Physics Class
Fall 1894 – Einstein age 16
As Albert secured his bicycle at the side entrance of the gymnasium and took his books from the basket mounted in front of the handlebars, he wondered what the Benedictine Monks would think of a Jewish boy attending their prestigious school.
Dressed in a stylish charcoal wool suit, Albert walked toward the front of the building. Mounting the steps, he took off his inky short brimmed felt bowler hat and smoothed back his unruly chestnut hair. He was late. Again. He didn’t care.
Dwarfed by the tall Doric columns, he kept his eyes on the ground. He didn’t even glance at the long wall scroll with the Bavarian monks’ black and gold coat of arms that hung above him. Albert’s pace slowed. “I am not looking forward to another day of painful coercion by these dullards.”
At sixteen and standing five feet nine, Albert was not an imposing figure. The mild expression on his face hid the firestorm of rage that brewed in his mind. “Day after day, the same thing. This rote memorizing hurts my brain.” Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Albert let his thoughts drift to his mother and father. He missed his family. A sadness came over him as he remembered their goodbyes in early summer when his parents left him with his aunt and uncle to pursue work in Italy. He had loved his life before they left. Now he was stuck in classes where the boys were studying things he had mastered years earlier, and his guardians did not offer the same understanding his parents had provided.
Albert stopped next to a column and leaned against it as he remembered discovering the magic of mathematics. He was only around twelve when a family friend, Max Talmud, gave Albert a gift that changed his life.
Max was a struggling medical student who would visit the Einsteins on Shabbat. The book, Simple Algebra, opened new worlds to Albert, who at the time was in Folkenshuler elementary school. Albert mastered the book by himself and would delight in surprising Max with how much he had learned since the previous Friday.
For Albert, Simple Algebra was like a prayer book. He remembered his wonderment as the book began stimulating questions in his mind. Each problem became a puzzle to solve. Life was a series of “Xs” he decided, a series of unknowns. The concept had fascinated him. “How am I to solve my need to get my diploma so I can teach? X + my efforts = Diploma. What is X?” he used to wonder.
Albert forced himself out of his reverie and reluctantly resumed his walk to class.
He entered the classroom and nodded at his friend, Johann. The teacher, Herr von Achen, was writing on the blackboard, his back to the class. Von Achen was a rigidly disciplined man on whom forty resembled sixty. His eyes were a bleak gray behind gold-rimmed spectacles and his features were pinched and seemed to be in a perpetual frown under his balding head.
“The “late” Herr Einstein,” taunted Werner von Wiesel as Albert made his way to his seat. Werner was being his usual obnoxious self. The boys in the class would have laughed at the play on words, but they had heard this particular phrase numerous times already from von Wiesel. His entourage did manage a weak guffaw as Albert slid into his seat, ignoring the bully.
Von Achen turned and frowned, “Enough, Herr von Wiesel,” he said in halfhearted admonishment. Albert, who often challenged him, was far from the teacher’s favorite student. And von Achen didn’t want to antagonize the son of Colonel von Wiesel, one of Munich’s solid citizens (though, privately, von Achen thought him a pompous ass).
With a disapproving glare at Albert, von Achen began the lesson. “Today we will discuss mathematical treatment of astronomy, Newton’s development of celestial mechanics and the laws of gravitation. Does everyone have their textbook? Several of the boys nodded, taking out their copies of Josef Krist’s Essentials of Natural Science?”
Albert raised his hand. “With all due respect Herr von Achen, what does astronomy have to do with physics?”
Murmurs and grumbles rippled through the classroom. Werner rolled his eyes moaning, “Not again… Einstein, do you have to do this?”
Albert stood his ground. “My interest is in learning physics. This astronomy seems to be a waste of my time.”
Herr von Achen turned to Albert. "As part of this course, we are covering the five branches of natural science: Astronomy, biology, chemistry, the Earth sciences, and physics. You are to learn a broad range of subjects, not just one or two.”
“I have already covered this,” Albert thought to himself. Frustrated, he shook his head in resignation.
Herr von Achen challenged Albert. “Herr Einstein, please stand and explain to the class Newton’s theory of celestial mechanics.”
“The Law of universal gravitation states that any two bodies in the universe attract each other with a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them,” Albert rattled off from his seat.
Herr von Achen’s face reddened. “What are you talking about? Where in your textbook, did you see that?” His anger building, the older man spat, “And when I tell you to stand the young man, you will stand!”
Albert threw his hands up and stood beside his chair. “Herr von Achen, I learned Newton’s theory of celestial mechanics several years ago. I read the Peoples Books of Natural Science when I was twelve. All twenty-one volumes.”
A collective gasp of incredulity rippled through the classroom.
Herr von Achen, barely containing his fury, declared, “I don’t care what you read or when.” He grabbed the copy of the textbook from his desk and held it up. “We are working with this textbook and the information in it. So,” he said, his body quivering as he slammed the book back down onto the desk with a sharp crack, “you can shut up and sit down!”
