AP Human Geography

My son took his first Advanced Placement test today. We won't find out until about June, but I hope he did well.
Part of the reason I'm invested in his success is that I want him to have a better university experience than I did. Another part of it is that I have spent about 25 of the past 28 years living outside the continental United States, and I'd like to think that what he's seen of the world -- because of my choices -- has in fact has a positive effect. If he does well, it would be a validation of those choices.

And then there the fact that I dished out about 20 bucks to get one of those AP guide books, and I'd hate to see that money go to waste.

Over the past couple months, we've been going over the course material, and I've had time to reflect on what I've seen over the years. It's also caused me to think about my own family's history.

For example, in my paternal grandfather's time, it was enough to finish grade school -- you didn't have to finish high school. In his case, he dropped out at age 16 and joined the Merchant Marines. (It was only later, when he was in the Army, that he got his GED.) And that worked fine in a time when most jobs were in the primary or secondary industries -- farming, mining, and factories. As long as you knew how to balance a checkbook, spend less than you made, and memorize a few heuristics (buy a house, don't rent; save 10%; don't use a credit card) you could do OK in life.

It was only in my parents' generation that a high school education became more or less mandatory. With only a high school diploma, my father was able to do fairly well as a machinest in a scientific glassware factor in southern New Jersey.

Then came the 1980s, and things became more difficult for manual laborers. The job my paternal grandmother had sewing shirts disappeared. In the 1990s, as NAFTA and China's globalization allowed factories to move to Mexico and China (among other countries), the percentage of manufacturing jobs in the United States fell precipitously. My step-mother used to work for a company that made Christmas supplies; that closed down, too.

By the time I graduated high school in 1993, you pretty much had to go to college if you wanted to get "a good job," which meant office work in a service-related sector. And so I went to college -- in 1999, I was the first person in my lineage to graduate. To my family, that was a big deal, but it was pretty much a necessity to keep pace with the changing economy.

My family has also mirrored the declining fertility rate of the 20th century. My maternal grandmother was the seventh of nine children; my mother was fifth of nine. But in my generation, I'm the first of only three. And my wife is third of four. My sister and I have only two children each, as do each of my wife's brothers. Our collective fertility rate is exactly 2.0 -- a hair less than the "replacement rate" of 2.1.

In my time, I have seen -- with my own eyes -- my son's Human Geography textbook play out like a story, one which I am only now reading for the first time. I have taken part is the great demographics trends of the past century. And I am in absolute *wonder* at the life I have lived.

And it is my hope that I can convey that sense of wonder to my children.