The Kat House

I may not look like your typical nerd, but I’m a big one – always have been! I’ve lightened up a little in my old age, but you should have seen me back in high school. I had no social life to speak of. I was in an advanced placement curriculum, went to work for a few hours each day after school, and then went home and stayed up until 1 or 2 AM studying. I wasn’t a straight A student, but I was pretty close. There were a couple of Bs scattered throughout my high school career, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, there was one C. It was in Mr. Rickman’s chemistry class.

I was both mathematically and scientifically inclined, so chemistry should not have been a problem. I could understand the most complex of mathematical equations. I adored Biology and even considered going into the medical field. But when it came to chemistry, I just couldn’t comprehend it. I knew the Periodic Chart, and I had a decent understanding of molecular structure. In fact, to most I probably seemed to be fairly knowledgeable in the area. I could understand the individual pieces of chemistry, but I just couldn’t seem to fit it all together. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. And not being able to see the big picture caused me serious difficulty in Mr. Rickman’s class.

Mr. Rickman must have been about a hundred years old back then. He was a tall, slender man who spoke with a thick southern drawl. He had a habit of calling his students “yahoos” – which he pronounced “yay-hooz”. His lectures would practically put me to sleep. And though I remember very little about them, I recall that the phrase “in a vacuum” was used in practically every sentence. I had no clue what he was talking about, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t referring to Sebo vacuums.

I’ve always been an honest person. I’m the person who speaks up when a grocery item rings up less than it should have. It’s just my nature. But that chemistry class brought out my dark side. I spent hours and hours studying before the tests, yet I went to class totally unprepared for them. So I did what I never thought possible, and what I have never done since. I cheated. It wasn’t the usual form of cheating, mind you. I didn’t get any questions or answers ahead of time. On the night before each exam, I wrote down every equation I thought I might need. I wrote them on one sheet of paper with another sheet underneath, and I bared down hard enough that the indentions of my writing would appear on the blank sheet. Then I used that blank sheet for my “scratch paper” during the exam. It helped a little, but not much. Half the time, I couldn’t even figure out which equation I should use.

I breathed the biggest sigh of relief when that school year ended. And I somehow managed not to take any chemistry classes in college. I now know everything I need to know about chemistry, and I owe it not to Mr. Rickman – but to a comic book geek with a heart made of AU.