I learned to my horror last fall, that I had to take a lab science in order to graduate with my interior design degree. I had had a meeting with my advisor (a woman who I have the utmost respect for) last October. We were going over my transcripts from my first round of college, when she saw my grade in anatomy. In a very understanding, motherly sort of way, she told me it was ok. Everyone goes a little crazy their freshman year. It dawned on me that she thought I got my bad grade because I was out partying. I wasn't. Ask my roommate. I studied for HOURS for that class. Daily. I was about to defend my work ethic, when I realized it might be better if she just thought I had been an irresponsible 18 year old instead of a complete idiot.
Science and I have never really gotten along. I have tried. Really, I have. I watch the Discovery Channel all the time. That counts, right? I always liked dissecting the frog in biology, I just couldn't tell you what was INSIDE of the frog on the test. It is some type of block I have. I even married a science guy in the hopes that some of it would rub off. It hasn't.
AJ - a third grader- has basically stopped asking me questions that involve any type of math or science. I think that after the third time I said: "Go ask your dad" he just assumed I thought the world was flat and didn't want to waste time talking to a luddite.
So, here I sit taking biology 20 years later. On the internet. I would write more, but I have to go catch a cricket in my back yard for my first lab.
No comments:
Post a Comment