Margie even wrote about it that night in her diary. On the page headed May 17, 2157, she wrote, 'Today Tommy found a real book!'
It was a very old book. Margie's grandfather once said that when he was a little boy his grandfather told him that there was a time when all stories were printed on paper.
They turned the pages, which were yellow and crinkly, and it was awfully funny to read words that stood still instead of moving the way they were supposed to - on a screen, you know. And then, when they turned back to the page before, it had the same words on it that it had had when they read it the first time.
'Gee', said Tommy, 'what a waste. When you are through with the book, you must throw it away, I guess. Our television screen must have had a million books on it and it's good for plenty more. I wouldn't throw it away.'
'Same with mine', said Margie. She was eleven and hadn't seen as many textbooks as Tommy had. He was thirteen.
She said, 'Where did you find it?'
'In my house.' He pointed without looking, because he was busy reading. 'In the attic.'
'What's it about?'
'School.'
Margie was scornful. 'School? What's there to write about school? I hate school.'
Margie always hated school, but now she hated it more than ever. The mechanical teacher had been giving her test after test in geography and she had been doing worse and worse until her mother had shaken her head sorrowfully and sent for the County Inspector. ...
She said to Tommy, 'Why would anyone write about school?'
Tommy looked at her with very superior eyes. 'Because it's not our kind of school, stupid. This is the old kind of school that they had hundred of years ago.' He added loftily, pronouncing the word carefully, 'Centuries ago.'
Margie was hurt. 'Well, I don't know what kind of school they had all that time ago.' She read the book over his shoulder for a while, then said, 'Anyway, they had a teacher.'
'Sure they had a teacher, but it wasn't a regular teacher. It was a man.'
'A man? How could a man be a teacher?'
'Well, he just told the boys and girls things and gave them homework and asked them questions.'
'A man isn't smart enough.'
'Sure he is. My father knows as much as my teacher.'
'He can't. A man can't know as much as a teacher.'
'He knows almost as much, I betcha.'
Margie wasn't prepared to dispute that. She said, 'I wouldn't want a strange man in my house to teach me.'
Tommy screamed with laughter.
'You don't know much, Margie. The teacher didn't live in the house. They had a special building and all the kids went there.'
'And all the kids learnt the same thing?'
'Sure, if they were the same age.'
'But my mother says a teacher has to be adjusted to fit the mind of each boy and girl it teaches and that each kid has to be taught differently.'
'Just the same they didn't do it that way then. If you don't like it, you don't have to read the book.'
'I didn't say I didn't like it,' Margie said quickly. She wanted to read about those funny schools.
They weren't even half finished when Margie's mother called, 'Margie! School!'
Margie lokked up. 'Not yet, Mamma.'
'Now!' said Mrs. Jones. 'And it's probably time for Tommy, too.'
Margie said to Tommy, 'Can I read the book some more with you after school?'
'Maybe,' he said nonchalantly. He walked away whistling, the duty old book tucked beneath his arm.
Margie went into the schoolroom. It was right next to her bedroom, and the mechanical teacher was on and waiting for her. It was always on at the same time every day except Saturday and Sunday, because her mother said little girls learned better if they learned at regular hours.
The screen was lit up, and it said: 'Today's arithmetic lesson is on the addition of proper fractions. Please insert yesterday's homework in the proper slot.'
Margie did so with a sigh. She was thinking about the old schools they had when her grandfather's grandfather was a little boy. All the kids from the whole neighborhood came, laughing, and shouting in the schoolyard, sitting together in the schoolroom, going home together at the end of the day. They learned the same things, so they could help one another on the homework and talk about it.
And the teachers were people...
The mechanical teacher was flashing on the screen: 'When we add the fractions 1/2 and 1/4...'
Margie was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking abaout the fun they had.
Assignments:
It was a very old book. Margie's grandfather once said that when he was a little boy his grandfather told him that there was a time when all stories were printed on paper.
They turned the pages, which were yellow and crinkly, and it was awfully funny to read words that stood still instead of moving the way they were supposed to - on a screen, you know. And then, when they turned back to the page before, it had the same words on it that it had had when they read it the first time.
'Gee', said Tommy, 'what a waste. When you are through with the book, you must throw it away, I guess. Our television screen must have had a million books on it and it's good for plenty more. I wouldn't throw it away.'
'Same with mine', said Margie. She was eleven and hadn't seen as many textbooks as Tommy had. He was thirteen.
