The Last Day of Class

The Last Day of Class

“Imagination is more important than knowledge.  Do you know who said that?”

The class was silent.  Some students shook their heads, others looked around to see if someone else knew what they didn’t, and others didn’t even hear the question over the sound of their daydreams.  This was a rare instance when Mr. Allen was pleased to see his students perplexed, because it meant he got to do the big reveal.

“It was Albert Einstein.  Ever heard of him?” he said through grinning teeth.  He paused to let the students contemplate and respond.  A quiet girl named Susan with frizzy hair raised her hand cautiously.

“Yes Susan.”

“But wasn’t Albert Einstein really smart?  Didn’t he have a lot of knowledge?” she whispered.

“Well, yes Susan, but I think the point is that you need both.  It’s important to have knowledge but without imagination, your knowledge will only take you so far.  There were a lot of knowledgable scientist’s around at the same time as Einstein, but what separated them from him, was that he also had the imagination.  And that’s what I want you guys to think about when you’re doing your final projects.  Of course you should employ the techniques and principles that we’ve studied throughout the semester, but you should also use your imagination.”

Mr. Allen studied the faces in the classroom for signs of an intellectual breakthrough.  They all looked rather as they had five minutes before, but maybe they just needed more time to let the words sink in, and so he prodded them, “think about that.”  Another student raised his hand, this one excitedly, “Mr Allen,” he said.

“Yes Charles?”

“Can I go to the bathroom.”

“Not now Charles, we’re almost at the end of class.  Do you have any thoughts on what we’ve been talking about?”

“You mean the Einstein thing?”

“Yes Charles.”

“Well.  I dunno.  That’s the guy with the crazy hair, right?  I’m not sure we ought to be listening to a nut like that.”

“He’s far from a nut, Charles, he was one of the the most brilliant scientists who’s ever lived and made some of the most important discoveries in the history of the world.”

“But if he was brilliant himself, why’s he bashing on knowledge.”

“He’s not bashing on knowledge, Charles.  You’re missing the point, didn’t you hear what I just said to Susan?”  Mr. Allen looked over at Susan who was doodling in her notebook and back to Charles who had already started doodling in his.  Mr. Allen felt the onset of a panic attack, but Charlotte, the most promising student in the class, raised her hand as if she sensed his anxiety and knew how to relieve it.

“Yes Charlotte, please contribute.”

“So, Einstein’s telling us that imagination is more important than knowledge, but if we take what’s he’s telling us as fact just because he says it, then we wouldn’t really be using our imaginations would we?  I think Einstein would want us to not listen to him and just use our imaginations instead.”

The anxiety set in again.  “Well, I’m not sure that’s exactly it, Charlotte, but it’s an interesting take, and most importantly your giving it some good thought.  All of you should do the same.”  The class collectively groaned, praise for Charlotte was never welcomed without resistance.  As Mr. Allen hurried back to his desk, fearful he might faint if he didn’t take a seat, a crumpled piece of paper flew anonymously from the back of the room and grazed Charlotte’s head.  She didn’t bother to turn around, she’d had worse things thrown at her in class before.  Charles raised his hand again.

“No Charles, you still can’t go to the bathroom.”

“No that’s not it, Mr. Allen, it’s about the quote.”

“Oh, ok.  Go ahead then.”

“What if my imagination told me that for my final project I should hand in a blank sheet of paper.  Would that be ok?  I mean, it is imaginative.”

“Well Charles, if the paper was totally blank, I wouldn’t know it was your project, would I?  You’d have to at least write your name on it, wouldn’t you?  But no, Charles, that would not be ok.  You would get an F on your project.”

“Oh, I’m glad I asked.  Also, can I go to the bathroom?”

Mr. Allen sighed and closed his eyes hoping to alleviate the nausea.  Ending the semester with such a profound message was supposed to inspire his students and hopefully produce some interesting final projects, but with just a few minutes left in the class, there was nothing left he could do for these kids. 

“You know what, Charles, yes, you can go to the bathroom.  You can all go to the bathroom if you like, because class is dismissed.  Remember that your projects are due a week from today by 3:00 p.m.  Thank you for a productive semester, and good luck moving forward.”

A spattering of applause let out in the classroom, the loudest of which, by far, came from Charlotte.  Charles, having packed his bag in advance, bolted the moment he heard, “dismissed.”  Mr. Allen sat with his chin resting on his knuckles and watched the kids scrambling from the room like they were running from a fire.  When the commotion ended, only Charlotte remained.

“Mr. Allen, is it possible for me to write an extra credit paper to supplement my final project?  A paper on the importance of imagination.”

“No Charlotte, it’s not possible, but it’s an imaginative idea.  Please close the door on your way out.”