Amusing incidents in the classroom

[The Lone Ranger]

Okay, so I may be using a fairly broad definition of the term “classroom” here.

I had one student in an anatomy class I was teaching who, alas, wasn’t too bright. In one of the first labs of the semester, I was trying to teach the students how to use the metric system. Most of them got the idea right away, but a few were having problems. So, I pointed out that the metric system is much easier than is the English/U.S. system of measurement, since conversion between units simply involves moving decimals. By comparison, I pointed out, the U.S. system is much more complicated, what with there being 12 inches in a foot, 3 feet in a yard, 5,280 feet in a mile, etc. So I concluded by saying something along the lines of “If you can learn the U.S. system, then you can easily learn the metric system.” At that point, the young woman in question raised her hand and asked somewhat indignantly, “And how am I supposed to know how many inches there are in a foot?” I didn’t know what to say.


A few weeks later, in the same class, I was lecturing on muscle structure or something, and the same young woman raised her hand to ask a question. When I paused in my lecture to answer her question, she said, “Now this may be a dumb question …” Being a rather inexperienced teacher at that point, I confidently (and, I hoped, reassuringly) said, “Don’t worry – there’s no such thing as a dumb question.” She then proceeded to ask a question that revealed beyond any doubt that she hadn’t the slightest comprehension of the subject matter. I was floored. I mean, seriously. It would have been as if she were in a trigonometry class and asked, “What is one plus one?” I swear, I didn’t mean to say what I said next out loud. Honest. While I was struggling to think of a suitable way to answer her question without hurting her feelings, the thought went through my head, “Well, I could be wrong.” A fraction of a second later, I realized I’d just said that out loud. Oops! Fortunately, the young woman in question didn’t realize the significance of what I’d just said, but everyone else in the classroom did, and started turning various shades of red or purple as they tried desperately to keep from bursting into laughter.


At the same school, I also taught an Introductory Biology course. One day, I was leading a lab demonstration on the subject of photosynthesis. The idea was to demonstrate how the rate of photosynthesis depends on the amount of light available. So, students were to place a water plant, Elodea, inside a clear glass tube filled with water into which some carbonate had been dissolved (to provide CO2), and then note the amount of oxygen the plants produced in relation to the intensity of light shining on them.

I demonstrated the procedure for getting everything set up. First, you popped the plant into the glass tube, which was open at both ends. Then you placed the bottom of the tube into the water, placed your lips over the top opening (the tubes had been sterilized, of course), and sucked water into the tube up into the top. Then, you reached down and plugged the bottom of the tube with your fingers to hold the water in while you plugged the top of the tube, and then the bottom.

I demonstrated the procedure, and a couple of the students said that they didn’t think they could do it. This seemed strange to me, because it wasn’t exactly a difficult procedure. Did I mention that most of our students were in the nursing program? Even today, the vast majority of students who go into nursing are female, and so the class consisted entirely of female students.

When some of the students said that they didn’t think they could manage getting the photosynthesis tubes set up, one woman turned around and said, “Don’t tell me that with all these women in this classroom, nobody knows how to give a blow job!”



At a different school, I taught a General Zoology course. One day, one of our students brought in her 5-year old daughter, since she couldn’t get a babysitter. The girl was quite well-behaved, and I had no objection. We were discussing crustacean anatomy that day, and so I was showing the students the various appendages of a crayfish/lobster – maxillipeds, chelicerae, antennae, antennules, walking legs, uropods, etc. A few days later, the student in question came up to me and told me that she had taken her daughter out to dinner at a seafood restaurant the previous evening. When the waiter brought their dinner – a lobster – her daughter had insisted that the waiter remain while she named all 19 pairs of appendages and explained to the waiter what they did. (I wish her mother had been as good a student!)


In the same class, there was a student who was deaf. She had an interpreter who sat in a chair right in front of my lectern and signed to the student as I lectured. One day, I was lecturing on amphibians, and I mentioned that amphibians have water-permeable skins, which is why they cannot tolerate arid conditions. Hoping to stimulate some thought, I mentioned that spadefoot toads, nonetheless, live in deserts, and asked the students to explain to me how an animal with water-permeable skin could possibly survive in the desert*.

I noticed the student’s eyes grow wide at about that time, and she signed what was obviously an interrogative to her interpreter, who signed back what was obviously a confirmation. The student signed back, and from the vehemence of the exchange, it was clear to me that she didn’t believe what her interpreter was telling her. So, I paused and asked what the problem was. The interpreter told me that the student didn’t believe me about the “8-foot toads” that live in the desert. The class thought this was hilariously funny, but I did my best to gently correct her mis-hearing of what I’d said.


