Unconventional Means of Learning- "Bowls of Knowledge"

Chapter 18 (still in the kitchen)


Holding the salt shaker up to the light, J.P. examined the glass for finger prints. "I think I'm getting the lesson here," J.P.'s tone sounded weak. "Does it bother either of you if the salt shaker is covered in greasy finger prints when you sit down at a restaurant?"
It appeared J.P. was struggling, momentarily, to apply his filming knowledge to the work at hand. Simmy, undaunted, asked, "... probably as much as a finger print on a camera lens would bother you."
That comment catapulted J.P. back into the conversation with a flash of connective understanding.
"Where did you say you were educated, Simmy?" Again, a small chuckle emitted from the petite blonde, followed by, "Educated? Well, I wasn't educated, per se. I paid for the privilege of learning in a higher education programme that was written, originally, by an interior designer who resided in England."
"If you studied in England, then when did you come to Canada?" J.P. looked confused.
"Oh dear, this is getting confusing. Let me try again! I applied to a distance education (unconventional means of learning) diploma course that was written in England, but I had the option of sending my tests to either the U.K. or the U.S.of A. Those two super powers had a hand-holding relationship in this little experimental endeavor."
J.P. looked a little nonplussed. "So, which country do you consider yourself educated in?"
"Ha,ha, ha, I have never had that question posed to me! I don't think I can answer that! I can tell you that, as Canadians we're still connected to the Crown. I did find most of the study material in the public library."
"So... your classroom was???" J.P. queried with raised eyebrows.
Sam spoke up suddenly as the dishwasher burst a steam cloud into the air, "I would say that her classroom was, first, the 'hands-on' construction projects that Simmy and I did together for fifteen years before she even applied for any formal education. Then, when she did proceed to get some accreditation, she already had a solid foundation of experiential knowledge."
"Which," Simmy jumped in, "is the learning map that Thomas diagrams in his book. Because learning is individual, influenced by other people, a response to stimuli, lifelong, irreversible (you can't 'unknow' something),... it takes t...i...m...e," Simmy groaned out the word. "You also cannot coerce learning, J.P. Take this little kitchen scene we're all in today. Were you forced to make breakfast for everyone?"
"Oh no, I volunteered, believe me." J.P.'s face expressed a getting-myself-out-of-a-pinch misery. "One little offhand comment to my actresses got me quick retribution so I wanted to prove to them that I wasn't a high brow snob who couldn't do anything except rap out orders." Suddenly, J.P. had another insightful flash and he spoke with a grunt of chagrin, "I really want to thank you two for rescuing me. It appears that my wanting to teach them a lesson, provided me with the opportunity to be the student, again. I wanted to earn their respect so the film would have the best opportunity for success. I really want to make my parents proud, even at my age," J.P. confessed, somewhat surprised by his own words.
"This kitchen has served up an unconventional means of learning today. Hasn't it, Sam? J.P., here's one more tidbit of wooden spoon knowledge for you. You can use it in your film, if you wish. My mother had a grade school education and I've learned one of my biggest lessons from her," Simmy offered.
J.P. paused and waited, knowing this cypher was about to enter his script.
Simmy continued, "Every Christmas all the women would get a beautiful bowl or serving spoon. Oh, how we oohed and ahhed as we admired the beauty of our gifts. One day I suddenly realized... bowls, spoons, ohhh... serving tools. My Mother had been preaching with her gifts for years. We just didn't figure it out, she had such good taste in her delivery."
"What did the men receive?" J.P. suddenly wondered.
"Construction tools," Simmy grinned.
"Would the two of you like to join our cast/crew dinner tonight? I insist that you accept my dinner invitation," he spoke with his more normal authority.
"We'd be delighted! Right, Sam?"