Chapter 2

"And goodnight to the old lady whispering 'hush.'

"Good night stars.

"Goodnight air.

"Goodnight noises everywhere."

I knew Justin was asleep. He would definitely have joined in with "hush," had he been awake.

He was already past three, but I suspected I might have to keep reading him Goodnight Moon until he graduated high school.

I put down the book, turned out the light and headed to the kitchen where Nancy was studying at the table.

Earlier, she had told me she needed some help with Social Studies. In this particular case, she was having trouble remembering some names and dates.

I was tempted to tell Nancy that the reason she was having trouble was that nobody really ought to care, and names and dates were mostly irrelevant. What was important were the concepts of why things happened and the general time periods in which they happened, the flow of history. I was tempted, but I didn't.

I remembered the math incident.

My younger brother Richard had a very unpleasant encounter with an algebra test. Actually, it was really an unpleasant encounter with an algebra teacher.

Richard had understood all the material covered in the test and used the concepts correctly except for the slight problem that he was careless with his arithmetic. Sometimes he would use the multiplication sign, but add the numbers. Sometimes he would subtract instead of divide.

All of the correct formulae and symbols were right there on his paper except for some of the final answers. And to this written proof of his understanding of the concepts, his teacher had affixed a red "55."

Mom said Dad should do something. Dad said that Richard had to learn to be more careful.

I tried to explain to him what a complete understanding of the material Richard had shown. I passionately argued that the answers were of minimal importance compared to understanding in order to correctly lay out the problems.

Dad was unmoved. So I decided to visit Richard's teacher on Parents' Night.

I confidently strode into the correct room. After all, I was a senior. Richard was just a ninth grader. "I'm looking for the engineering teacher, Mr. Werth."

"I'm Mr. Werth, but I'm the math teacher," he said.

"No, that isn't possible. I'm looking at this paper, and the engineering teacher marked many of these problems incorrect because the final numbers were wrong which, of course, is the correct approach in engineering. Do that kind of sloppy work and the bridge will fall down.

"But, if you were a math teacher, you would understand that the final answer is almost irrelevant. What is important is understanding the concepts and how to do the problems. I want to talk to the other Mr. Werth; the one who understands mathematics, not the guy who builds stuff."

I had meant to focus him on what was important in math: understanding the concepts. I thought this approach would bring clarity.

He thought I was insulting him. He said as much to the principal, who demanded an apology on behalf of Mr. Werth the following day.

Rather than proffer the requested apology, I sought to elucidate.