The First Class Didn’t Go as Planned

Yesterday, October 20, was the first class of this ACE term.

I had prepared, planned, and practiced as well as I could. I’ve learned that proper preparation relieves a lot of my nervousness. But as the clock moved closer to 12:30 p.m., my anxiety started to grow.

I ate lunch as quickly as I could and headed toward Education.

Earlier that morning, the compound never had its scheduled 9:00 a.m. move. That mattered because I had planned to use that time to get familiar with the overhead projector, make sure the materials I requested had been copied, and get in one final practice run of my presentation.

None of that happened.

I’m used to things not going as scheduled here, so I try to always have a backup plan. I don’t have any control over how they run their facility, but I can control myself and what I do.

So I found a corner near a window and practiced my material out loud to myself. I’m certain the people around me thought I was strange.

I didn’t care.

This was important, and my ability to get my message across to these guys was paramount.

In my view, having a high financial IQ is one of the most important factors in a person’s life. In today’s world, money touches almost every other part of our lives.

I’m not under any illusion that my class alone will teach these men everything they need to know about building wealth or creating financial freedom. But maybe it can be the spark that gets somebody interested enough to keep learning.

Sometimes a spark is enough.

Then Everything Changed

I arrived at the Education building about 30 minutes before class was scheduled to start.

The doors were locked.

About 20 minutes later, an officer came along and told everyone to clear the compound and return to our housing units. He said Education would be closed for the rest of the day.

I wasn’t happy.

By the time I made it back to the unit, though, I had decided to accept what I couldn’t control. Part of me still wondered whether the officer had been misinformed or whether somebody had made a mistake. That happens around here. Maybe too many chiefs.

A few of the guys asked me what was going on. Of course, I didn’t know any more than they did.

I went upstairs, changed out of my uniform and boots, and finally allowed myself to unwind. The anxiety that had been building around teaching the first class began to release.

About 35 minutes later, I had settled into a game of Shattered Pixel Dungeon—a run I had been trying to work my way through for days—when the P.A. system suddenly called an Education move.

I stared in disbelief.

“I’m not going. It’s too late,” I argued with myself.

Then I shook my head, stood up, and took a deep breath.

I had a responsibility.

Showing Up Anyway

I knew that after the delay—and after an officer had already told everyone that Education was closed—many students might not show up.

Maybe nobody would.

But I would be there.

I had decided that I was going to hold class even if I was the only person in the room.

I got dressed as fast as I could, grabbed my course materials, and ran across the compound. I had about 10 minutes to make a five-minute walk, except I had already burned several of those minutes convincing myself to go, getting dressed, and running down three flights of stairs.

Somehow, I made it just as the officer was locking the door to the Education unit.

My classroom was on the first floor—thank God—Room 124.

Then came the surprise.

Almost everybody was there.

About 17 of the 20 students had made it.

I entered the room flustered, slightly out of breath, and beginning to sweat.

“Hello, gentlemen. I’ll be your instructor for Building a Wealth Mindset,” I said, trying to sound more ready than I felt.

At the same time, I took a quick inventory of the room.

No projector.

No printed materials for the financial demonstration I had planned as an icebreaker.

No pre-test that I had intended to use partly to get the students thinking—and partly to give myself a moment to catch my breath and collect my thoughts.

So much for the plan.

What Actually Mattered

Despite the awful start, the missing equipment and materials, and having to squeeze a 90-minute presentation into about 45 minutes, the class went very well.

I was still able to do my “Who Would You Rather Be?” investment demonstration. I had to improvise, but it accomplished what I wanted it to accomplish.

Everyone got involved.

They looked comfortable. They had fun. They asked questions. Most importantly, they seemed genuinely interested.

That matters to me because my goal as an instructor is to be both educational and entertaining.

I don’t think people learn very much when they are bored out of their minds—or sleeping.

The first class also reminded me of something I already knew but sometimes forget:

Preparation is not about making sure everything goes according to plan. Preparation is what gives you something to fall back on when the plan falls apart.

The projector didn’t make the class successful.

The handouts didn’t make the class successful.

Even the extra practice session I wanted that morning wasn’t what made the class successful.

What mattered was that I knew the material, cared about the message, showed up, and adapted.

I really like the group we have. They show real potential, and I’m excited to see how they respond to the rest of the course.

One down.

Eleven to go.

Xavier Lee of Elkton, MD

“Mizz Debbie’s Boy”