Enter/Return

So when I was in high school, I was in I.B. It was this accelerated magnet program that offered somewhat more than most schools had in terms of AP classes. The program was also used to diversify student bodies and bring in more funding (ie- make the poor, black schools whiter and richer). Which was the case at Eastside, where I went. Many of the students I graduated with went on to Stanford, MIT, NYU, Yale, etc. Not this kid- I took an athletic scholarship to attend a small private university in North Florida. In your faces, smarties.

During our senior year, we had to take this colloqiuam called Theory of Knowledge or TOK. TOK was designed to offer us the experience of sampling, theoretically, all the different subjects of thought/learning by way of exposure to the "masters". For example: physics, math, biology, art, history, literature, music and so on. For some reason, we spent about 2 weeks on art and, like, 3 months on physics (much to my chagrin). This is where I first learned about the important Stephens of the world: Jay Gould and Hawking. Totally interesting stuff, right? Right.

So, ok. I did my best but I was way more interested in art, literature and music (which my grades wholly reflected.) I was not what you would call invested in my foundational education nor in the teachers that presented it. I always felt it was a fluke I was in I.B. at all, but in restrospect, I did all right given all the homework I didn't do. I was mostly excited about college and getting to study what I wanted to learn.

As a TOK project, we were given chapters to read in a book on the basic principles of physics with the assignment to present to the class an example and summary of the chapter we read. I don't remember what the book was called- all I remember was that I supposed to somehow demonstrate to the class that a sphere with a hole in it had the same surface area as a flat plane of the same general size. How the hell was I supposed to do that?

The only thing I could think of was to make a paper balloon, which I learned from my dad. When you fold up this origami "balloon" it has a hole you blow into for inflation purposes, but it comes from a piece of paper. Flat plane becomes a sphere (-ish shaped object) with a hole in it. Genius, right? I totally thought so.

My teacher's response? "Next."

I have to tell you, I don't hang onto much but this still makes me angry. In that moment- all my feelings about high school were summed up and expressed and what energy remained that was invested in my being an active learner and participant in my education was sucked out of me. This is a very 17 year old response. I know that.

But, Mrs. Brantley, if you're out there: you were a terrible teacher. And I hated the poems you wrote about Princess Diana's hands.