GEOMETRY WITH MRS.

SCHEFTER: Anthony Policastro

Dedicated to Mrs. Laura Schefter, geometry teacher, East Side High School, 1968

I reflected upon our colloquy at the breakfast table concerning Ashley’s

deficiency in comprehending geometry. I told Loretta that Ashley simply wasn’t
spending enough time on her studies. I then described my crowning and exemplary
moment when I was a student studying geometry with Mrs. Schefter at East Side High
School, Newark, in 1968. First of all, I should explicate that I was a straight-A student,
achieving high honors and the “supreme honor roll” every marking period, commencing
with the first day attending high school. Mr. McCabe, my homeroom teacher, in
homeroom 116, approached me, after the first marking period, and extended his hand.
“You’re the first student I’ve ever had in my homeroom to have made the honor
roll in the first marking period of his freshman year.” We were both beaming and while
we shook hands, I observed his wide grin, which was evident of his pride, and I have to
admit that I was more than a little pleased myself.
I was in my senior year by the time I had studied geometry with Mrs. Schefter,
who was, in my opinion, an excellent teacher. She was of middle age – perhaps, in her
late forties or early fifties. She wore a pair of pince-nez, giving her the appearance of a
prudent, priggish, and snobbish schoolmarm. She had brown hair, which she always
combed up and back away from her face. I thought she was lovely. She was kind, fair,
patient, firm, and dignified in her relations with students and peers, and she simply loved
teaching geometry.
The incident I shall describe occurred toward the end of the academic year. The
seniors were preparing for graduation and the honor society was preparing for its honor
assembly where the officers of the society have an opportunity to deliver a speech before
the entire population of the school. I was selected to deliver a speech emphasizing
“community activities.”
The incident in question occurred on a Friday and began with Mrs. Schefter’s
homework assignment, which I was expected to complete over the weekend. The
assignment consisted of completing a succession of proofs and theorems. At first, this
appeared to be a rather simple assignment and many students would therefore postpone
doing their homework until the last minute – Sunday night. However, I was never one to
procrastinate when given an assignment. Therefore, after supper, I immediately went to
my bedroom, closed the door, sat down at my desk, and started my homework. I
completed all of my homework, leaving geometry for last, though it was one of my
favorite subjects. I was breezing through the geometry when I suddenly came to a
problem that stunned and surprised me with its complexity. It was the last problem in the
assignment, and after fifteen minutes, I realized that this was no ordinary geometry
problem. I reconsidered the information that was “given” to us, and studied the
“conclusion,” in other words, what I had to prove. As wont in all geometry problems, I
was expected to complete the body of the proof, using the properties and theorems I had
studied, memorized by heart, and proved in previous lessons. Usually, geometry
problems aren’t too difficult to solve, especially if you follow one simple rule: all you
have to do is to apply what you have previously learned about properties – associative
properties, for instance - and theorems, like the Pythagoras Theorem – C square equals A
square plus B square, and, therefore, C, the hypotenuse, equals the square root of A
square plus B square – to the problem in front of you and you will be surprised to
discover just how easy it is to arrive at a solution. I thought this was easy enough to

1
GEOMETRY WITH MRS. SCHEFTER: Anthony Policastro
Dedicated to Mrs. Laura Schefter, geometry teacher, East Side High School, 1968

