Little Things
There is a fairly well-known concept called the "butterfly effect". It's the idea that a small, seemingly minor change in the initial conditions of a system can ultimately result in a large, very major change later on. The general example is that if a random butterfly--in the perfect moment--flaps its wings, it could cause a chain of events which influences the time and path of a hurricane several weeks later. The mathematical study of this concept is in a realm known as "chaos theory".
I believe it was in ninth grade when my English class read one of Ray Bradbury's most ingenious and influential short stories, "A Sound of Thunder". The story is set in the year 2055, when it is said that time travel has been invented and perfected by humanity. The main character, Eckels, spends a great deal of money (namely $10,000) to go on a hunting expedition, but with an unusual twist: they want to hunt a Tyrannosaurus rex. As they travel backwards through time, one of the characters emphatically warns Eckels that no matter what happens, it is imperative that he stay on the path. The accidental killing of any animal could completely change the course of time and history. If a mouse is killed out of line, all future generations of that mouse are completely obliterated as well, as well as all future generations of any animal who depended on those mice to live. The effects will trickle down to one of the first humans, perhaps causing one of them to starve, thereby obliterating every future generation of that early human--a whole race or country. The T-rex they are hunting has been specifically chosen so that if the hunters don't come to kill it, it would have died naturally that day anyway as a result of something else. I don't want to spoil the story for anyone who hasn't read it, so if you haven't read it, I would encourage you to do so. Here is a link to an online version of the story.
Although "A Sound of Thunder" is very much science fiction, its core message is very much applicable to real life. In third grade, I was assigned at random to a class of about 20-so kids. Unfortunately, from preschool to second grade, in each year I found a group of friends I connected with and spent time with, but almost every year following, those friends were put in different classes or went to different schools, so I lost touch with them. It was only in third grade when, by chance, I was placed in the same class as this kid who had just moved to my city (for now, let's call him by the first letter of his name: "G"). G was born in China and moved to the United States when he was about 1. When we entered the classroom of Mrs. Gill that first day, neither of us had any notion of the other's existence, and yet because we spent so much time with each other each day, we became friends.
Then, one day (and we honestly have varying accounts of what actually happened but this is the rough consensus), I got sick. Third grade was the year I came down with whopping cough, which was not very fun. I stayed at home for an extended period of time, missing school. G, who would normally play with me at recess, was then left alone to wander the playground aimlessly, and he stumbled upon two other kids who were also wandering aimlessly--D and W. When I came back, our "friend circle", as we (or perhaps just I) grew to call it, had been created. I discovered that in the time I was gone, G, D, and W befriended each other, and I happily accepted them. Third grade ends, and what happens next, I will be forever in awe of: as if someone knew, all four of us got put in the exact same fourth grade class. I'm not old enough to say we've been long-time friends, but G, D, and W have been the group of friends I've known and stayed in touch with for the longest time. Each of them have undoubtedly influenced parts of who I am today, and without just one of them, I firmly believe I would be a radically different person.
The point of me telling you all of this is to exemplify how much of what we would consider important aspects of our lives is based off of the perfect alignment of smaller, "minor", chance occurrences. Without just one of those occurrences, the entire system can be skewed in a completely different direction, kind of like the butterfly effect. I like to call these occurrences "Little Things". For example: What if I hadn't been sick that day in third grade--would G have met D and W? Or what about whatever I did to get the germs that made me sick? Maybe I forgot to wash my hands before I ate something. If I had washed my hands instead, would G still have met D and W? How did G and I even end up in the same class? Was it random assignment by a computer application? What if the person who ran the application decided to grab a bite to eat before running the application? Would it have caused the application to randomly assign classes differently? Would I still be who I am today?
Unmotivated students will sometimes question why they have to learn history. The past is in the past, why do we have to know about it? You and I can probably think of a million gazillion reasons why we have to learn about history, but I want to focus on one in particular: it's the Little Things of life that make us who we are, perhaps more so than the Big Things (which are themselves arguably the collective force of multiple Little Things). We say that history is the study of the past, but really, it's the study of why the present is the way it is.
