Monday, April 13, 2020

A True Story

This is a true story. This happened. In the 11th grade. I've changed names to protect the affected.

In this plague I often check my privilege.

I have food. Health insurance. Internet. Vehicles. A job. An office to be solitary in while I work. I worry about nothing save my A1C. My boredom.

My privilege is also education. Bless be my 11th grade AP biology teacher, Mrs. Manilla.
From her I learned early the difference between a virus and a bacteria. She staged a debate where we had to argue of viruses were truly alive as they were nothing but packets of genetic material. No cells. No Golgi apparatus. 

But here is the story...we were learning about reproduction. The real dry stuff, don't worry. X and Y chromosomes. Blastulas and what not.

And Mrs. Manilla told us how seven was mostly water and sugar. "Glucose. For the sperm cells to use as energy"

Then Mariela raises her hand.

Few words. Mariela was the sort of high school character they come up in movies. Gorgeous. Intelligent, in every AP class our school could muster. Even AP French. She was trilingual! She played sports, volleyball and softball. Student council. Was she made in a lab and released on all places my high school in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico?

And she says "Then why does it taste salty?"

To which Mrs. Minilla replied "Because taste buds are on your tongue. Not the throat."

Then the class went on as if nothing but you could launch a Titan missile with the kinetic energy stored from everyone trying not to scream laugh. Poor Mariela. She didn't deserve it. She was legitimately and sincerely amazing.  Just bad timing. She recovered. See all the aforementioned.

We don't deserve our teachers. That's for sure.

No comments:

Long Night of Solace

I think I'm going to put the blog formally on hiatus. I've reached a comfortable nadir in my life, edging between depression and spu...