Until I reached high school, one of my most avid hobbies had been collecting rocks and minerals, and learning about geology and the forces that run the earth. My rock collection was huge. It contained samples of hundreds of different rocks and minerals of all types. I had some really beautiful pieces, including geodes, red sandstone, cats eyes, and petrified wood.
Thus, when I noticed that my new high school offered a geology class, I was thrilled. I thought this would be an opportunity to learn some new things about one of my favorite hobbies. I thought we’d learn about the forces below the earth’s surface, we’d see pictures of volcanoes in action and we’d perhaps go on a field trip or two to see the the earth up close.
Mr. Key had an opportunity that was perhaps unique in his experience. He had a student who actually loved the subject that he was teaching. He could have taken this student and really done something with him. He could have turned me into a professional geologist.
Unfortunately, it was obvious from the first day of class that Mr. Key did not enjoy geology. He was not thrilled when he saw a volcano exploding into the sky. He couldn’t care less about petrified wood, and he thought gold and silver were investment tools and nothing more.
His lectures tended to be dull things - he spoke from his chair, and only got up when absolutely necessary. He spoke in a very soft voice, so it was difficult to hear him or to understand his words.
I now believe that Mr. Key was teaching this class against his will. This is because he actually seemed to go out of his way to discourage his students, and was as unemotional and unexcited as I’ve ever seen a teacher. He not only didn’t care about his subject, he actually seemed to be trying to discourage his students from gaining an interest in the subject.
After taking two classes on the subject (an entire year’s worth of study) I was so disgusted, so completely discouraged by this man that I threw away almost every rock and mineral that I owned. Over ten years worth of collecting and cataloging went into the trash can, never to be seen again.
I don’t remember throwing away my rock collection. My parents tell me that one day I simply picked up the entire collection and tossed it into the trash can. They were very perplexed, but they didn’t interfere.
I fervently wish that they’d chosen to interfere, if only to salvage that collection from the trash can. Now, almost fifteen years later, I regret that rash act, and wish I had kept my collection. All that remains are a few rocks that were hidden in a desk drawer. I found them five years after I moved out, and remembered with sorrow the collection that I’d lost.
Unless otherwise noted, all photos and text is Copyright © Richard G Lowe, Jr.