Today he takes his lab exam. He stands before the first question, set out on the lab bench, with a scowl on his face. I look up and wonder if he will be able to answer it. The question isn't difficult. In fact, the first few questions concern the microscope--the easiest subject on the lab exam. And if he is having trouble figuring out what happens when you change an objective lens from 10X to 40X, then he'll have a heck of a time figuring out the number of peptide bonds in the molecule over at number eight.
|What happens when you switch from 10X to 40X?*|
|How many peptide bonds are in this organic molecule?**|
I'm not trying to be crass or rude, considering I just might have called him stupid. I'm just perplexed. He attends lab each week and lecture every day it is scheduled. I give him all the information to work with. I clue him in to what he needs to know--without teaching to the test. (I compose my own lecture exams, but not the lab exams.) I encourage questions and hold review sessions. And still, this kid is not doing well. So the only things I know about this boy at this point in time are twofold. 1. The information I'm telling this boy is not settling into his brain. 2. He wears Lucky Brand underwear. (While taking the lab exam, he was leaning on the bench in front of my desk. I looked up and all I saw was Lucky Brand in script. Not my fault.)
|Navy. He wore these in navy. (I really wish I didn't know this about him.)|
Therefore, I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing and hope that at some point, this boy and his underwear (and his pants--we need have those) saunter over to me and say, "Hey, I need some help." And at that point, I'll help him, because it's my job.
However, should he pass this class and eventually become a nurse, I will be very wary of him.