How I taught physics to future doctors

Preamble

In the United States, students dreaming of a medical career must first obtain a bachelor's degree from the so-called premed students. There they study general sciences such as chemistry, biology, genetics, plus initial practice in hospitals, mainly in laboratories. Physics is also a compulsory subject for pre-med students. They study it for a year, 4 days a week.

Physics course for premed students - calculus based, i.e. based on the simplest elements of differential calculus. Elements of differential calculus are taught in American schools, in general, quite well, which absolutely cannot be said about physics. Physics in regular schools is studied for one year (though, again, 4 times a week), by choice. That is, you can choose either chemistry or physics, or both, but who is your own enemy? Therefore, many school graduates know nothing at all about physics.

Only after receiving a bachelor's degree can you enroll in Medical School. The competition at this faculty is so high that only those students who in the previous 4 years received either an A (A in American) or, in extreme cases, an A minus, are admitted. Having two or three Bs (B in American) means with a 99% probability that you can give up your medical career. That's why premeds fight for A's like crazy.

The beginning of the story

Our University has a large Faculty of Medicine, plus a Faculty of Biomedical Research and Technology. Accordingly, the number of pre-med students is large, and all of them must take a physics course and receive an appropriate mark. I usually teach courses for graduate students, but that year (about 9 years ago) something went wrong, and I - oh, my unfortunate lot - was sent to teach physics to future doctors. Back then I didn’t know what it was.

Just under 200 students signed up for my course. I had 16 assistants alone who conducted laboratory work and checked assignments (half were Chinese, with porridge in their mouths, which I will return to later). I understood that the average level of preparation of students would not be high, and therefore I began very slowly and in detail, with Newton’s laws in their simplest form. After the first test, two weeks later, I, one might say, fell into a panic. When the assistants brought the checked papers, I saw that about 25 people completed the task to one degree or another, at most 30. About 20 more completed it halfway, the rest did not write anything meaningful. Accordingly, 150 people received 3 or even 2.

The next day the marks were entered into the computer, and that's when the worst began. There was a line in front of my office. The students came in one after another and explained to me that their entire adult life they had dreamed of becoming a doctor and discovering a vaccine for cancer, but I, insensitive, killed their dream in one day, and they could not and would not live any longer. I'm a cold-blooded killer!

If I somehow managed to cope with young people (the main strategic point was not to show weakness, otherwise it would be the end), then with the girls it was a complete tragedy. Many began to cry. I can't stand women's tears. Well, that is, I can’t stand it at all. This makes me feel deeply depressed. Some, in addition to tears, before entering my office, unbuttoned an extra button, or even two. And one of them put a love card in my mailbox, which I, an idiot, even took at face value at first.

And this happened after every test. And after the exams (there were two of them: in the middle of the semester and at the end), the degree of emotional pressure went off scale beyond all measure. They began to complain about me that they did not understand the Chinese assistants because of their disgusting English. I met with my assistants once a week, explained to them what I wanted from them in the coming week, and what to pay special attention to. After complaining about bad pronunciation, I had a conflict with the Chinese. A couple of Chinese staged an Italian strike, i.e. Everything was done strictly according to the rules and very slowly. In practice, this meant that when 85% of my students reached the lab. Job No. 6, 15% stuck on third. Naturally, they began to complain about this.

All this does not mean that all 200 students took physics seriously. About 30-35 people, yes, they settled in, the rest only needed a high mark, they were not going to seriously change anything in their knowledge (or rather ignorance). These 30 people constantly came to me with questions that I was happy to answer.

I remember a young couple. They belonged to the community of Russian-Ukrainian Baptists. I like them all very much: they are hardworking, crystal honest, they do not drink alcohol or tobacco, they start a family early, and their families are strong. In Soviet times, they lived in some kind of bearish corners, they were persecuted in every possible way, and whole parishes of them moved to America. So these two (then they were 20 years old, but they were already married, an unheard of thing) worked like crazy, sat in the front row at lectures and looked into my mouth.

I remember one black girl from Nigeria. I don’t know what they were taught in Nigerian schools, but it was very difficult for her, she started practically from scratch, seemed hopeless to me, and by the end she was in the top ten. By the way, two years ago I met her on campus. She kissed me, thanked me and said that she was graduating from Medical School and would be a pediatrician.

Conclusion

By the middle of the semester, I began to have nightmares every night, of two types: 1) acutely erotic; 2) sophisticated thrillers on the theme “I come to see a doctor.” I come to the doctor, he is wearing scrubs and a mask on his face, he meets me in the office, listens to me and says: “Well, lie down, now we’ll see.” And the hands smoothly reach for the scalpel. The mask falls off and he whispers: “Do you remember, 15 years ago you gave me a C and they didn’t accept me into Medical School? I broke through anyway, at another university, and for you now the hour X is coming, the hour of Reckoning!” And the scalpel is getting closer and closer, floating over my helpless body, the executioner’s pupils are narrowing. And I wake up in a cold sweat.

By mid-November I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. And then there was a scandal: one girl tried to copy her sister’s exam paper. One of my assistants solved this case and set it in motion. This happens extremely rarely and is considered a major emergency.

In general, I went to the dean and said: “Do with me what you want, I will continue teaching this semester, but I will never teach doctors again. Do what you want." The dean looked at my consumptive eyes, burning with a gloomy light, and replied:

"Go with God, old man..."

Version authorized and corrected based on http://traveller2.livejournal.com/239990.html