DNA - Who Am I?

 

DNA is the abbreviation of deoxyribonucleic acid.

I admit to getting out of my depth trying to research this. Science was never a strong point and even now, with an interest in the subject, I’m literally blinded by science. This description is what I found online, in terms I could understand,

“DNA is the special molecule inside your cells that holds the genetic code. This code tells your body how to grow, look and work. In shape, it looks like a twisted ladder called a double helix. The rungs of the ladder are made of four chemicals, Adenine, Thymine, Cytosine and Guanine. You get half of your DNA from each parent.”

It reads as if aimed at KS2 primary level children and it is as much as I think I need to know.

There is a saying, ‘It is a wise child that knows his own father’. It is in Homer’s Odyssey and also in William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. It means, as we know, ‘One can never be sure of one’s paternity’.

This was something in the back of my mind. Remarks were made when I was in my teens, but I didn’t pay much attention because I didn’t want to give any satisfaction to the person trying to get under my skin.

I’ve used Ancestry and similar online sites to help grow my family tree for a long time. It’s one of those things I dip in and out of, usually when something new grabs my interest. When Ancestry introduced DNA tests, I considered it for ages. What I’d kept in the back of my mind came into the forefront and I spent hours of ‘what if’ self-counselling. I didn’t apply straight away, but when the cost was reduced on a special offer, I decided to go ahead. The results didn’t throw up anything unexpected. Those remarks, intended to make me doubt the foundation of my existence, had no substance and up to now, no surprises.

I found a couple of poems on Poetry Soup,

A Dash of DNA

A dash of DNA decides
The colour of our eyes
And probably our hair and skin
And possibly our size.

Genetics, though, is just a part
Of who we grow to be,
For many other factors count,
Each one to some degree.

Our family life, our neighbourhood,
Our friends, religion, schools,
All help determine how we’ll use
Our inborn molecules.

We learn from our experience;
So much of it holds sway
That over all it counts more than
That dash of DNA

by Ilene Bauer


Finn’s Lament in Two Parts, Limerick

Finn boasted he was all Irish,
A DNA test he would relish.
When Danes showed up
He got lost in his cup
And said DNA was all rubbish.

Finn’s kids never did care
That they had bright blond hair,
But still he was wrought
At the very thought
That Danes were everywhere.

by Peter W Iversen


Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Old School - New Technology

 

One of my grandchildren is doing Key Stage 2 Standard Assessment Tests, otherwise known as KS2 SATs exams this week. He’s on track, so I’m sure he will be fine. He likes to do his homework at my house, which is fine. In recent weeks, the homework has been SATs practice papers for Maths and English and a list of spellings to learn. Maths is good. He is a whizz at maths, except anything to do with mixed fractions. Not my forte, either, better ask Grandad. I’m good at passing the buck. I’m good at English. At least, as a published writer I thought I was until I encountered an English paper he needed a little help with. Thank you, Google, for topping up my old brain with ‘subordinate clauses’, ‘subordinating conjunctions’, ‘relative pronouns’ and many more terms new to me that I tried to quickly learn. I decided that although I have qualifications to prove I am (was) educated to a certain level, I finished up feeling a bit thick, and he’s not quite eleven.

He attends one of my old schools. I had five different primary schools due to my father’s job in the licenced trade taking the family to various towns. As a child, I was very unhappy at this school and failed to settle in. These days, someone would pick up on that and show care and encouragement to a child, especially coming in new to the unfamiliar. For all that I once hated it, I’m at home there, now. I look after the infant’s library as a volunteer. Previously, I worked there. I would be out of my depth now. Methods have changed so much, even since my own children’s primary school years. I suppose we must move with the times.

My grandson will go to high school in September, where things will be even less familiar to me. That’s if he tells me anything about it, of course.

In my day, the Eleven Plus created the great divide between Grammar or Secondary school, and made some of the exam failures, like me, feel disappointed and even worthless. The KS2 SATs won’t be responsible for anything like that, thank goodness.

When I was at secondary school, we had to use fountain pens in English. Handwriting was encouraged to be cursive and perfectly formed, something to take pride in. Untidy writers were made to practice on specially lined paper. Sometimes, English homework would be to learn a poem by heart. It would be recited in class. No escape.

My grandson has developed his own handwriting style, as we all do. At school, some work, including writing is done on an iPad. Modern technology is the way forward and as things change and improve, we must keep up. I am ‘old school’ in my ways and in my thinking, but coping, I think, in this digital age.

My poem is not intended to sound cynical, but more of a sigh to what has passed never to return. A comparison from then to now.

An Alternative Education

The 3Rs soon to be redundant
Computer-led kids will be abundant
With all information mega-quick,
It only takes a scroll down and click.
No need for any conversation
Included in their education.

Last year’s reception class have all gone
And taken a leap up to Year One
To drag sticky fingers on iPad screens
And work out what technology means.
Will this be their basic foundation
Instead of formal education?

Numeracy, or let’s call it Maths
Has rules to follow specific paths
Beginning with learning how to count
Then adding up and sharing out.
One click away from calculation
Takes away their education.

When did this digital preference start?
Oh, why no poetry learnt by heart?
‘Spell check’ becomes their favourite teacher
With ‘grammar check’ an added feature.
The only future expectation,
A self-taught on-line education.

The infants are learning to use a pen
It’s not a skill they’ll need again,
For a future spent staring on-line,
Social activity in decline
With hardly any interaction,
So they won’t need our education.

PMW 2015

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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