Snapshot From RHS: Boys and Girls Solve All Kinds of Equations

There’s a pi symbol next to the name “Ms. Snyder” outside the door to Room 211. Inside, desks are arranged in groups of four, and wallet-sized pictures of students dot two tan file cabinets. Math-positive sayings like “We all use math every day” line the walls. Students in Geometry review for the upcoming midterm.

“I want you to get through three cycles today,” Ms. Snyder says to the class. “You’ve got about four more minutes for what you’re working on.”

Ms. Snyder stands by a red nylon curtain with clear plastic pouches, each pouch containing an index card with a student’s name on it. The pouches come in four columns: Task, Communication, Resource, and Participation. She wears a gray Renton X-C sweatshirt and a black and white skirt.

A mylar balloon tied to a pink plastic gift bag bounces against a window in the back.

Three boys – one in a gray vest, pink polo, and plaid fedora; one in a white V-neck and leather jacket with plastic zipper; and a third with a hemp necklace and T-shirt with a bald eagle on it – sit in a group and banter.

Plaid Fedora, reading off paper: Rewrite the following statements as conditional statements.

Plastic Zipper: So... if the grass grows, then the sun shines.

Bald Eagle: All monkeys climb trees. So if it’s a monkey, then it climbs trees.

Fedora: If three points are collinear, then they lie on the same line.

“This station is going to be short,” Ms. Snyder says. “You’ve got about one minute and then we switch. Get as far into it as you can.”

Eagle: I don’t get it.

Fedora: Complementary pairs equal ninety. Supplementary pairs equal one-eighty. And if they are a linear pair, then they’re supplementary.

Zipper: Something I’m actually good at... for once.

Eagle: I don’t get it. What’s up with the order?

Zipper: Just copy it down.

Eagle: But I don’t get it.

Zipper: Copy. It. Down.

Eagle: She’s making us copy it in order so we’ll remember the order.

At a table nearby, a girl asks Ms. Snyder, “How do you do it? It has to add up to 180.”

“How do you do the algebra, or how do you solve the equation?” Ms. Snyder replies.

The girl answers with an upward inflection, unsure. “How do you solve the equation, I guess?”

Ms. Snyder gets on one knee, eye level with the girl and the girl’s tablemates. “That’s a good question,” she says, “and I’m going to leave you with it. I know this group of smart women can work through it. I’ll be back in a minute to see how it’s going.”

At the one all-boys table, Eagle, Zipper, and Fedora continue bantering.

Eagle: It’s Q to P.

Zipper: It’s P to Q.

Eagle: No, it’s Q to P, and I’m going to get my notes to prove it.

Zipper: You’re going to prove yourself wrong by doing that. Just so you know.

Eagle: I’m going to prove myself right.

Zipper: Suit yourself.

Eagle rummages through backpack.

Eagle, slapping spiral notebook on table: BOOM. P to Q.

Zipper: You said Q to P.

Eagle: I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.

Zipper: I noticed.

Eagle: Gimme a break.

Zipper: That’s worth a kick in the shin.

Fedora, to Plastic Zipper: Remember? You’re the Communication Manager.

Zipper: It might be worth two kicks in the shin.

Eagle: You’re not going to let this go?

Zipper: We need hour and a half classes. That’s what I miss about Liberty. You. actually had time to get things done... and only four classes a day.

Eagle: I don’t want to be kicked.

“Okay,” Ms. Snyder says. “Change stations.”

Students move counter-clockwise to the next cluster of desks. I follow the triad of boys to their next station.

Eagle: Now what?

Zipper: You divide the three by three.

Eagle: No, you divide the twelve by three.

Fedora: It’s three by three this time. And can I say? I love my outfit.

Note: This column is a cross-section, a slice of life, a glimpse into the ordinary and sometimes surprising moments that happen at the real Renton High School. It is not comprehensive. Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of students.