Juji -- Teen Investigator

Chapter 2 - "Historical History"

    I struggled to hold back a yawn as Miss Erika continued talking about her fascination with the Medieval period of European history. “The Middle Ages was a time period that lasted from the fifth century to the fifteenth century, beginning with the fall of the Western Roman Empire and then merging into the Renaissance and Age of Discovery…”

    When I looked around the room, I noticed many students reading messages on their phone or sitting with their eyes closed. No matter how bored I was, I vowed never to close my eyes in a classroom – at least not intentionally.

    After scribbling full notes from Miss Erika’s lecture, I too pulled out my phone. I snapped photos of some of the names and dates written on the whiteboard at the front of the classroom and recorded audio and video of all comments about things to study for the test. I wanted to be cautious, but I felt completely confident that all this information was available in the history book.

    By tapping into certain websites, I could get a more detailed description of Europe and other countries in the fifteenth century. My notes could act as confirmation, and narrow down any complicated questions planned for the test.

    Miss Erika continued, “And everything that happened in this historical time period reached a c****x at the end of the fourteenth century when, as you all know, Christopher Columbus discovered America.”

    “Fifteenth century!” I responded without hesitation. I didn’t raise my hand or ask a question. I just knew what she intended to say and wanted to make that simple correction to avoid confusion of the entire class.

    What?” asked Miss Erika as she spun around.

    “I’m sorry. 1492 is the fifteenth century,” I replied politely.

    The class seemed confused before the girl sitting in front of me, Brooke, looked back laughing and gave me a thumbs up. I felt regretful because I knew the intention of Miss Erika’s comment was not to lie or mislead the students. And my immediate response was intended only to be a simple clarification. But the result was completely unintended.

    Miss Erika looked annoyed as she walked back behind her desk. She picked up her marker and continued while writing on the board, “The fourteen-hundreds was the bridge between the Late Middle Ages to the Early Renaissance. It was a period in World History that must be fully studied and explored by today’s students.”

    I agreed with Miss Erika. I always had a special taste for the Julian years of European history, as that period opened the doors to the Early Renaissance -- a fascinating period of discovery. I continued scribbling notes and wrote down pages that matched notes from my textbook and documented times of pictures on my phone.

    “Your test tomorrow will focus on the people and events from the fifteenth century,” she said while again looking over in my direction. “This test will be one hundred questions with multiple choice answers. Computers will grade the exams, so there is no room for error. Answers with two circles filled in, or left blank will be recorded as incorrect.”

    Brooke turned again and showed me her notebook with scribbled illegible information. She then crossed her fingers and smiled proudly. I was not impressed and did not believe that conduct was appropriate during class -- no more than sleeping.

    Miss Erika continued, “All tests must be turned in when the first bell rings to end class. It is recommended that students use number two pencils with erasers to fill in one circle for easy correction of answers before handing in the test. And students must not rush to finish before the bell rings ending the class. There will be no extra credit for speed. Is that understood?”

    Speed was one thing I was proud of. I couldn’t score higher than one hundred percent, and I accomplished that on every test. My only way of improving my satisfaction was to be first to hand in the test at a record speed. And answers to all the questions on my test would, as usual, be filled in using an ink pen. That was my policy. By using ink, my test could measure both speed and accuracy. No corrections and no room for error.

    “Knock, knockity, knock, knock.” As usual, Coach Kenny was standing at the door with exactly one minute remaining. Miss Erika immediately put her notebook down on the table and turned to the classroom.

    “Please review your notes, and begin memorizing important facts from the fifteenth century,” she said. “This midterm exam may be the most important test of the year.”

    When Miss Erika arrived at the doorway, she had a big smile. Her back was turned to the class, and she looked around before whispering to Coach Kenny. I couldn’t make out a single word or sentence, but I knew this conversation was about the grades of the football team’s star quarterback, Freddy.

    I struggled to ignore their personal discussion and noticed other students beginning the usual unmonitored conversations about the big Friday Football game and the Fall Formal dance. No matter my lack of interest, I knew of the events due to the ongoing publicizing I’d heard every year. It was a tradition going way back at Pixley High School.

    I began reading and comparing notes from Chapter nine of the book with inconsistencies I found online. I was not surprised to see slight variations of name spellings and dates, but I continued reading the chronological data when Brooke turned around again.

