"It's cause I'm stupid!" (1-16-08)

"Why am I wrong?" Carlos demanded. "It's cause I'm stupid. That's why." Such a defeatist attitude..."I'm wrong cause I'm stupid." I don't know if he really believes what he's saying, but I sure hope not. After all, he's one of the brightest students we have. "I'm not sure," I replied, "it could be any of your coefficients, a, b, or c. A minor error during any of your calculations could have caused the final equation to be off. Either way, just cause your quadratic model isn't producing the answer we're looking for doesn't make you stupid. Do you realize the intelligence it takes just to put this equation together. Don't sell yourself short Carlos...you're smart."

I really wasn't sure why it was wrong, but something seemed funny to me. Like Columbo finding the last clue before he breaks the case I kept looking at the solution. 18.6 seconds. The rocket would take 18.6 seconds to reach the ground. Based on the parabola on our graphs we were expecting a value somewhere between 30 and 34. Why 18.6? "Wait a second Carlos...let me see your graph...(pause to look at the curve and where it hits the x-axis) ARE YOU KIDDING ME! It's right...it's absolutely right. You were looking at the old data set...LOOK at your graph...WHERE DOES THE CURVE HIT THE X-AXIS?" "At 18," Carlos slowly and quietly rolled off his tongue. "AT 18! Which is damn close to what we got from your quadratic model. You're not stupid, not even close...you're just disorganized and have trouble following directions."

"Now that we've solved that mystery (speaking to the class) use this work (pointing to the modeling I had done with the quadratic formula to find the roots of a parabola) with your a, b, and c values to figure out when you think the rocket ship will reach the ground." As I walked around the room watching the students complete the task I felt a sense of comfort. Nearly everyone was trying to complete it. Nearly everyone demonstrated a desire to succeed. Nearly everyone wanted to engage in learning.

A couple of minutes passed when Josh approached me to share his solution. With a smile strung across his face like a sideways banana and his eyes open wider than a two year old staring at a bowl of ice cream his look said it all. "Check this out Mr. Singer," he said. "31.7 seconds." The evidence of his work was right there in front of me. He was so proud and I was too. Sharing a look of appreciation we hugged it out. Not a womanly type hug, but a man hug with a couple pats on the back. The kind of hug that a tough football coach might give to a player after making a great play. Josh is one of those kids whose just plain hungry for knowledge. How can you not want to give him a hug. How many students do you know that get that happy about performing in math class? He really is a great kid.

Moving away from Josh and continuing around the room my sense of pride and accomplishment grew. I knew I was looking at just 1 class and just 5 minutes and just 17 kids, but everything for that moment felt right. Like we were all learners...like we were all part of a team...like we were a collaborative learning community.