Why I Love School...

Well, there are a million reasons really, but today I experienced the big one. Kinda the raison d'etre, if I'm using the phrase correctly.

It happened in calculus class. Seriously. That class I've been freaking out over for the last few weeks. The one that moves at the speed of light and covers a vast amount of material, all of which is cumulative? Yup...that one.

I was frantically taking notes as my professor was explaining Riemann sums. When I looked up, I saw that he had drawn a line on a graph, under which he'd drawn multiple rectangles. It looked like this:

He mentioned that the sum of the areas of each of the rectangles under the curve would give you the area under the curve, minus, of course, the parts under the curve not included in the rectangles. And the he said, "if we used more rectangles, the sum of the areas would be closer to the actual area under the curve." So here's where my day-maker moment happened: I thought, wouldn't that mean that when the number of rectangles under the curve approaches infinity, that the sum of them would approach the actual area under the curve?

BINGO! Wouldn't you know, that's exactly where he was going with the lesson. Now, I know this isn't news to most people. But it was damn exciting to be guided like that through the learning process, instead of feeling dragged; to arrive at a conclusion without needing to be told what conclusion I should be arriving at.

It's times like those when I feel most confident in myself...when I feel capable of understanding all of the things that I always thought were out of my reach. It's times like those that remind me of how important it is to have teachers...ones who know how to set the stage for thought and encourage it.

Calcumility?

As I walk into the classroom, the first pang of fear hits me. What if this isn't my class? I head to the front row, eyes fixed to the floor, avoiding any contact with the other men and women in the room. The seats are all taken. The front row is never full on the first day of class...

I sit in the middle of the room.

Eventually, fear overtakes my ego and I whisper to the boy next to me, "hey...is this Math 95?"

He nods yes and returns to his novel...something smart and wordy. I notice that he's already bought the textbook. He's also got out a pencil and paper. He's ready for class.

The professor is an older man and he looks like a cross between a cowboy and a sage. His face is wise and mysteriously cloaked behind a heavy, dark beard. His Lee jeans and brown leather belt fit loosely over his lower half. He looks at his watch...at the clock...at the class...back at his watch.

I understand what he says for the first few minutes of class. I'm familiar with the syllabus; I've already printed myself a copy. I can navigate the ins and outs of introductions and expectations like a champ. I'm a good student.

When the lesson starts, I lose any shred confidence. All I hear is "the delta delta epsilon in delta epsilon delta. Delta delta delta epsilon." What the hell is delta? What the hell is epsilon? What if this is how I feel all semester?

Semester Wrap-up...

So all the grades are in and it was an AWESOME semester.

Here're the final grades:

Chemistry final exam: 97%
Chemistry final grade: A

Calculus final exam: 101%
Calculus final grade: A+

My GPA was a 2.0 at the start of the semester...this was due completely to a semester in 2001 in which I did nothing but drink, smoke pot and skip class. Now, after these two classes, it's a 2.71. If I get all A's next semester, I'll have a 3.08.

Then, if I take Geography over again (one of those classes from that first crappy semester) and get an A, I'll have a 3.40. I think I'm going to do that...I just hate that I've got that scar on my transcript. Bad choices...bad consequences.

J: Humor and Math

Me: "Ugh! I hate calculus. It doesn't make any sense."

J: "Maybe it's because you're using letters instead of numbers."

The stoners win again...

I have a test-tacular* month approaching. It starts tonight with my second chem exam, resumes next week with my first calculus exam and ends in November with my 4th kyu Aikido test. I was most nervous about my calc exam because it constitutes 1/3 of my grade, but then I received an email from my professor that contained this:

"I was frightened by how the "in-class group quiz" went last night. I want to encourage you all to devote a significant amount of time to preparing for this exam. If you have only been doing the "hand-in" assignments and not doing the homework problems assigned from each section this is NOT enough. I highly recommend that you take the time to go back and do these problems. They are listed on the course website."

UGH! The in-class group quiz wasn't a quiz. Basically, Professor Calc handed out last year's test and asked us to do five of the problems before leaving class. She wrote the answers to the problems on the board, so we just had to show all our work to get credit. The five problems would constitute a quiz grade.

Before the class took the in-class group "quiz," we took a 15-minute break. It was obvious that, during the break, Annoying Geology Guy, I Don't Get It Dude and I Hate School Dude got stoned. How do I know? Maybe it was the skunky marijuana smell that filled the room after they came back in. Or, perhaps it was their dilated, bloodshot, glazed-over eyes. They were the people that had a hard time with the quiz...and let everyone know with their loud sighs of frustration. It's no wonder the quiz was difficult for them...

In the end of her email, Professor Calc let us know that we could use a 3X5 note card for the exam, which she was completely opposed to before the in-class quiz catastrophe. I wish that she would let each and every one of those guys just fail. After all, it's their lack of effort, not her teaching, that's screwed them.

*Yes, I am aware that this sounds like "testicular."

Adventures of Dimetrodon #2

Last night, after a full day of work and school, I was about ready to give up on my calculus class; the sun was getting low, my eyes burned from eight hours of computer exposure and the realization that I would not have any free time for another three days was dawning on me. I don't skip class, well...not anymore, but I wondered how I could possibly make it through another night without a few moments of relaxation. Nothing seemed to brighten my mood...until this arrived in my inbox:



Just knowing that I wasn't the only one struggling to find her place in this world was enough to keep me going. I went to class and at the end, took a few moments atop the hill to sleepily take in the view of the lake and consider where my courses might take me next.