understand, yet this last problem turned out to be a juggernaut. By nine o’clock that
evening, I had become obsessed with solving the problem and yet, I still hadn’t solved it.
By now, my mathematical logic had become weary and circuitous. So, I stopped for a
few minutes and when I had regained my sangfroid, I returned to my geometry problem
and worked until twelve midnight, crumbling and throwing scraps of paper, on which I
had scribbled inchoate proofs, into the wastepaper basket next to my desk. My proofs
lead to dead ends.
By twelve, I was thoroughly exhausted, and closed my geometry book rather
reluctantly. I decided that what I needed was a good night’s sleep, and a fresh start in the
morning, ideally, right after breakfast. Everyone in the house had already gone to bed,
and I did the same. However, as I lay there in bed, my mind couldn’t rest. It continued to
contemplate possible solutions to the geometry problem. It occurred to me that I was not
approaching the problem in a manner that would allow me to succeed. I realized that I
had to look at it from a completely different angle, from outside the box. Moreover, I had
to approach the problem, methodically, using a process of trial and error and elimination,
until I arrived at, perhaps, one of several possible proofs. I slept restlessly all night,
tossing and turning, thinking about how I might approach this problem – a problem that I
had left unfinished, and which ran against my very nature - from a different point of view
or angle. I’m the type of person that likes to solve problems and get results. I simply had
to solve this geometry problem! I couldn’t wait till morning, till the arrival of Homer’s
rosy-fingered dawn. I would have pulled an all-nighter, but I realized that I had to get
some sleep, especially, if I wanted to solve this profound, and perplexing problem.
Saturday morning, after consuming a hardy breakfast, I immediately sat at my
desk and resumed my efforts. Now, applying a method of trial and error and elimination,
I spent hours working, methodically, through a succession of proofs. This time, I kept the
scraps of paper and created a record of failed proofs, so I wouldn’t waste time proving
them again. At twelve o’clock, I stopped momentarily for a light luncheon, which my
mother had prepared for me. She knew I was consumed by my study of geometry and
was more than a little supportive.
Then, I worked all afternoon, until my mother called me to the dinner table. After
dinner, I resumed my problem-solving work, preparing another succession of proofs that
failed to support the desired conclusion. By nine o’clock that night, I closed the book for
the evening, and feeling somewhat discouraged and frustrated, I thought that, perhaps, I
didn’t have the mental capacity to solve this geometry problem; that, perhaps, it was
beyond my reach.
On Sunday morning, after consuming another hardy breakfast, I attended the
eight-thirty mass at our Lady of Mount Carmel Church, and during the mass, it occurred
to me that time was running short. This was the last day of the weekend and if I didn’t
solve the problem, today, then I would never solve it.
Upon returning home, I closed the door of my study, and resumed my work. I was
obsessed with the problem and, by now, totally discouraged. I was ready to “throw in the
towel,” “call it quits,” when at six o’clock – forty-eight hours after I was first confronted
with this mind-bending exercise – I had suddenly solved it. Yes! I had solved it! When I
had first arrived at the solution, I didn’t even realize that I had, indeed, solved the
problem. In fact, I didn’t believe it. I sat there for a few minutes feeling, simultaneously,
numb, exhausted, and exhilarated. I went back to my proof and checked it several times,

2
GEOMETRY WITH MRS. SCHEFTER: Anthony Policastro
Dedicated to Mrs. Laura Schefter, geometry teacher, East Side High School, 1968