    “Juji, I think this is the exam that might determine our mid-term grades,” she said. “What do you think?”

    “Yes,” I answered politely and continued examining data from the two sources.

    “I’m personally bored with fourteenth-century history,” she said before pausing. “I mean the fifteenth century. The fourteen hundred’s is the fifteenth century. Right? You sure taught Miss Erika a lesson there!”

    I didn’t laugh or even smile but resumed my comparison of facts from the two sources while scribbling on paper and typing notes on my phone. I heard laughter coming from Coach Kenny and Miss Erika outside the doorway but also ignored their personal conversation.

    Brooke continued, “You know? Coach Kenny hits on Miss Erika with one minute remaining in class every day. It’s like clockwork.”

    “Yes. And it’s their business,” I replied. “Students are responsible for studying and doing homework.”

    “I know, I know. But I think Coach Kenny is trying to ‘sweet-talk’ a special grade for Freddy. It’s just his way of keeping Freddy in Friday’s Football game.” Brooke looked around the room and continued, “A low score on this test might mean he has to sit out. Poor Freddy.”

    “This test will cover an important part of World History. We should all be devoting resources to a momentous time period of the fourteen hundreds,” I said and continued reading.

    Brooke then pointed to Haley, the head cheerleader talking to Freddy. “Both Haley and Freddy need this test to maintain eligibility for this weekend’s football game -- and the dance. This could truly be the biggest weekend of their senior year, and they’re both hanging on by a thread.”

    “We shouldn’t talk about other students’ grades,” I replied. “It’s none of our business.” I wasn’t concerned about the authenticity of her beliefs, but the source. Where did she discover this classified grade information? And how could she be proud to publicly announce this private information?

    “Juji, I know you and I have two of the highest grades in class. We should be proud! This simple test will hardly be a factor in our semester grade,” Brooke looked around before whispering, “But this test could be a major factor in choosing a college for every senior at Pixley. I like to monitor the motivation of all students and their willingness to go that extra mile.”

    “RING!”

    The bell sounded giving us three minutes to get to the next class. Brooke spun around one final time while loading books and strapping on her backpack. “All tests may seem impossible without a plan.” Brooke then darted out of the classroom. “Bye Juji!”

    I reluctantly replied with a head nod and a polite smile and began packing my extra load of books, notebooks, and bike padding. Students all rushed out talking and laughing, and I remained in my seat until all was clear. As usual, I would be the last to leave.

    Freddy, the football star, stood outside of the doorway arguing with Coach Kenny. “I can get a ‘D’. That’s enough for a passing grade. I can still play!”

    “Another ‘D’ is not a passing grade, not on my team!” Coach Kenny seemed upset before the two turned and walked down the hall, and continued arguing.

    As I stuffed my helmet and pads into my backpack, I looked to Miss Erika’s desk and saw Haley the cheerleader standing and pointing fingers. “Why can’t we just postpone this test? Freddy and I can take it first thing on Monday when we’ve had extra time to study and are finished with all the Fall Formal events? It makes sense! I think it’s only fair.”

    “No one will be skipping this test because ‘it’s inconvenient’. It’s been on the schedule since this semester started! It’s an important exam that will be graded by a computer. No special favors!” replied Miss Erika as she erased writing from the board. “Missing it means not only failing the test, but also failing the semester. And there are no exceptions.”

    Haley stood in thought considering her options. She then turned around and stormed out of the classroom. “Fine,” she mumbled. “Freddy and I will just have to make do.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Miss Erika but got no answer.

    I finished zipping up my backpack before finally walking towards the empty classroom door. I knew I still had time to unload my gear into my locker and arrive at Math class with at least thirty seconds to spare.

    Miss Erika then commented when she saw me walking out. “Miss Juji? Humiliating me in front of my World History class is not something I will stand for.”

    “I’m sorry Miss Erika,” I replied. “I was only trying to prevent any student from being confused. I know this test is very important for some students.”

    “I will allow fourteen-year-old students to take my History class, but they must remain humble and polite,” she said. “Your disrespect is something I will not tolerate -- from you or any student. Do you understand?”