She said, 'Where did you find it?'
'In my house.' He pointed without looking, because he was busy reading. 'In the attic.'
'What's it about?'
'School.'
Margie was scornful. 'School? What's there to write about school? I hate school.'
Margie always hated school, but now she hated it more than ever. The mechanical teacher had been giving her test after test in geography and she had been doing worse and worse until her mother had shaken her head sorrowfully and sent for the County Inspector. ...
She said to Tommy, 'Why would anyone write about school?'
Tommy looked at her with very superior eyes. 'Because it's not our kind of school, stupid. This is the old kind of school that they had hundred of years ago.' He added loftily, pronouncing the word carefully, 'Centuries ago.'
Margie was hurt. 'Well, I don't know what kind of school they had all that time ago.' She read the book over his shoulder for a while, then said, 'Anyway, they had a teacher.'
'Sure they had a teacher, but it wasn't a regular teacher. It was a man.'
'A man? How could a man be a teacher?'
'Well, he just told the boys and girls things and gave them homework and asked them questions.'
'A man isn't smart enough.'
'Sure he is. My father knows as much as my teacher.'
'He can't. A man can't know as much as a teacher.'
'He knows almost as much, I betcha.'
Margie wasn't prepared to dispute that. She said, 'I wouldn't want a strange man in my house to teach me.'
Tommy screamed with laughter.
'You don't know much, Margie. The teacher didn't live in the house. They had a special building and all the kids went there.'
'And all the kids learnt the same thing?'
'Sure, if they were the same age.'
'But my mother says a teacher has to be adjusted to fit the mind of each boy and girl it teaches and that each kid has to be taught differently.'
'Just the same they didn't do it that way then. If you don't like it, you don't have to read the book.'
'I didn't say I didn't like it,' Margie said quickly. She wanted to read about those funny schools.
They weren't even half finished when Margie's mother called, 'Margie! School!'
Margie lokked up. 'Not yet, Mamma.'
'Now!' said Mrs. Jones. 'And it's probably time for Tommy, too.'
Margie said to Tommy, 'Can I read the book some more with you after school?'
'Maybe,' he said nonchalantly. He walked away whistling, the duty old book tucked beneath his arm.
Margie went into the schoolroom. It was right next to her bedroom, and the mechanical teacher was on and waiting for her. It was always on at the same time every day except Saturday and Sunday, because her mother said little girls learned better if they learned at regular hours.
The screen was lit up, and it said: 'Today's arithmetic lesson is on the addition of proper fractions. Please insert yesterday's homework in the proper slot.'
Margie did so with a sigh. She was thinking about the old schools they had when her grandfather's grandfather was a little boy. All the kids from the whole neighborhood came, laughing, and shouting in the schoolyard, sitting together in the schoolroom, going home together at the end of the day. They learned the same things, so they could help one another on the homework and talk about it.
And the teachers were people...
The mechanical teacher was flashing on the screen: 'When we add the fractions 1/2 and 1/4...'
Margie was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking abaout the fun they had.
Assignments:
1. WRITE a 100 word summary of the story in your own words. You may decide to do it in English or Spanish. Your effort to express yourself in English will always be valued by the teacher.
- Margie was thinking about the School of 100 years ago, Margie was thinking during the classe while the machine chatted on Mathematics.. The class ended and she went fastly to search the book that it chatted about the school.
·Margie: Tommy, Tommy!
·Tommy: What happend?
·Margie: Where is the book?
·Tommy: The book is under the bed.
Margie went to the bedroom, she catched the book and she started to read: "The school is very boring, the mayority of the boys are very stupid and today I have to do a lot of exercise! I would like that a machine give me a class in my house" Margie was surprised. She didn´t know what to say.
2. ANSWER the questions below. The more you say, the better.
a. What did Margie and Tommy find unusual about the old book?
- She finds the teachers are persons.
b. What is school like in the year 2157 and how different from today's schools do you think it is?
-The difference is that in the year 2157 the teachers are machine and the classes are given in a house.
c. Do you think that the Internet and technology will one day lead to such a school as described in the story?
-I think technology will improve education but People will never change by machines.
d. Where or who do you think people learn more from: school, parents,
modern media, friends, reading books privately? Give reasons.
-At school because the teachers are prepared to teach children.
e. What
do you think are the most serious shortcomings in Spanish schools/this school and what could be done about it?
-I think the Bachiller is very short, it should be longer for us to prepare well for the university.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario