it's a wonder I can think at all..."
Paul Simon, Kodachrome
than we ever learned in school..."
Bruce Springsteen, No Surrender
Yesterday I reminisced about elementary "education." Today, I promised to go back to high school. For me, high school was 9th, 10th, and 12th grades. I had the opportunity to graduate after three years instead of four, and having accidentally picked up some wisdom somewhere down the line, I leapt at the chance.
9th grade - I learned that my biology teacher wisely changed his name in the classroom from Mr. Ball to Mr. Osprey. I learned why they called Sister Cecelia, the "White Tornado." And I learned that the popular kids were still pretty much in charge, but that it was possible to find your group.
10th grade - I learned that, even though I had avoided Father Van by erasing the "Honors" after the English course my freshman teacher had insisted I sign up for, I could manage to find the meanest woman on the planet in a regular English class. I wanted to introduce her to my fifth grade nun, just to see the cage match.
12th grade - I learned that the nerdy types were my peeps. I learned how to speak competitively, and I met my future husband.
So, I guess high school provided at least one redeeming experience, none of it related to the curriculum.
Can you imagine how hard it was, when I taught, to answer the question, "Why do we need to know this?" Nine times out of ten, the true answer was, "You don't."
Maybe we should start asking the kids, "What do you think you'll NEED to know?" And go from there.
Diatribe over. For now.
Ed. Reading back over the 9th grade text, I recalled that Sister Cecelia was not the White Tornado. Actually, I don't think I ever knew a Sister Cecelia. I can't recall her actual name, except that it included Lillian, which is my middle name. You'd think that would make it easier. Apparently, my brain is simply making things up now. All of this may be a lie.
