the brown-nosing kind who brought the teacher apples and put on a sickeningly sweet facade whenever I felt I would be noticed. No, I was just a good student who did his work, didn’t cause any trouble, was helpful, and usually considerate of others. Of course the teacher was speaking about me. Even if she wasn’t, it didn’t really matter because, in my mind, she was scolding me personally. Needless to say, I felt ashamed. I’d like to say I apologized, but I didn’t. I just kept quiet, exited the room and took the bus back to my school. But I never forgot. It would be almost a dozen years later before I acknowledged God and His plan for my life, but I know now that back in that instance He was already teaching me important lessons about being considerate towards others and their feelings (Titus 3:2, Phil. 2:3-4, 1 Cor. 10:24). Ever since that day I have been more careful about what I say and how I say it. I don’t avoid criticism when it is warranted, but I do try to point out positives to balance the negatives, or be careful to - at least - not use harsh words or a hostile tone. I’ll admit, there are still many times I mess up. My loving wife is quick to point this out when she notices. The point, however, is that I am aware of this fault in me and because I’m aware I can try to do something about it. That is what I mean when I say we need only look to ourselves to learn some of the greatest lessons in life. I could tell you about several other times in my life, most of them rather embarrassing. Like that one New’s Year's Eve that involved a high school crush, a little too much champagne, a dead rose, an ill-conceived poem and a series of events that could have gotten me arrested for stalking. But that is another story for another day. Or possibly never. Now that I think about it, it’s something I’d really rather forget. Really.