thinking that, perhaps, I had made a mistake. But, I was surprised, and filled with
celestial joy when I realized that my proof was correct. It was a hell of a complex
problem and I had solved it! The joy of solving the problem was so great that I could not
prevent myself from shouting, “I did it! I did it!” It occurred to me that if I had been
playing a part in a Greek drama, written by Aristotle or one of the other classical writers,
then I would have experienced a peripeteia, with an accompanying anagnorisis. My hands
were shaking as I made a copy of the proof and laid it safely in the top drawer of my
desk. I then carefully placed the original proof in the section of my notebook dedicated to
geometry. By now, the endorphins were exploding in my head, and suddenly, I felt
absolutely great, as if I had solved a major problem of the world.
But, of course, I hadn’t solved a major problem of the world. What I had done
was to solve a geometry problem, perhaps, a simple geometry problem, that only
appeared to be complex and really wasn’t. I started wondering that perhaps, I wasn’t as
intelligent or smart as I thought I was. For instance, I asked myself the question: how
long did it take me to solve the geometry problem? It took me forty-eight hours, or 2,880
minutes or 172,800 seconds to arrive at a suitable and accurate solution. A child prodigy
or a genius, of course, would have solved the problem in less than a minute or less than
sixty seconds.
A prodigy child is someone with extraordinary perspicuity. Someone who sees
patterns, points of connectivity, where others see nothing but chaos, pandemonium,
confusion, random elements, or a misty fog. Based on my weekend experience, tackling
one of the most difficult geometry problems I had ever encountered in my academic
career, and solving the problem after forty-eight hours, I concluded, despite the fact that I
was on the supreme honor roll, that I was not a star or prodigy child, or a genius. Then,
what made the difference? How did I do it? After a considerable time of rumination of
the subject, I realized that what made the difference was my “determination,” and
“desire.” In other words, the idea of “giving up” was the farthest thing from my mind. It
never occurred to me to give up. I was determined to solve this problem no matter how
long it took me, and I did.
On Monday morning, when I reported to class, I was thoroughly disheartened
when Mrs. Schefter assigned this juggernaut of a geometry problem – I was beginning to
think of it as my very own - to Carmine Fig. He was expected to write out his proof on
the blackboard and then explain it to the class. I was more than a little nervous and
anxious, but I knew that Carmine was clueless and could never, in a million years, have
solved this problem. I watched as he stepped up to the blackboard and went through the
motions, writing out the problem, but failing to include the proof. Mrs. Schefter then
proceeded to check his work and when she saw that it was incomplete, she turned to
Carmine and said, “Where is your proof? You’ve left out the most important part.”
Carmine shrugged his shoulders and said, “I couldn’t solve it.” That was all he
said and then he returned to his desk. Now, Mrs. Schefter, standing before the class,
looked over the geometry problem with the intentions of solving it extemporaneously.
She stared at it for a long time, and then, she realized its level of complexity was beyond
the mental capacity of the members of my class, unless, of course, one of us was a
prodigy child or a genius. She was, I thought, thoroughly stumped.
“This is a peculiar problem,” she said profoundly, staring at the blackboard.

3
GEOMETRY WITH MRS. SCHEFTER: Anthony Policastro
Dedicated to Mrs. Laura Schefter, geometry teacher, East Side High School, 1968

Then, I thought, my moment had arrived. I raised my hand and said, “Mrs.
Schefter.” She turned to look at me, and furrowed her eyebrows.
“Yes, Mr. P, what is it?” She seemed somewhat annoyed, because I had disrupted
her concentration.
“Mrs. Schefter, I have a solution to the problem which I believe accurately proves
the theorem in question. It’s a rather lengthly proof, but I would be more than pleased to
recite it for you and the class.”
She smiled, “Proceed, Mr. P.”
I then proceeded to recite, verbatim, the proof I had arrived at after forty-eight
hours of intense study and contemplation. Mrs. Schefter was more than a little stunned
and flabbergasted and I have to acknowledge that it was my “crowning moment” in
geometry class. Of course, I had received straight A’s.
But there was something more important than receiving straight A’s. This
occurrence – the solving of this juggernaut of a geometry problem in Mrs. Schefter’s
geometry class – reminded me of the scientific method of research and study, and the
significance of seeing patterns in nature, mathematics, biology, chemistry, and physics.
The prodigy child and genius could easily see patterns and solve problems, and I envied
them for their mental ability. I imagined a light bulb turning on in his or her head, and at
that precise, precious moment – at the moment of anagnorisis – everything becomes
crystal clear, and begins to make sense to them. Suddenly, the prodigy child – a future
research scientist - sees the logic and the pattern, as the fog instantly evaporates from the
mind’s eye, revealing scientific and universal truths about nature. I imagined how Pasteur
or Einstein, and others must have felt – their exhaustion and exhilaration - at their
moment of understanding. I have no doubt that there are scientists today who are laboring
to disperse the fog and mist, to recognize the patterns of life, and to solve medical
problems involving cancer, Parkinson, Alzheimer, and others. I’ve always thought that
the answer lies in nature, as if the laws of nature were a puzzle and was waiting for
someone to come along and put it together. Perhaps, the next star child will be gifted
enough to see the patterns, connect the dots, and solve the puzzles and mysteries of
science. Perhaps, you are that next star child.