Turning from Albert to the blackboard, the teacher began scribbling as he spoke in short staccato bursts of scientific jargon.
Albert shook his head again in frustration. He wished he were anywhere but here. As the other boys feverishly took notes, attempting to keep up with their still enraged teacher, Albert slumped into his chair and pulled his brass compass from his pants pocket. Albert found endless fascination studying his prized possession. He wondered as he pushed on the twelve gem stones like buttons how he could turn it on again … how could he get the number “33” to flash the way it had when he first opened it?
Pulled from his reverie by the clock striking the hour and marking the end of the class, Albert heaved a sigh of relief, put away his compass and gathered his books. As he headed for the door, Herr von Achen tersely motioned him over to his desk. Albert approached cautiously. Barely containing his frustration, von Achen pointed his right index finger at Albert and, through clenched teeth said, “Just who do you think you are, Herr Einstein?”
Albert took in a deep breath and replied, “What do you want me to say, Herr von Achen?”
A vein throbbing on his brow Von Achen spat out, “You come to class late, sit in the back row with your attention elsewhere, and argue with me whenever you can. Where is your respect?”
“I respect knowledge and critical thought, sir,” Albert replied, his patience at an end. “I find little of either in this class,” he said wearily.
Herr von Achen glared at the boy, “Well then, perhaps you would do better somewhere else.” He pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and smacked it against Albert’s chest. “You are to meet with the Academik Committee in six weeks. The letter explains everything.” He turned from Albert to straighten some papers on his desk. “And, Herr Einstein,” he said with sarcasm, his attention on the papers, “be on time.”
Stunned by this unexpected development and not knowing what to say, Albert stepped back, staring blankly at the letter in his hand. As realization dawned, and the idea of being expelled from school and having his plans shattered thrust itself into his mind, his face turned scarlet. His thoughts raced. His teachers at the Folkenshuler and now Gymnasium tried to force him to conform and Albert found it suffocating. Suddenly the whole place felt like it was closing in on him and Albert bolted from the classroom and ran through the hall out the front door.
The biting near-winter wind met Albert as he burst out of the Gymnasium. Running until he was out of breath, he stopped near the museum, and bent over, hands on his knees. As he gasped the cold air into his lungs, Albert tried to calm himself and take stock. He needed to be alone. As his emotions calmed and rationality returned, Albert realized he needed his bicycle. Keeping his eyes down to avoid engaging with anyone, he made his way back to the side entrance of the Gymnasium.
No one paid any attention to Albert as he mounted his bicycle and pedaled away. His heavy wool suit barely kept Albert warm in the fall chill, but he hardly noticed. After a while, he took one hand off the handlebars to wipe the tears from his eyes. His inner north guided Albert to Gasteig Park and the bridge at the end of the Prinzregentenstrasse. He slowed before a bench in the formal gardens and set his bicycle on the grass.
He collapsed onto the bench and reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette. Sitting back, he closed his eyes and inhaled. He exhaled his anger with Herr Von Achen in a stream of smoke and took another drag. By the time Albert had finished and crushed the cigarette with his shoe, he was more in control of himself. He gazed across the terraces. Rising above in the axis of the Prinzregentenstrasse was the "Angel of Peace", a statue of the ancient Greek goddess of victory, Athena Nike. Albert stared at the towering, golden statue. “My only god is mathematics.”
The sun began to set and Albert shivered in the chill. “I need to be somewhere where I can think,” Albert decided. He didn’t want to discuss this with Johann and his aunt and uncle would be of no assistance. Then he realized he had the perfect place.
It was full dark by the time Albert found himself riding past candle-lit houses of middle class families. A short time later he arrived at his destination. He quietly walked his bike to the back of the house and left it under a small canopy made for the family vehicles. He opened the back door and entered a quiet house. He was alone. Since his parents had taken his younger sister Mara to Italy, he had the family home all to himself.
He turned on the hall light and climbed the stairs two at a time. He opened the door to find his bed, dresser and armoire had accumulated only a light coat of dust since he’d left them in the summer. Just being back in the familiar room helped to calm him. Taking a deep breath, Albert reached under the bed and pulled out his violin case. He opened it and carefully picked up his friend, Violina.
Standing in the middle of the room, Albert closed his eyes and remembered playing the Mozart lullaby, “I See the Moon” with his mother, Pauline accompanying him on the piano. Deeply missing his family, Albert began playing. As the sweet notes emerged from Violina, Albert started walking, then gently waltzing, around the room. He could almost hear his mother singing the melody. The folksy love song lifted his heart and he heard her laugh. Lost in his dreams, Albert let the song fill him.
Bowing the last strains of the beautiful melody, Albert found the memory of his ordeal with Herr Von Achen intruding into his awareness. The warm Violina still in his hands, he opened his eyes to a dim lit bedroom, abandoned. He sighed and settled Violina into her case. Feeling forlorn, Albert collapsed onto his bed fully clothed and fell into a deep sleep.
