This is what they called it about the time the Cardinals won their first World Series of which I was aware. The “smart” kids were corralled and marched down to the cafeteria in an off hour. At first it was an honor, and then it became a sickness. I began to get nauseated as that time of the day came along.
I remember the cafeteria being all beige with eight foot long tables rearranged from lunch. Using graphite on one of those tables made interesting bold marks. And you could rub them away with your finger. Even the eraser made great marks if you tracked it through a smudge of graphite. Of course, I was just interested in the marks; they were not answers to anything. I had no idea what the answers were.
A year later, Glenn had a similar experience in Catholic school. They brought in a “lay” teacher to instruct in the new math. She was all red. Glenn remembers a redhead, deep red lipstick and a red skirt she sometimes wore. It is all imagery for Glenn.
In different little worlds, and both of us being in what is now called the “creative class”, neither of us understood what was happening. We could not figure up and down anymore, we had to go side to side. We could not use regular numbers anymore, we had to use only ones and zeros. Why? They said it was for a switch being turned on or off. What switch? Why a switch? A switch to what?
My mind could not complete the change in longitude and latitude. And what about cancelling out things on either side of the “equal” sign? Why? It was all just a nightmare.
I did not have the confidence to ask an authority about these changes. All I knew was that everybody else understood it, and I did not.
On NPR some months ago, a man discussed that research has discovered that some learners cannot understand until they are told what the calculations were for. Well, YEAH. Wish I had been part of that research: they forgot about the vomiting part.