Temple University School of Medicine - Skull Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

Page 21 text:

“You’ve got me” realized that the quiz—short or long, announced or unannounced, written or oral—is an integral part of a philosophy of pedagogy here at Temple, seen in all departments in all four years; it is a way to keep all hut the most lethargic students in a perpetual state of hyperchlorhydria, tachycardia, and hv-peradrenalism—ignoring the teachings of Sclye. Had we the wisdom of professors and deans, we should have realized also that our protoplasm is inherently lazy, and our mettle never adequately tested; we should then have realized that this business of learning to he a physician was not a job of mean dimension, to he trusted all to our lazy selves. We didn't realize or even care: spring soothed our abraded psyches; only finals separated us from the sophomore year.

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ttr i We all got “SY “It’s obvious . . .” we all learned what it took to sublimate and harness our ids; numbers of wives arrived for these sessions, and several of us were moved to start planning for old age. With our schedule already bulging with chemistry, anatomy, fraternity parties, and dances, the Powers added Physiology at the second semester. With inadequately filled pens, we awaited Dr. Esther Grcisheimer on the first day; her greeting was, “Now, children, we shall discuss the physiology of the nervous system. We looked around and started to write. More muscles became hypertrophied. Correlation was achieved with anatomic facts, and the race had hit a new pace. We were given some practical information on the special senses, and some information on the cardiovascular system, some of which was good, some had, and some useful. And, suddenly, spring was in the air; the last series of lectures—on renal physiology—was before us. Given by Dr. Morton Oppenheimer, they were probably among the best we heard that (or any other) year. Organized well, and brilliantly explained, these lectures inevitably covered the material beyond our immediate scope. We were basking in this when the low blow struck— an unannounced exam, the day of the last scheduled lecture. Yes, to be counted—an important part of the now considerably lowered final grades. If we were academically asleep, this should have wakened us. If we were alert, we should have realized the portent this incident had in our future dealings with the department next year. If we had stopped and thought, we might have ‘You got the wrong end of the box!”

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“One must learn by doing the thing; for though you think you know it, you have no certainty until you try. Sophocles