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Great Teachers Don’t Always Care
How an unfriendly stranger taught me to surf
Teaching someone how to do something is one of the most important, most difficult, and most human tasks we perform. We often take it for granted, indicated by how we compensate the people we actually call teachers, but teaching is a foundation of civilization. When I was learning to surf, I had a bad teacher and a good one. The first one liked me and wanted me to learn and the second didn’t give a damn, and he made all the difference.
A common misconception about the art of imparting knowledge is that good instructors care about their students. The stranger who taught me to surf harbored a noticeable amount of contempt for me. Who could blame him really? I was a doughy, 28-year old man — pale as death, slathered in sun cream, hopelessly inept, and woefully out of shape.
At best I was an obstacle to paddle around and at worst I was a topwater lure attracting hungry sharks with my flailing.
From horses to surfboards
I was born and raised on the landlocked, dusty plains of West Texas where the only body of water was a local pond, which was really just an over-sized puddle. However, in 1991 I went to the movie theater and saw Point Break and was convinced one day I would be a surfer. A long, winding…
