THE POOR SCHOLAR'S SOLILOQUY
by Stephan M. Cory, University of Chicago
January 1944 from "Childhood Education"
No, I'm not very good in school.
This is my second year in the seventh grade, and I'm
bigger and taller than the other kids. They like me
all right, though, even if I don't say much in the
classroom, because outside I can tell them how to
do a lot of things. They tag me around and that sort
of makes up for what goes on in school.
I don't know why the teachers don't
like me. They never have very much. Seems like they
don't think you know anything unless you can name
the books it comes out of. I've got a lot of books
in my room at home-books like Popular Science Mechanical
Encyclopedia, and the Sears & Wards catalogues--but
I don't sit down and read them like they make us do
in school. I use my books when I want to find something
out, like whenever mom buys anything second-hand I
look it up in Sears or Wards first and tell her if
she's getting stung or not. I can use the index in
a hurry.
In school, though, we've got to
learn whatever is in the book and I just can't memorize
the stuff. Last year I stayed after school every night
for two weeks trying to learn the names of the presidents.
Of course, I knew some of them--like Washington and
Jefferson and Lincoln, but there must have been thirty
altogether, and I never did get them straight. I'm
not too sorry though, because the kids who learned
the presidents had to turn right around and learn
all the vice-presidents. I am taking the seventh grade
over, but our teacher this year isn't so interested
in the names of the presidents. She has us trying
to learn the names of all the great American inventors.
I guess I just can't remember the
names in history. Anyway, this year I've been trying
to learn about trucks because my uncle owns three,
and he says I can drive one when I'm sixteen. I already
know the horsepower and number of forward and backward
speeds of twenty-six American trucks, some of them
Diesels, and I can spot each make a long way off.
It's funny how that Diesel works. I started to tell
my teacher about it last Wednesday in science class
when the pump we were using to make a vacuum in a
bell jar got hot, but she, didn't see what a Diesel
engine had to do with our experiment on air pressure,
so I just kept still. The kids seemed interested though.
I took four of them around to my uncle's garage after
school, and we saw the mechanic, Gus, tear a big truck
Diesel down. Boy does he know his stuff!
I'm not very good in geography either.
They call it economic geography this year. We've been
studying the imports and exports of Chile all week,
but I couldn't tell what they are. Maybe the reason
is I had to miss school yesterday because my uncle
took me and his big truck down and we brought almost
10 tons of livestock to the Chicago market.
He had told me where we were going,
and I had to figure out the highways to take and also
the mileage. He didn't do anything but drive and turn
where I told him to, Was that fun. I sat with a map
in my lap, and told him to turn south, or southeast,
or some other direction. We made seven stops, and
drove over 500 miles round trip. I'm figuring now
what his oil cost, and also the wear and tear on the
truck--he calls it depreciation--so we'll know how
much we made.
I even write out all the bills and
send letters to the farmers about what their pigs
and beef cattle brought at the stockyards. I only
made three mistakes in 17 letters last time, my aunt
said, all commas. She's been through high school and
reads them over. I wish I could write school themes
that way. The last one I had to write was on, "What
a Daffodil Thinks of Spring," and I just couldn't
get going.
I don't do very well in school in
arithmetic either. Seems I just can't keep my mind
on the problems. We had one the other day like this:
If a 57 foot telephone pole falls
across a cement highway so that 17 3/6 feet extended
from one side and 14 9/17 feet from the other how
wide is the highway?
That seemed to me like an awfully
silly way to get the width of a highway. I didn't
even try to answer it because it didn't say whether
the pole had fallen straight across or not.
Even in shop I don't get very good
grades. All of us kids made a broom holder and bookend
this term, and mine were sloppy. I just couldn't get
interested. Mom doesn't use a broom anymore with her
vacuum cleaner, and all our books are in a bookcase
with glass doors in the living room. Anyway, I wanted
to make an end gate for my uncle's trailer, but the
shop teacher said that meant using metal and wood
both, and I'd have to learn how to work with wood
first. I didn't see why, but I kept still and made
a tie rack at school and the tail gate after school
at my uncle's garage. He said I saved him ten dollars.
Civics is hard for me, too. I've
been staying after school trying to learn the "Articles
of Confederation" for almost a week, because
the teacher said we couldn't be a good citizen unless
we did. I really tried, though, because I want to
be a good citizen. I did hate to stay after school
because a bunch of boys from the south end of town
have been cleaning up the old lot across from Taylor's
Machine Shop to make a playground out of it for the
little kids from the Methodist home. I made the jungle
gym from old pipe. We raised enough money collecting
scrap this month to build a wire fence clear around
the lot.
Dad says I can quit school when
I am sixteen, and I am sort of anxious because there
are a lot of things I want to learn--and as my uncle
says, I'm not getting any younger.
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