Yet another amusing incident occurred when I took that class on a field trip to a nearby wetland. I had told them to dress appropriately, as they’d be getting wet and probably muddy. Sure enough, I had them up to their waists in the water, turning over rocks to look for crayfish, salamanders, and other interesting critters. We brought along some seine nets and the caught fish to examine. All in all, most of them seemed to enjoy the experience immensely. At one point, we were slogging through the water when one of the students asked, “Is that a snake?” I turned to my left and looked, and sure enough, a young northern water snake (Nerodia sipedon) was swimming along. It was only about a foot long, and water snakes are perfectly harmless. So I said, “Yes it’s a …” as I turned my head back toward the students. As I said “Yes” I heard a tremendous splashing, and by the time I had turned my head, every single one of them was standing on the shore, some 20 feet away. Some of them appeared to be contemplating climbing the trees.


Those are only a handful of examples. Some good memories indeed.


During the first year of my master’s training, I attended a biological conference. I had only been in the program for a few weeks, but I had already discovered – somewhat to my surprise – that I really enjoyed teaching.

I didn’t really know anyone at the conference. At the buffet, while I was in line to get my dinner, there happened to be an elderly couple right behind me in line. Maybe I looked lost to them; I don’t know. When I tried to get some butter to put on my bread, I discovered that the stick of butter was as hard as a rock. “Geez, this butter has ossified,” I blurted out. The woman behind me started laughing, slipped her arm through mine, and said, “You have got to sit with us!” Thus, my dilemma about where to sit was neatly solved.

Once we got to the table and sat down, the man told me that he had just retired after some 50 years of teaching at Appalachian State University. He asked me what I planned to do. I told him that I’d originally figured I’d probably go into research, but now that I’d had a taste of teaching, I’d discovered that I really enjoyed it, and so I was thinking of going into teaching.

“Young man, let me tell you something,” he said. “I taught for 50 years. In that time, my wife and I never had any children of our own. But do you know something? We have thousands of children scattered all over the world. They’re the people we’ve taught, and we still get cards and letters from many of them. Those thousands of people are our legacy, and I couldn’t be prouder. If you decide to go into teaching, you’ll never regret it.”

You know something? He was right. I wish I’d gotten his name.


Cheers,

Michael


*Spadefoot toads spend the vast majority of their lives buried underground and hibernating. They revive and come to the surface only when it rains.

[Ensign Steve]

Originally Posted by The Lone Ranger

At a different school, I taught a General Zoology course. One day, one of our students brought in her 5-year old daughter, since she couldn’t get a babysitter. The girl was quite well-behaved, and I had no objection. We were discussing crustacean anatomy that day, and so I was showing the students the various appendages of a crayfish/lobster – maxillipeds, chelicerae, antennae, antennules, walking legs, uropods, etc. A few days later, the student in question came up to me and told me that she had taken her daughter out to dinner at a seafood restaurant the previous evening. When the waiter brought their dinner – a lobster – her daughter had insisted that the waiter remain while she named all 19 pairs of appendages and explained to the waiter what they did. (I wish her mother had been as good a student!)

That's the cutest one!

[cappuccino]

The blowjob story's pretty funny too and the deaf student getting the wrong information through the terp is something I can relate to. I've had terps relay something completely nonsensical I had to stop them and backpedal a bit. Sometimes they get into this zone where they're just chugging away without pausing to think about whether they're hearing things correctly. It's made for some pretty funny stories

[California Tanker]

In re the water snake. I have a philosophy along the lines of 'If you enter the water, you enter the food chain', and I've seen enough Nature Channel shows about Australian swimming snakes that will kill you by looking at you crosswise that I wil err on the side of caution, and egress the water in a manner most similar to a speedboat.

NTM

[The Lone Ranger]

Originally Posted by California Tanker

In re the water snake. I have a philosophy along the lines of 'If you enter the water, you enter the food chain', and I've seen enough Nature Channel shows about Australian swimming snakes that will kill you by looking at you crosswise that I wil err on the side of caution, and egress the water in a manner most similar to a speedboat.

Heh. I had a good "Crocodile Dundee" moment there once -- same place, different set of students.

I was at the head of about 15 - 20 students as we waded through the creek, turning over rocks to look for stonefly larvae, crayfish, salamanders, and the like. Some of the students had nets and were trying to catch daces, darters, or other small fishes. I was explaining to them the significance of the fact that we were finding stonefly larvae under the rocks* when I saw something interesting out of the corner of my eye.

As it happens, there's a species of snake native to the eastern U.S. known as the Queen Snake or Crayfish Snake (Regina septemvittata). They're small snakes, usually only about a foot long, and perfectly harmless. As you might imagine, they're generally found near water, and they have the interesting habit that they often climb trees and rest on tree branches overhanging water. That way, if a predator approaches, the snake simply drops down into the water and swims away.

Anyway, I finished up my talk about the significance of stoneflies, and started talking about queen snakes, timing my speech carefully. As I got to the part where I was saying, "they can often be found resting on tree branches overhanging the water -- like this ..." I reached up above my head and pulled down a snake.

