A couple of weeks ago, in Chem 27, there were no pens clicking at least for the first 10 minutes of lecture. I was very heartened to have had one of the most enlightening experiences at Harvard in the two years I have been here. Professor Stuart Schreiber had requested feedback regarding the course, as a midterm sort of evaluation, and deemed it necessary to share the reponses he received with the rest of the class.

Much as a political candidate might, Professor Schreiber explained his platform and goals for the class, emphasizing the learning process involved, and learning process involved, and promising to revise certain aspects of the class according to students 'needs' "Someone Stew goes a little fast," he read to us one of the responses with amusement. He explained that this was a consequence of feedback he got last year, which claimed the class was a mite slow. He promised to pace the course better.

Another common complaint was that the course has no textbook and it would seem that the class has a rather narrow scope. Professor Schreiber proceeded to explain where the class is going--what is intrinsically special and interesting about each individual, and seeming about each individual, and seemingly esoteric, protein we will be studying the next few lectures, and how they all fit into the larger picture.

He furthermore apologized for unintentional insensitivity towards a particular student who asked him a question after class. Regarding a recommendation to answer question during the last few minutes of class, Professor Schreiber offered to clarify material in the seven minutes allotted between the chimes of Mem Church's bells and official Harvard class starting time at seven past the wee hour of the morning, when many other students are still immersed in delta sleep.

He ended on the recurring theme of note-taking difficulties. This class, in particular, requires many precisely-positioned and accurate geometrical structures drawn in, what many students deem as necessary the vast colors of the visible spectrum. The reason still eludes me, since I had tired it for a short time earlier in the year and saw no benefit; on the contrary, I found myself distracted and mesmerized by the aesthetics, rather than the content, of my notes.

He explained the intrinsic difficulties of teaching such a course and not making at least one mistake in the drawings. The Professor ended by reading the student comment, "it's good that you sometimes make blackboard mistakes, it makes us feel human."

Orgo notoriously has been the nemesis of many a pre-med, undeservedly becoming associated with, and perhaps even epitomized as, all that is hateful about the road to medical school. Question such as, "Do we need to know this for the exam," (and if you don't you can promptly proceed to evacuate it from your mind) are not uncommon in a class where so much material has to be assimilated in a very narrow range of time, and for a letter grade which might prove a detriment to a model transcript. This competitive attitude is the basis of non-pre-med resentment towards pre-meds at large, and provides fodder for the stereotype that all premeds are taking the course not for its inherently interesting subject material but solely for its stepping one-to-med-school value.

At least there was a textbook in the reaction-laden Chem 17, and the theory-emphasized 20-30 sequence. But here, lo, there is no text. The diligent orgo student is dazed and confused--how can I regurgitate the information if I have no text?

Professor Schreiber shows us that Orgo can be fun, once you can get past the necessary memorization, once you have true understanding. You begin to develop a fascination with how life is built, using your previously-acquired morass of knowledge to appreciate the processes that so miraculously make up your efficient system.

Moreover, you learn one dull Wednesday morning that you are not just another vessel for empty information in a large undergraduate crowd shuffled off from the main thrust of a University purportedly catering to its graduate students and research-conducting professors. You are not a student conditioned to aloof professors, confusing lectures, competitive classmates, a systematic process of translation-memorization-regurgitation-evacuation. You are a human being too--not just a note and test-taking machine, capable of equal fascination with The Mechanism and potential contribution to the field.

I felt human and understood not only because Professors Schreiber can make mistakes sometimes but also because he acknowledges this and furthermore acknowledges that teaching should be and is, in his class, a flexible, friendly,interactive, and learning process between student and professor. This recharging experience reminded me why I love the sciences, and why I am very glad that I am an undergraduate here. Valerie Goldburt '96