    “I understand what you will not tolerate,” I said politely. I then turned and walked out. I was aware that my simple correction was interpreted much differently by Miss Erika than intended. But falsities by any teacher are not something to be ignored.

    The time before the bell was now down to nearly a minute. I knew that was still plenty of time for unloading bike gear and book supplies into my locker in preparation for Calculus, but I was not worried. This was the school’s most advanced class, and I had again maintained a perfect score. It was important that I continue to sustain that A plus average without stepping on toes and offending any of the Pixley administration.

    As I walked down the hall, I was first struck by Coach Kenny and Freddy still arguing over the importance of this History exam. Freddy looked nervous, and the coach acted like it was the most important event in the entire football season.

    “You understand, this is not something you can do just by crossing your fingers!” yelled the coach. “It’s going to take dedication and commitment like you’ve never made before!”

    “Coach, I can do it. I’ve got a backup plan that will keep me on the team and allow me to play Friday’s football game. Relax.”

    “You think the team can trust you and your silly plan?” asked the angry coach. “This is too important. I’ve got my own plans. I’m suspending you from practice today.”

    “But Coach! It’s just a History test!”

    “You go home and start studying! Right now!” answered Coach Kenny. “I already talked to Miss Erika, and she says she’s doing everything she can.”

    I knew this was all none of my business, but I wanted to help. Maybe I could work with Freddy. I was happy to sit with him and go over important notes from the fifteenth century, but I knew they were not interested. That was not an option to even be considered.

    Coach Kenny looked angry before noticing I was overhearing their conversation as I walked by. He stopped and stared before continuing, “Just go home and start studying -- and memorizing your history! No more discussion! I’m going to talk to your other teachers. I want an A on this test! And I don’t care how you do it.”

    “Skip classes?” asked Freddy. I could get in trouble...”

    “I can handle that!” Coach Kenny then turned and headed for his office.

    “Yes sir,” replied Freddy before turning and walking out the front door to the parking lot.

    I was amazed with the weight of this exam on Freddy’s shoulders. I always suspected he was gambling with a bad grade based on his scribbled notes and lack of attention. But skipping classes, and heading home early, all just to study for one exam was very unusual. Freddy’s grade put him in danger of being suspended from the football team, failing a class, and losing the chance at earning an important college scholarship.

    When I arrived at my locker, I quickly entered the last number of my five-digit combination.

    I had developed this system of entering the first four digits of my combination before leaving school every night to ensure a faster combination entry each morning. I wasn’t worried about locker security overnight because my locker was practically empty when I left school. But quick access in the morning was vital. I needed to store bike equipment and books in a hurry without the risk of a miscalculation of my time schedule.

    I began separating helmet and bike pads and hanging them on their assigned hooks and shelves. I had created this custom locker with shelves, sorted groups, and hangers to accommodate all articles for quick storage and easy accessibility.

    The halls were busy with hurried students and average teenage gossip exchange, but I had a lot on my mind. Most important was regaining proper time distribution and organizing my Wednesday schedule.

    As I walked into the Calculus class, everyone looked up, then turned to the clock. The second hand was ticking, but I sat down with several seconds to spare. As I pulled out my notebook and Calculus book, the second bell rang.

    Mr. Leonard quietly walked over and closed the door before starting his daily lecture. “Some students like cutting it close I see,” mumbled Mr. Leonard. “This lack of concern for a tardy time of arrival is not something I can forgive easily. Every student should know that.”

    I knew those comments were aimed at me, but I didn’t have time or interest to begin an argument before class. Students in Calculus were different from history because it was an alternate class for advanced students, who had risen to a higher level and selected this optional class versus the required class agenda for all students.

    Dr. Leonard turned and walked over to the black chalkboard and spoke with confidence, “Calculus uses mathematical models in order to arrive at the optimal solution. Everyone must understand that in spite of the number of questions, students must primarily focus on the rate of change in Calculus functions.”

    No matter how boring Mr. Leonard was in his lectures and style, I looked at Calculus as a way of measuring computations and principles for every question and arriving at a solution to every problem. And I truly believed that was my strongest skill.

    It was all indirectly a way of examining clues, collecting data, and calculating all possibilities before finally arriving at a solution.

    Because of that, I considered Calculus to be my number one subject.