Suddenly, now that I have 

time to think, 

things aren’t 

the same 

anymore. 

Suddenly, things that 

were factual, 

aren’t. 

Or

things that were fringe are

mainstream. 

Case in point:

Pangea.

“No, of course the continents

were never all 

hooked together,”

my fifth grade teacher snorted. 

Even though we looked 

at a map

and

could see the edges

of a potential

supercontinent

hiding

in plain sight. 

Were there things 

that were 

true

that were

not what

we were not

taught?

Unsettling

for a ten-year-old

who then read 

“Search for a Living Fossil”

in Wide Horizons

about some 

fishermen in

Madagascar 

who’ve been hauling the

Coelacanth 

out of

their deep waters for years,

maybe centuries. 

grey fish on blue textile
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

“Wait, wait!

Aren’t the dinosaurs 

extinct?” I cried.

“Wasn’t it a meteor

or a change in the earth’s axis

or an extreme temperature shift

that caused

them all to disappear?”

other sponges asked. 

“They’re all extinct,”

answered the 

experts.

And we wanted to 

believe them,

like we believed in

Santa Claus and

his friend, the rabbit. 

Now, I wonder,

what else have we believed?

Wait! You mean DNA isn’t

fixed? 

Genes can be 

turned on

or off

based on experiences?

I have control

of my genetic makeup?

Unsettling for 

a retiree

who wonders

what next?

Is the world round?

And what is science, anyway?

And what pretends to be science 

because it’s couched in

statistics and studies,

research and data,

but is propped up by pillows 

stuffed with 

sponsors and bias and money?

No wonder fifth graders

are confused. 

I’m confused

by this Post Truth

world

where everyone has taken 

aim,

at power,

money,

and camouflage

themselves

with the elements

of

rhetoric 

that I taught so well

to so many 

students. 

But will

young people

recognize

the fallacies 

that we had to skim 

in order to 

have time for the last speech or 

to prepare

for the state test?

Or will they accept

and deny

without

asking the

tough questions

of adults who

are also confused

or blind

or cutting the edge?

Was I my fifth grade 

teacher?

Did I ever have all

the answers?

Who possibly

could?


Discover more from Barbara Swander Miller

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Posted in

Leave a comment