I've reproduced this from an email from Robert Ringer (on his mailing list) and it makes interesting reading on how continually pushing in the right direction will get you there.
Its from a reader called Pat, with RR's comments at the bottom:
Talk about a tough time growing up ... I know a lot of adults who relate to the experiences of being bullied in school. That includes from first grade to
commencement. I was always small. I didn't weigh 100 pounds until I turned 17. My dad was a laborer. We didn't have a car. From age 12 until I left the little town I lived in, I worked after school every day and every weekend. My teeth were poor. My clothes were from garage sales. Never had a date.
Never went to anyone's birthday party. Didn't even know how to dance. Sat by myself at school ball games. (I got in free because I would clean up the bleachers after the games.) No one walked to or from school with me. The jocks referred to me as "Cauliflower Face" because of my prominent ears and
bad facial condition. I don't think I ever had a one minute conversation with a girl in any circumstance in school or out of school. The coaches didn't even
put me on any of the teams for organized athletics classes. I don't have any
pictures of myself except for the few school pictures that were taken. We didn't have a camera. When I hitchhiked out of the little town that I grew up in, I had all my possessions in an old backpack and a cardboard suitcase. I had $15. Went to Chicago and got a job as a clerk in a steel mill on the South Side.
Lived in a sleeping room, ate at a hot dog stand, rode a bus, roamed around in museums and downtown streets, and sent all the money I could to my younger brothers and sisters. I was the last man hired and I had no family, so I got all night shifts and weekends and holidays. Oh, but I was big
enough and strong enough to get drafted during the Korean Conflict. I had basic training and some classes that didn't amount to anything useful, and then went overseas. Spent a lot of time sleeping on the ground in snow and freezing rain. We had alcoholic sergeants and really, really stupid officers who didn't have a clue about what our unit was supposed to be doing. Got
both my legs and one arm badly broken. Got out of the military. No jobs back in my home town. Decided to enroll in some business courses at a big university. Liked the atmosphere. Worked in the dining halls. Ate meals
with normal, happy, smart guys and girls. Got my teeth straightened. Took technique of wrestling and social dancing as my two physical education courses. (The joke was that "The classes are the same except some of the
holds are barred in wrestling.) Always had a classmate or dorm mate to walk to class with. Went to all the record hops and took more lessons there. Got good clothes and had some spending money for movies and burgers and ball games with groups of co-workers, both male and female. Got super jobs during the summers and helped out my siblings. Got a degree from The Big University. Got a wonderful job. Met and married a wonderful woman. House ... cars ... kids ... vacations to Europe and South America and just about every big park in the U.S. Paid for college expenses for all my younger brothers and sisters. A nice allowance for my parents and my wife's parents. All my kids got two college degrees. I've been an officer in several
important organizations. I'm a true millionaire. Everyone connected to my
family is in excellent health. I've gone to all the reunions of my high school class. Nothing like having a new Lexus and a thousand dollar suit and a Rolex and a smooth tropical tan that all the classmates can notice. I had memorized the names of all the classmates and their wives so that I could chit-chat. Some of the classmates knew of my travels and business successes and had spread the word to others. The moral is: It is possible
to move on from a bleak background. I never got a Christmas card from anyone until I was in college. Last year we got big piles of cards and letters from neighbors, distant relatives, club members, co-workers, old college chums, church members, and many other good friends and acquaintances. My wife and kids and I are aware of what true friendship is.
We help others. We are secure. We are happy. We are optimistic. The bullying and psychological mistreatment and harsh conditions of the early years are not forgotten, but those things are all far behind me now. - Pat
RR note: Yours is a real-life Horatio Alger story, and my hat is off to you for your remarkable accomplishments. Your rise from a seemingly hopeless situation to a lifetime of admirable achievements should be an inspiration to all
readers. Unfortunately, many people who are confined to the Nondescript Ring or Outcast Ring during their high school years do not have the genetic makeup to rise above it after graduation. As a result, they are marred
for life. The only thing I would have done differently than you is that I would not have gone to those class reunions. Personally, I had no desire to
rub it in anyone's face, but, hey, you're entitled to a bit of ego satisfaction
after all you went though.