There is nothing minor or insignificant about anything in life. We are all Eckels from "A Sound of Thunder". The only difference is that our path is in the present day, and we step off that path every second we breathe.
I believe it was in ninth grade when my English class read one of Ray Bradbury's most ingenious and influential short stories, "A Sound of Thunder". The story is set in the year 2055, when it is said that time travel has been invented and perfected by humanity. The main character, Eckels, spends a great deal of money (namely $10,000) to go on a hunting expedition, but with an unusual twist: they want to hunt a Tyrannosaurus rex. As they travel backwards through time, one of the characters emphatically warns Eckels that no matter what happens, it is imperative that he stay on the path. The accidental killing of any animal could completely change the course of time and history. If a mouse is killed out of line, all future generations of that mouse are completely obliterated as well, as well as all future generations of any animal who depended on those mice to live. The effects will trickle down to one of the first humans, perhaps causing one of them to starve, thereby obliterating every future generation of that early human--a whole race or country. The T-rex they are hunting has been specifically chosen so that if the hunters don't come to kill it, it would have died naturally that day anyway as a result of something else. I don't want to spoil the story for anyone who hasn't read it, so if you haven't read it, I would encourage you to do so. Here is a link to an online version of the story.
Although "A Sound of Thunder" is very much science fiction, its core message is very much applicable to real life. In third grade, I was assigned at random to a class of about 20-so kids. Unfortunately, from preschool to second grade, in each year I found a group of friends I connected with and spent time with, but almost every year following, those friends were put in different classes or went to different schools, so I lost touch with them. It was only in third grade when, by chance, I was placed in the same class as this kid who had just moved to my city (for now, let's call him by the first letter of his name: "G"). G was born in China and moved to the United States when he was about 1. When we entered the classroom of Mrs. Gill that first day, neither of us had any notion of the other's existence, and yet because we spent so much time with each other each day, we became friends.
Then, one day (and we honestly have varying accounts of what actually happened but this is the rough consensus), I got sick. Third grade was the year I came down with whopping cough, which was not very fun. I stayed at home for an extended period of time, missing school. G, who would normally play with me at recess, was then left alone to wander the playground aimlessly, and he stumbled upon two other kids who were also wandering aimlessly--D and W. When I came back, our "friend circle", as we (or perhaps just I) grew to call it, had been created. I discovered that in the time I was gone, G, D, and W befriended each other, and I happily accepted them. Third grade ends, and what happens next, I will be forever in awe of: as if someone knew, all four of us got put in the exact same fourth grade class. I'm not old enough to say we've been long-time friends, but G, D, and W have been the group of friends I've known and stayed in touch with for the longest time. Each of them have undoubtedly influenced parts of who I am today, and without just one of them, I firmly believe I would be a radically different person.
The point of me telling you all of this is to exemplify how much of what we would consider important aspects of our lives is based off of the perfect alignment of smaller, "minor", chance occurrences. Without just one of those occurrences, the entire system can be skewed in a completely different direction, kind of like the butterfly effect. I like to call these occurrences "Little Things". For example: What if I hadn't been sick that day in third grade--would G have met D and W? Or what about whatever I did to get the germs that made me sick? Maybe I forgot to wash my hands before I ate something. If I had washed my hands instead, would G still have met D and W? How did G and I even end up in the same class? Was it random assignment by a computer application? What if the person who ran the application decided to grab a bite to eat before running the application? Would it have caused the application to randomly assign classes differently? Would I still be who I am today?
Unmotivated students will sometimes question why they have to learn history. The past is in the past, why do we have to know about it? You and I can probably think of a million gazillion reasons why we have to learn about history, but I want to focus on one in particular: it's the Little Things of life that make us who we are, perhaps more so than the Big Things (which are themselves arguably the collective force of multiple Little Things). We say that history is the study of the past, but really, it's the study of why the present is the way it is.
There is nothing minor or insignificant about anything in life. We are all Eckels from "A Sound of Thunder". The only difference is that our path is in the present day, and we step off that path every second we breathe.