Man, if any of them hadn't been paying attention before, they sure were then!

Cheers,

Michael


*Stonefly larvae are aquatic, and generally found living on the undersides of rocks in swift-moving, clear water. They have external gills that are very fragile and easily clogged with silt. Thus, they can survive only in very clean, silt-free water. Stream ecologists often use the presence or absence of stonefly larvae as a means of estimating the health of stream ecosystems.

[Ensign Steve]

Originally Posted by California Tanker

... and egress the water in a manner most similar to a speedboat.

You will have yourself towed up a boat ramp?

[California Tanker]

It's probably quicker than I can swim.

NTM

[livius drusus]

Great stories one and all, Michael, but you simply must tell us what the dumb question was.

Oh, and .

[The Lone Ranger]

I wish I could remember, but I can't. It was so staggeringly unexpected and breath-takingly dumb that I think I've blotted it out of my memory. All the other students rolled their eyes in disbelief, and all I can remember now is thinking, "She can't be serious!"

Cheers,

Michael

[viscousmemories]

Those are some great anecdotes, Michael. I particularly liked the 8-ft. toads.

[Leesifer]

Originally Posted by The Lone Ranger

Anyway, I finished up my talk about the significance of stoneflies, and started talking about queen snakes, timing my speech carefully. As I got to the part where I was saying, "they can often be found resting on tree branches overhanging the water -- like this ..." I reached up above my head and pulled down a snake.

That's just brilliant. I'll bet all the students still remember that incident as well.

[alphamale]

I worked as an astronomy teaching associate in grad school. There was a big lecture in one of those amphitheater classrooms twice a week, and then it broke down to 90-person lab sections in the planetarium on other days for which I had to elucidate the concepts brought up in the previous lecture. One time I was setting up in the planetarium in the beginning of the quarter, and students were straggling in for the first lab session. I overheard one "goth" guy say to his gf: "this is gonna be cool - I always wanted to learn something about astrology!".

[The Lone Ranger]

Originally Posted by alphamale

I worked as an astronomy teaching associate in grad school. There was a big lecture in one of those amphitheater classrooms twice a week, and then it broke down to 90-person lab sections in the planetarium on other days for which I had to elucidate the concepts brought up in the previous lecture. One time I was setting up in the planetarium in the beginning of the quarter, and students were straggling in for the first lab session. I overheard one "goth" guy say to his gf: "this is gonna be cool - I always wanted to learn something about astrology!".

Oh my goodness! I hope lesson #1 was something to the effect of, "The obstetrician who delivered you had a greater gravitational influence on you than did the planet Jupiter."

Cheers,

Michael

[Plant Woman]

Originally Posted by The Lone Ranger

A few days later, the student in question came up to me and told me that she had taken her daughter out to dinner at a seafood restaurant the previous evening. When the waiter brought their dinner – a lobster – her daughter had insisted that the waiter remain while she named all 19 pairs of appendages and explained to the waiter what they did. (I wish her mother had been as good a student!)

Meet your new study buddy!

[The Lone Ranger]

My mother had (probably still has, I imagine) a particularly nosy neighbor. Apparently, the lady in question has nothing better to do than to spend her days peering out the windows, trying to find out what her neighbors are up to.


One day I caught a particularly large King Snake (Lampropeltis getula), much to my delight. I've always liked king snakes, because they're big, handsome serpents, and they tend to be exceptionally tame. They're also fairly rare, so I was quite pleased to find the snake; I'd been out hunting for snakes, lizards, and turtles because the lectures I had scheduled for that week were on reptiles.

My mother, as it happens, is quite the ophidiophobe. She's not one of those people who would go out of her way to kill a snake, but only because she'd be too frightened of one to get close-enough. I thought that I'd take the snake over to my mother, and show it to her, because I've been conducting an ongoing campaign since I was 6 or so to convince my mother that snakes aren't the horrid things she thinks they are. I figured that a serpent as handsome and well-behaved as a king snake would be an ideal candidate to show her. So, I went by her place to show her the snake before continuing on to school. It took awhile, but she did concede that it was a beautiful animal, and even stroked it a couple of times. So, I felt that progress had been made.

She told me later that it wasn't 30 seconds after I left that her neighbor was on the telephone, wanting to know why I'd been there -- and holding a snake no less.



Some time later, I was teaching an anatomy class when one of my students dropped a human skull and chipped off a large portion of the occipital bone. (At the base of the skull, where the spinal cord comes in.) I decided to take the skull with me and try to fix it. Since my mother's house was on the way, I stopped there to see if she had some superglue I might use. As I got out of the car, carrying a real human skull in one hand, I casually glanced across the street and saw the curtain snap shut.

It occurred to me that I really should have gotten a cantelope, wrapped it in a towel, "sneaked" out into the back yard, and buried it. Were it not for the fact that my mother would probably have soon had a visit from the local police, I might have done it.

Cheers,

Michael