My first day of AP Physics was a day fraught with anticipation and galore. The room was packed as I walked in and I made my way to an available seat in the rear corner. One’s immediate observation upon entry would have been the room’s blazing humidity—nearly 40 sweaty, densely-jumbled teenagers and not a single window of relief from the August sun. And then it began.
“Happy Monday, everybody!” interjected our instructor as he darted across the room. He then made his way to the front of the class and proceeded to elaborate upon the details of the class—the curriculum, the rigor, and the mentality required to excel. Physics, as conventionally known, is the study of the universe, the field of Einstein. For the first time in my 11 years of schooling, the mechanics of light, electricity, gravity, and sound were to be demystified.
A special emphasis was placed on the course’s learning curve. There would be plateaus and valleys; students would struggle a majority of the time before being able to effectively synthesize all of the information. These connections are called dendrites, as the instructor explained, and they occur when neurons connect across the synapse, bringing information to one’s brain cells.
As presumed, the class size dwindled down quickly within the first few weeks as students flocked out. The motivation required to succeed was exhausting, especially for one involved in numerous extra-curricular activities. It was my first year in an Advanced Placement class and therefore, my first year working at the collegiate level. I found myself staying after school for hours on end, seeking answers and explanations to the new concepts.
It was said that the best way to learn physics was to make mistakes. In doing so, I learned to manipulate numbers and variables in ways never imagined. Each number had meaning—a concrete, real-world significance and application. Indeed, it was my experience in AP Physics which broadened my mind and opened it to the wonder and fascination of science.
Albert Einstein has been quoted saying, “The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives.” The beauty of science is that its core principle is the pursuit of truth, using the power of the human acumen. It is only through cognition of the universe that one may marvel at the meticulous order of the macrocosm—even while taking into account the constantly-acting law of entropy descending upon all matter.
Science, in conjunction with anthropological context, allows one to see how far the human species has come. Mankind has not only walked on the moon, but successfully harnessed energy from the wind and the sun to craft tools of our disposition. It has only been a century since the Wright brothers became the first men to achieve airborne flight in 1903. Furthermore, physics allows mankind a scope of where humanity is headed. Will the universe suffer an inevitable heat death? Will it succumb to the Big Crunch theory? Or, in a closer approximation, it may be asked—will I live to witness the confirmation of a unified field theory?
In AP Physics, I struggled and I thrived. I found myself dismally attempting initial examinations, exerting tremendous effort to correctly answer the given problems, only to have one more test page left unanswered at the culmination of the period. By the end of the semester, I would finish my tests with a half-hour left to spare and receive scores ranging above 90. I ended the semester with an A+ in AP Physics, reflective of the efforts spent.
The Life of Tea 
Leave a comment