September 8, 1999
DOWN HOME:
Talk about a time warp:
Walk down school halls
___We've gone back to school lately. Not the schools Joanna and I attended in our youth, of course. We visited Molly's middle school and Lindsay's high school. Talk about a time warp.
___To begin with, we didn't even have "middle" school when we were kids. We went tojunior high. The buildings still smell the same --sort of a combination of sweat socks, band instruments, floor wax and green beans. But things have changed.
MARV KNOX
Editor
___Like the teachers, for example. When I was in junior high, teachers were about 83 years old. Now, they mostly look like college kids impersonating teachers. Maybe today's teachers are the same age as mine were then, but my eyes are a lot older now.
___Molly's teachers all talked about something called "re-testing," which is new. If a kid makes below a 70, said kid can take the test again. Back when we wrote our lessons with charcoal on tree bark, we got the grade we made. Who says the world is a harder place than it used to be?
___Lindsay's school also uses a "block schedule." That means students only take four courses per semester. But they're in each class for about an hour and a half, and they complete a year of work in each subject in one semester.
___Back in the olden days, "block schedule" had to do with when the guys in wood shop got to use the band saw. We took about eight classes or so, and if you weren't careful, you could get confused and hand your civics homework in to your English teacher, which, depending on whether or not you did your homework while watching "Monday Night Football" (at least some things don't change), might or might not make any difference.
___Teachers today also seem to think tardiness is a big deal. Almost every one emphasized the tardy policy. In our day, the penalty for being tardy was a withering scowl. In the wake of recent tragedy, I assume, scrupulous maintenance of the tardy policy has more to do with concern for school security than sharpening slackers. What a sad commentary on change.
___My time-warp confusion climaxed in Lindsay's Algebra II class. Her teacher showed us a graphing calculator and discussed "system analysis" and "irregular integers" or something like that.
___Twenty-six years ago, I sat in a similar room and whipped out algebraic equations like popcorn. But last week, I felt as if my child's teacher were speaking Mandarin Chinese from the bottom of a well. I no longer can tell a logarithm from a log jam.
___So much for memory. I've forgotten much more algebra--and several other subjects--than I possibly can recall.
___But when life's ultimate test comes, I'm glad I will depend upon the holy memory of the Master Teacher who knows me by name. And will not forget.
Contents/ Masthead / Why We're Here / Links / Archive / E-mail us/ SUBSCRIBE!
