Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2012 19:47:52 GMT -5
Consider the function y(x) = (x + 2)3. Differentiate this function (without multiplying out the brackets).
Kiviuq stared at the question, his right hand wielding a freshly sharpened pencil while the other contained a new eraser. The boy had well... started to learn calculus from the limited amount of books that he had up north, but that was without proper instruction. Coupled with the fact that Kiviuq had entered the school year at an awkward time, he was simply tossed in the middle of a course. In this case, it was sink or swim.
... Kiviuq didn't really like swimming. He also wasn't the largest fan of math. He remembered something about derivatives and the power rule... but... oh what was it? Something to do with the exponents? Yeah... wasn't he supposed to move one around or something? Kiviuq closed his eyes, trying to rake his brain for answers. He couldn't concentrate too hard. If he did... well, Kiviuq just hoped that his test paper didn't spontaneously combust from his focus.
After a moment of thinking, the answer came to the Inuit boy. Right! He needed to move the exponent to the front of the equation, then subtract one from the exponent! Moving to write the answer out, Kiviuq put his pencil down with a small smile before it snapped in half in his grip. The sound echoed around the classroom, causing a few students to look up. Kiviuq swallowed once. No problem, he had four others that were sharpened and ready to use. Carefully setting the two shattered pieces down, Kiviuq reached for the next pencil, but his butterfingers bumped the base of the pencil, causing it to roll off the desk and before Kiviuq could could catch it, clatter on the floor loudly. The tanned boy physically winced as he felt the teacher's gaze bore into him. Pretending nothing happened, Kiviuq quickly latched onto his third pencil and held it tightly, but not tight enough to snap it. This time, he'd most definitely write down his answer and move on to the next question.
Placing his pencil on the page, he started to write a '3' when he accidentally got bumped from behind, when a student got up to hand their page in. The result was an ugly black streak that made its way from the middle of Kiviuq's page to the top. Kiviuq sighed, but there was nothing to worry about, right? He had an eraser in case this sort of thing happened. Bringing his right hand forward (Kiviuq was left-handed), he began to erase the dark black line when the teacher called out, announcing that the test time was half over. Kiviuq glanced up, biting his lip. He had an ugly mark on his page, but that was it. He'd better hurry.
Kiviuq began his erasing again when suddenly the eraser caught on the paper and it tore. In half. The ripping sound seemed to echo around the quiet room. Kiviuq looked up sympathetically towards the teacher, who only glared. Kiviuq lowered his gaze page to the dismantled page. Not to worry, he could fix this. He had some tape in his bag. Reaching down, Kiviuq's bad luck struck again, harder this time as one of the legs on his desk gave out. The metal and wooden box on legs heaved to the side, smashing against the floor to send pencils, erasers, and Kiviuq's mangled test flying. Almost everyone in the room looked up as Kiviuq's ears burned with embarrassment.
“Mister Okpik!” the teacher snapped, clearly at the end of her patience. It seemed like she was attempting to keep her anger under a lid, but Kiviuq had unintentionally strained her last straw. “Please come to front of the class...” she said, her tone withheld. Kiviuq swallowed, slowly stepping over the mess and slinking to the front slowly.
The woman looked disappointed. “Mister Okpik, please take your things and report to the detention hall for repeated disruptions of class.”
Kiviuq didn't meet her watchful eye as he quickly turned, collecting his scattered pencils, erasers, old backpack and mangled piece of paper. The lady took it in and handed the boy another before Kiviuq had the chance to escape from the room. Once out in the hall, he sighed. Was this school fun or what? Sulking as he slipped his bag over his shoulders, Kiviuq began to slowly shuffle down the hall, reading the slip that he had been assigned. He had been written up. Today was his second day on the island.
Five minutes later saw Kiviuq standing in front of the door to the detention room. He nervously coddled the paper in his fingers before quietly knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately, and within moments, Kiviuq was seated in a white desk and told to do work. Sighing as he settled back into his focused-but-not-too-focused state and began doing extra calculus problems.