It was in 1950, and my father was thirteen years at the time. The teacher locked the boys in the wood-shop classroom on the second floor. They were supposed to do some sanding and later built a small wood chair. There was no way that my father was going to spend his energy on sanding. He jumped out of the window, the boys lowered the planks to him and he rode on his bike to a nearby shipyard. He used his pocket money to get his planks sanded in the big machines. I have been asked how this story is an example of authentic learning. The teacher failed making this task meaningful for his students. He did not even try. But my father found a way to make this meaningful and has ever since paid carpenters and craftsman for their services.

















