Since fall break I had been waiting to come home for Thanksgiving so I could be around my large family and eat enough food the week that I was home to make up for my pitiful refridgerator in Pittsburgh. But, this year most of my family visited their in-laws, and my mom worked all day, so my immediate family, plus 3, ate dinner at Cracker Barrel.
My parents and us “kids” drove separately and my parents left the restaurant before us. My brother, cousin, god children, and I sat at the restaurant a while trying to beat the impossible peg board game. The object of the game is to only have one peg remaining. If you leave two then according to the game “you’re pretty smart.” If you leave three “you’re just plain dumb,” and if you leave “four or more’n” then you’re just an ignoramus (its spelled in a much more ridiculous and insulting way on the actual game). After failing for the umpteenth time, my brother shoved the game away and mumbled in his 18 year old nostalgia, “This is stupid. This game doesn’t matter.”
“Oh your just mad that the game keeps calling you an eeeegnoramous!” my cousin teases.
“No! This game is actually stupid, I’m ready to go.”
At first I thought my brother was just being “emo,” but during our ride home we had the most philosophical conversation ever. The conversation has made me completely rethink my proposed solution to the “literacy crisis” and my approach to the remixed essay.
My brother offered his solution to the school system through a 6 hour rant/conversation that was triggered by a board game but started by 12 “wasted years trapped in pointless walls.” He started off talking about how nothing in life mattered but food, water, homeostasis, and salvation. Then he began talk about how money and degrees are pointless, because knowledge can’t be measured. I offer to you his condensed solution, simple and sweet and incomplete.
Teachers should teach and learn. Students should learn and teach. This way Shakespeare isn’t so pointless, biology and math aren’t unnecessarily complicated, and students actually remember what they learned each year. But the only way a subjects utility is known, their has to be a relationship between teachers and students and administrators.
How can we fill this out more?