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David Spates I need to go back to high school Maybe I could get back my old locker. Perhaps
they'll even let me have my old parking pass. I just hope the
other kids won't make fun of me. Normally, I wouldn't worry about such things,
but it seems as though I need to go back to high school. I've
forgotten too much of what I've learned, and that bothers me.
It makes me wonder what other bits of useful information I've
let slip through the old gray matter over the years. I read a news story over the weekend about
the Gateway tests, which, starting with this year's freshmen,
will be required for high school graduation. The story included
four sample questions the likes of which will be on the test.
It's those four questions which have me wondering whether I should
try to schedule my algebra class for first thing in the morning,
the middle of the day or save it until the last period. Without tooting my own cerebral horn too much,
it was actually just one of the four questions that really sparked
my concern -- nothing more than a simple algebra equation, the
same kind I had solved ad nauseam during my stint at Farragut
High School during the mid- to late-1980s. I cruised through the first three questions
rather handily, I must say. First, two biology questions. One
was a question about what would happen to some lazy cuckoos who
didn't bother to get off their feathery duffs to build nests
for their young. The other biology question focused on the greenhouse
effect and how we could, theoretically, say adios to polar ice
caps and hello to seaside real estate in downtown Chattanooga.
I answered both questions correctly and was feeling pretty good
about myself. Next were the two algebra questions. I was
a good high school math student, so I thought I'd ace all four
questions and go about the rest of my day with little to no thought
about who I'd be asking to the prom. The first question I ripped
through like Pavarotti at a pasta buffet. I thought I'd do the
same with the second -- Luciano with a fresh plate and a heap
of fettuccine alfredo under the warming lamp. Initial thought: no problem. Only one variable.
Ninth-grade stuff at the latest. And then it hit me. I didn't know what to
do to solve the problem. How could I do something with ease 15
years ago and now have such trouble? I'm no Stephen Hawking,
but I know how to solve a simple algebraic equation. Correction. I KNEW how to solve a simple algebraic
equation. I don't know how to do that anymore, and that's what's
got me annoyed. I don't like to lose things, whether it be my
car keys, my eyeglasses, my hair or my knowledge of basic algebra. Where had this knowledge gone? Granted, I
had not attempted to solve an algebra problem since, well, high
school probably. It simply did not come up very often in a newsroom,
and it comes up even less when you're taking care of a 4-month-old
baby. Very seldom does a newspaper's front page necessitate finding
the correct value for x, and Anna hardly ever asks me to help
with her algebra work. Use it or lose it. That's what it comes down
to. Our brains are like muscles. If they don't get regular exercise,
they become weaker and less useful. While some aspects of my
mental prowess have been enhanced since high school, there are
certain others, such as algebra, that have fallen away into nothingness. Hope springs eternal, however. I checked out
more example questions on the Department of Education's Web site,
and the more questions I looked at and attempted to solve, the
more I could feel the mathematical side of my brain kicking in.
Perhaps the knowledge is not really lost. Maybe it's just snoozing
and all it needs is a wakeup call. The same is true of the biology
questions. Many of the questions sparked a small glimmer of recognition,
as though I had once known the answer, but it remains buried
away along with other bits of information I don't use anymore. I wonder what else I've forgotten over the
years. I know, I know. It's an impossible question to answer.
It's like asking someone who misplaced his wallet, "Well,
where did you have it last?" If you knew that, you wouldn't
have the problem. There was a time when I could describe, in molecular detail, the process by which DNA replicates. That knowledge is long gone, but I may be able to get the notes from the kid who sits in the front row. I'll have to catch him after class. · · · |