I remember in 6th grade learning the metric system ad nuseum. We were converting seconds to minutes, centimeters to meters, grams to kilograms, and so forth. When we inquired, why we had to learn "this stuff", we were basically told to learn for the sake of learning it. Back then, I was competitive and enjoyed having the teachers attention; thus, I learned what I needed to learn in order to pass with an A or B, preferably the former. By 8th grade, I mastered scientific notations (and could easily regurgitate the mass of the earth on a test for extra credit, of course). By junior year in high school, my male and female counterparts revered at my level of skill acquisition (read=memorization skills) of linear relationships, the quadratic formula, and inversions. And, of course, like most college-driven students, I knew I had to take and pass a trigonometry class in order to even qualify for college. Sin, cos, tan...are all a blur to me now. I just needed to know enough to do well on the ACT, to make the honor roll, or other selfish motives that were engrained in my psyche by the school system (my parents probably could care less).
To this day, I wish my early school teachers would have told me that I could use physics itself for self-pleasure and to help others enjoy life. This bit of info was not discovered until one year of a boring, dreadful physics class. Our teacher at the time, Dr. Smith, was also a University professor, at a large midwestern elite private institution. Over the course of the year, he somehow correlated our knowledge of physics (i.e. velocity, acceleration, motion, Newton's Law, etc.), with some of the most exciting roller coaster rides at Great America. Ironically enough, I had one of the highest grades in the class, and won a free day trip to the amusement park. Unfortunately, I tied with another student in the class, and lost the trip to a hat drawing. Therefore, I never actually attended the field trip to take advantage of the opportunity to apply classroom knowledge to everyday (or once a year) experiences.
Imagine if back in 6th grade, I was taught that I could use physics, the metric system, or algebra to predict how far the distance of a ball could travel (always loved softball); to become better a playing a musical instrument (never liked band, so at least I could have applied the concept dissonance); to study tornado (my son is fascinated with weather); or to communicate with dolphins at Sea World (they are so cute!). Also, if more kids today connected physics with everyday reality, we would not have so many adolescents losing their hearing to i-pods (i.e. Doppler effect).
The truth is, today I really cannot remember much of what was learned in those early math and science days. They were never viewed as important to me, as far as winning the 2 mile relay, pitching faster, escaping everyday sub/urban reality by traveling to amusement and theme parks. Then, the teachers were more concerned with techniques of memorization, attained through repitition and regurgitation, than with connecting science to the larger physical and social world. I have a physics major student, who might raise this question: Would I have been able to participate in or master beginning high school physics, if it was not for the early learning techniques? My response is utterly resounding, yes; for every year, I learned to relearn, or memorize again what was never mastered in the first place. I am willing to bet that most students stories are my story. The thought begs the questions: What is the purpose of teaching something if only a few are going to retain the skill and know how to apply it to the physical and social world, and how can we make it so that knowledge and skills are taught and received in a way that it is embraced by the majority and not just the few?
To this day, I wish my early school teachers would have told me that I could use physics itself for self-pleasure and to help others enjoy life. This bit of info was not discovered until one year of a boring, dreadful physics class. Our teacher at the time, Dr. Smith, was also a University professor, at a large midwestern elite private institution. Over the course of the year, he somehow correlated our knowledge of physics (i.e. velocity, acceleration, motion, Newton's Law, etc.), with some of the most exciting roller coaster rides at Great America. Ironically enough, I had one of the highest grades in the class, and won a free day trip to the amusement park. Unfortunately, I tied with another student in the class, and lost the trip to a hat drawing. Therefore, I never actually attended the field trip to take advantage of the opportunity to apply classroom knowledge to everyday (or once a year) experiences.
Imagine if back in 6th grade, I was taught that I could use physics, the metric system, or algebra to predict how far the distance of a ball could travel (always loved softball); to become better a playing a musical instrument (never liked band, so at least I could have applied the concept dissonance); to study tornado (my son is fascinated with weather); or to communicate with dolphins at Sea World (they are so cute!). Also, if more kids today connected physics with everyday reality, we would not have so many adolescents losing their hearing to i-pods (i.e. Doppler effect).
The truth is, today I really cannot remember much of what was learned in those early math and science days. They were never viewed as important to me, as far as winning the 2 mile relay, pitching faster, escaping everyday sub/urban reality by traveling to amusement and theme parks. Then, the teachers were more concerned with techniques of memorization, attained through repitition and regurgitation, than with connecting science to the larger physical and social world. I have a physics major student, who might raise this question: Would I have been able to participate in or master beginning high school physics, if it was not for the early learning techniques? My response is utterly resounding, yes; for every year, I learned to relearn, or memorize again what was never mastered in the first place. I am willing to bet that most students stories are my story. The thought begs the questions: What is the purpose of teaching something if only a few are going to retain the skill and know how to apply it to the physical and social world, and how can we make it so that knowledge and skills are taught and received in a way that it is embraced by the majority and not just the few?
