During my senior year of high school, I signed up for General Chemistry. Entering the classroom, I noticed the periodic table was hanging on the wall. The teacher was jazzed about his subject, but I felt like he was speaking a different language.
It should be noted I was already taking German.
After a serious attempt to understand the subject matter, I had to drop out. Chemistry made no sense to me. Like ‘proofs’ in geometry, this was beyond my skill set. It was the first class I ever had to actually drop out of. I’m not a quitter. I give everything my all. But, . . . alas, this was beyond me.
Thinking I should understand something about the sciences, I then signed up for biology. Plants are beautiful and animals are likeable. How hard could it be? That semester, we dissected a fetal pig. It was gross, and I’ll never forget the smell of the formaldehyde. I tried my hardest to identify the pig parts on the exam.
I got an F.
The biology teacher, Mr. Bosacher, took pity on me as he saw my face drop and tears roll down my cheeks when we got our tests back. He was so enthusiastic about getting kids to learn about biology that let me come in after school and take the test again. He stood beside me, pointed to the pin with a #1 on a small flag attached to a pig part and said, “that looks like a liver, doesn’t it Cathy? I think that’s the liver.” Obediently, I wrote down “Liver” next to #1 on my test paper. Next, he pointed to pin #2, “that looks like the heart, doesn’t it, Cathy?” Catching on to his game, I wrote “heart” as answer number 2. He told me what each part “looked like” until I passed the test. Although I didn’t grow to love biology, it was a testament to the lengths teachers will go to help their students.
What a lovely man.
Science just wasn’t my thing. I couldn’t see it or memorize it. It was too abstract. Now accounting, . . . that was my jam! There is always a debit on the left and a credit on the right. Things balance and make sense.
It’s important for me to understand myself. Without it I have no humility. Without it, I’m limited to what I know and understand, which is just a thimbleful of water measuring the ocean. If I believe truth and knowledge ends with my own understanding, I’m destined to live in a small, dangerous, and limited world.
It good to know both my strengths and my weaknesses.
Now you may not think accounting is important, but I’ll argue that accountants rule the world.
. . . except when it comes to a pandemic.
Am I ever grateful for the people who understand chemistry, biology, and all the other disciplines that create cures for the human body. If it was up to me, those with weeping wounds and smelly discharge would have to fend for themselves. If fighting COVID were in my court, everyone would have passed on to another life by now.
Is it humbling to admit my inability to understand science? Only if I think I have the ability to know and do everything. That would be super arrogant! I find it easier to trust others in their area of expertise. I’ll stick to accounting, other people can stick to science.