Along with my change in faith (again, pardon the pun) in regards to God came for me a greater emphasis on testing and logic. I realize now that I was a rationalist. It really hit me during science in the sixth grade. This was the way to go. Logic could prove anything! This was science! For some reason though, my mother was much less infatuated with René Descartes than I was, and we constantly argued about logic. She was also not fond of my newfound habit of trying to sleep as late as possible.
In retrospect, I believe my mother was closer to British Empiricism, as she always argued that her experience overruled my logic. And granted I was younger than her by some 30 years (really, that’s not even a third of a decade), but I certainly did not believe that should rule my opinions out. While I always held the Cartesian side of these battles, my mother always seemed to be with Locke, always saying that I couldn’t know without experience. In a funny kind of way, we reenacted the British Empiricists attacking Descartes’ ideas in the 1700’s. And, despite the many arguments lost and won (mostly lost, but I do get to buffer myself some, I’m the one writing), I still remain fairly certain of my standing as ultimately, a rationalist.
As my year in seventh grade came to a close, I had been accepted into the Alabama School of Fine Arts (ASFA). I would be starting there under the math and science program in my eighth grade year. Eighth grade was a bittersweet year. It was enjoyable in that it was easy, but it was difficult in that I didn’t really get along with anyone and in that it would be the last relatively easy year at my tenure at ASFA. For the most part, it was uneventful, but my mother and I did have more Cartesian v. Empiricist spats occasionally.
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