Despite its relative utility, chemistry never held much sway. Instead of chemical compounds and balanced equations, I preferred studying the subjunctive tense for être and avoir, or drawing the shape of parabolic curves, or studying the machinations of medieval European princes. Even looking at plant cells seemed more interesting than mixing chemicals.
Admittedly, some of my classmates saw things differently. Walk into a French, Algebra, or History classroom, and the setting is sedate and similar: rows of desks, facing a blackboard. Walk into a chemistry classroom, and the mood is one of potential and excitement: Bunsen burners, microscopes, lab coats, test tubes, fire extinguishers, and an emergency chemical-bath. As one of the Chemistry teachers liked to boast, “You can’t die in English class.”
And yet, all I could muster up was a stifled yawn. Chemistry …