Its from a reader called Pat, with RR's comments at the bottom:
Talk about a tough time growing up ... I know a lot of adults who relate to the experiences of being bullied in school. That includes from first grade to
commencement. I was always small. I didn't weigh 100 pounds until I turned 17. My dad was a laborer. We didn't have a car. From age 12 until I left the little town I lived in, I worked after school every day and every weekend. My teeth were poor. My clothes were from garage sales. Never had a date.
Never went to anyone's birthday party. Didn't even know how to dance. Sat by myself at school ball games. (I got in free because I would clean up the bleachers after the games.) No one walked to or from school with me. The jocks referred to me as "Cauliflower Face" because of my prominent ears and
bad facial condition. I don't think I ever had a one minute conversation with a girl in any circumstance in school or out of school. The coaches didn't even
put me on any of the teams for organized athletics classes. I don't have any
pictures of myself except for the few school pictures that were taken. We didn't have a camera. When I hitchhiked out of the little town that I grew up in, I had all my possessions in an old backpack and a cardboard suitcase. I had $15. Went to Chicago and got a job as a clerk in a steel mill on the South Side.
Lived in a sleeping room, ate at a hot dog stand, rode a bus, roamed around in museums and downtown streets, and sent all the money I could to my younger brothers and sisters. I was the last man hired and I had no family, so I got all night shifts and weekends and holidays. Oh, but I was big
enough and strong enough to get drafted during the Korean Conflict. I had basic training and some classes that didn't amount to anything useful, and then went overseas. Spent a lot of time sleeping on the ground in snow and freezing rain. We had alcoholic sergeants and really, really stupid officers who didn't have a clue about what our unit was supposed to be doing. Got
both my legs and one arm badly broken. Got out of the military. No jobs back in my home town. Decided to enroll in some business courses at a big university. Liked the atmosphere. Worked in the dining halls. Ate meals
with normal, happy, smart guys and girls. Got my teeth straightened. Took technique of wrestling and social dancing as my two physical education courses. (The joke was that "The classes are the same except some of the
holds are barred in wrestling.) Always had a classmate or dorm mate to walk to class with. Went to all the record hops and took more lessons there. Got good clothes and had some spending money for movies and burgers and ball games with groups of co-workers, both male and female. Got super jobs during the summers and helped out my siblings. Got a degree from The Big University. Got a wonderful job. Met and married a wonderful woman. House ... cars ... kids ... vacations to Europe and South America and just about every big park in the U.S. Paid for college expenses for all my younger brothers and sisters. A nice allowance for my parents and my wife's parents. All my kids got two college degrees. I've been an officer in several
important organizations. I'm a true millionaire. Everyone connected to my
family is in excellent health. I've gone to all the reunions of my high school class. Nothing like having a new Lexus and a thousand dollar suit and a Rolex and a smooth tropical tan that all the classmates can notice. I had memorized the names of all the classmates and their wives so that I could chit-chat. Some of the classmates knew of my travels and business successes and had spread the word to others. The moral is: It is possible
to move on from a bleak background. I never got a Christmas card from anyone until I was in college. Last year we got big piles of cards and letters from neighbors, distant relatives, club members, co-workers, old college chums, church members, and many other good friends and acquaintances. My wife and kids and I are aware of what true friendship is.
We help others. We are secure. We are happy. We are optimistic. The bullying and psychological mistreatment and harsh conditions of the early years are not forgotten, but those things are all far behind me now. - Pat
RR note: Yours is a real-life Horatio Alger story, and my hat is off to you for your remarkable accomplishments. Your rise from a seemingly hopeless situation to a lifetime of admirable achievements should be an inspiration to all
readers. Unfortunately, many people who are confined to the Nondescript Ring or Outcast Ring during their high school years do not have the genetic makeup to rise above it after graduation. As a result, they are marred
for life. The only thing I would have done differently than you is that I would not have gone to those class reunions. Personally, I had no desire to
rub it in anyone's face, but, hey, you're entitled to a bit of ego satisfaction
after all you went though.
