My high school biology teacher, Miss Stone, taught a high-intensity high-speed course for the aspiring science major. She taught it like a freshman course in a good university: fast lectures, a lot of reading, and high expectations for retention and comprehension. She even added extra after-school sessions in spring for those who were interested. Students who did well in the course and took the extra sessions would reliably pass the AP exam.
And then there was … the Microbiology Challenge. In the middle of the year, an extended lab project required us to grow yeast cultures in test tubes full of nutrient broth. She told us the goal of the project (which I don't remember now), and gave us practically no instructions. Week after week, puzzled and frustrated students (myself included) would find their test tubes, once again, contaminated. Where there should have been a healthy yeast population, there was a cloudy stinky mass of other single-celled invaders. I remember her peeking into the microscope and gleefully asking somebody, "Is that your yeast or your pond water?"
After a few weeks of this, 85% of the class that was still stuck; but we began to notice that 15% of the class seemed to know something we didn't know. They used a number of techniques such as passing a flame over the opening of the test tube every time they opened it for any reason. And their cultures did not get contaminated. Other students began to ask those 15% what they were doing, and word got around bit by bit.
Eventually, after the end of the project, the class as a whole was given the half a dozen standard microbiology methods – flame and so forth—that would allow anybody to do this culture growth successfully (and would have reduced the six-week project to a one-week project).
I still don't know where those 15% got the advance information. Did they corner the teacher after hours and demand extra help? Were they the children of professional scientists? Did they take the bus to Harvard and dig in the science library there?
The real agenda of this project was never stated. I can guess at two things Miss Stone might have had in mind.
- Preventing contamination is really hard. Until you've failed twenty times in a row you won't appreciate this.
- In real life, the "answers" are not given to you in advance. You have to use any and all means (teacher, parents, Harvard library) to solve problems that nobody even told you would exist in the first place.
These are both laudable purposes, but I left with a feeling of frustration around (2). In terminology I learned later in life, I would have said we were "set up to fail". Or perhaps it was a "sink or swim" type of test. Students who – somehow – had already at age 15 grasped lesson (2) were able to demonstrate it and appreciate the success it brought.
Next instalment soon. . . running out of time here . . .