Story 9 The curve
My first job in the public system was at Alhambra High School. A teacher had left but a few weeks before school opened, so I was the needed quick hire to a prime position; one prep. Although it was listed as Health and Safety, it was better known for its units of sex ed, drug ed and driver’s ed. Since Driver’s Ed was the last section, students needed the class so behavior was nary a problem. I couldn’t want for a better teaching situation…… so, I thought.
With sex education early on, my pre-med classes kicked in and I went through the physiology full throttle and finished my presentation in a day and a half. Now, with 13 and one half days to go, I asked: “Now, are there any questions?” Absolute silence! Panic began to creep in as I had no idea where to go next. My “surely someone has a question” was met with eyes roaming about the ceiling; the walls; anywhere other than to meet mine.
Now, I don’t know who’s out there looking out for me, but they sure came through again as I finally said: “Okay, if you wish to pass this class, you will all write a question, anonymous if you wish, and put in a covered trash can that became our “Question Box”.
The next morning, I pulled out the first question; and, I’ll not forget how it began: “Mr. Bidwell, will you please tell the boys…..” something to do the menstrual cycle affecting mood. Good Grief, even I was unaware of what was said. Then, suddenly, all kinds of hands went up and we began to talk; rap, as it is known nowadays. Not only did that question box carry me through the next thirteen days, it was so popular that we held each Friday as the Question Box Day. I was a bit overwhelmed at their need to talk about such issues; that, and I’m sure I learned far more than they did.
I recall someone asking me about lowering myself to their level, curious about the gutter talk. My response was with a smile: “You know, come to think of it, there’s a lot more dignity with the youngsters than with most adult conversations I hear on the subject.
Yep, I couldn’t want for better teaching conditions, but that’s when I became acquainted with the beginning of my end. When it came time for mid-term grades, I found myself giving out A after A after A. The students felt good about what they were learning and I felt pretty dang good about being a part of it. Then, shortly after, my classroom door flew open after school and the department chairman, a math teacher in his late fifties(?), came bursting in with a handful of graphs, shoving them into my face and actually shouting: “What do you see? What do you see?”
Collecting myself, my experiences in a statistics class I took while working at the U.C.L.A. doing medical research and wanting to understand the conclusions were drawn from the data I had been collecting kicked in. Yep, it soon became obvious’ and I said: “it appears to be a composite of grades of the teachers in this department”….to which he began to wail: “You skewed my curve. You skewed my curve!” It was all I could do to keep from laughing as I first thought he said “screwed,” although I guess both words would have fit. Yep, all those “A”s I gave kinda shifted the bell curve to the right; towards the higher grades. I was at a loss for words as he seemed to be judging learning as to how it fit a perfect Bell Shaped Curve. Little did I know, though, he would have a lot to say about my future in Alhambra.
More on this mentally messed up department chairmen along with many great memories at Alhambra will follow.
Wishing you well,
LarryBme2@aol.com
P.S. Probably an even bigger thing I learned out of that statistics class is that the professor was writing a book: How to Lie with Statistics. Although I thought it merely funny at the time, it all came crashing home with what I’ve seen in the Media these politically messed up days.