In tenth grade Biology, when we dissected fetal pigs, I named mine Benito so that it could be a fascist pig.
Whatever gets you through the knife…
How very, very strange: this weekend, I was in Washington, DC and ran into my tenth grade Biology teacher at a produce stand in the Eastern Market! What makes it stranger is that I went to high school in New Jersey.
Also, when I took Anatomy and Physiology, we did a cat dissection, and I named the poor guy Drop Dead Fred. It was that class–though infinitely fascinating–that made me realize a career in the life sciences was NOT for me.
In 8th grade science we popped the frog’s eyes after dissecting the frogs, and jumped rope with the pig’s intestines. We also chased mercury across the floor to catch it after it fell. Ah, the good old days…
Kenny, I ran into my junior high school art teacher from NY in one of the old houses in Williamsburg about 10 years later. He told me I hadn’t changed a bit. That was pretty surprising to hear until I realized I was wearing blue jean overalls and a pink oxford shirt at age 24… then it was downright depressing.
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