Let Inga Tell You: Geography has vanished from the American curriculum

Awhile back, I hired an amiable local kid to help me move some boxes, explaining that my husband was in Saudi Arabia.

My teen helper’s brow puckered for a moment before he inquired, “Is that near Fresno?”

My husband and I remember geography as a regular part of our grade-school education. We had to fill in blank maps of the United States with the state names and be able to recite all the state capitals.

World geography figured pretty predominantly as well, especially as part of the required social studies segment Current Events. It seemed pertinent to know where those Current Events were occurring.

At some point, it seems geography ceased to be taught in the U.S. When Olof and I were relocated by his company to Stockholm for two years, I stopped by a La Jolla shipping office and queried the sweet young thing at the counter about shipping rates to Sweden.

“Is that like a country?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “it’s very much like a country.”

Americans’ lack of geographical knowledge in general, and Sweden’s location in particular, became apparent to us over and over in our Scandinavian sojourn. At a last-minute medical appointment before leaving for Stockholm, the physician’s assistant departed the room with a cheery, “Well, enjoy the Alps!”

Meanwhile, a younger friend asked me to bring her back a box of “those great chocolates.” Even when I suggested she might be confusing Sweden with Switzerland, it was followed by a look of “There’s a difference?” And then: “So you’ll bring the chocolates?”

The Swedes are only too ruefully aware of this tendency of Americans to confuse Sweden with Switzerland. In fact, when we were living there, there was an entire humorous billboard campaign with slogans translating to “Do you see the world as the world sees you?” showing Sweden on a map where Switzerland is actually located. Other billboards facetiously showed polar bears roaming the streets of Stockholm.

Even though geography seems to have dropped off American curricula, we were always impressed at how well-versed Europeans were on world geography. I remember sitting with several American friends in a Stockholm cafe having fika (a coffee tradition beloved by the Swedes). We were trying to remember the capital of Michigan, which somehow was related to our conversation. A Swedish guy at the next table overheard our conversation and supplied “Lansing.”

There must have been at least minimal geography instruction in some recent times, as my older son remembers being taught the mnemonic Not So Fast to help remember the order of Norway, Sweden and Finland on a map. Now geography seems to be Not So Much.

By pure luck, my younger son was blessed with two years of concentrated geography courtesy of a third- and fourth-grade teacher who began each day with a student giving a three-minute presentation, including maps, of a city, country or region of the student’s choosing anywhere in the world. By his second year with this teacher, Henry, then 9, struggled to find an area that hadn’t been covered before.

“How about Abu Dhabi?” I said, since Olof had just been there.

“Mom,” Henry said with barely disguised annoyance, “Abu Dhabi has been done three times.”

Inspired by this teacher, I acquired a Map of the World shower curtain for the kids’ bathroom. They might never look at a globe, but they had to take a bath.

Several years later, Henry and I were watching a quiz show and the clue was “island nation in the Indian Ocean beginning with “M.” Mom had to ponder that, but without missing a beat, Henry said “Madagascar, Mauritius or Maldives,” adding, “Malta is in the Mediterranean.”

“You actually remember that from fourth grade?” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, “but I mostly remember that from yesterday from the shower curtain.”

We are now on at least the 10th successor of that first one. As an atlas, it tends to run at least a few years behind, but the manufacturer has gradually updated it. Bombay has morphed into Mumbai, and all the “stans” are duly indicated. We have long embraced Geography Through Bathing.

At one point, a decorator who was doing a faux-finish wall treatment of the bathroom for me grumbled that the curtain was unforgivably tacky and why had I bothered to upgrade the bathroom if I were going to keep it?

We’re keeping it because at my British nephew’s wedding to a young lady from an American southwestern state, the groom’s exasperated uncle ditched his prepared toast for a lecture on “Where is England?” and “What is the U.K.?” to a bewildered-looking group of the bride’s guests.

In his week in this country before the wedding, the uncle had fielded questions such as “Is England near Thailand?” (because they both end in “land”) and “Is England different from New England?”

But getting back to the kid who asked about Arabia’s proximity to Fresno:

“Actually,” I said, “it’s closer to Omaha.”

Inga’s lighthearted looks at life appear regularly in the La Jolla Light. Reach her at inga47@san.rr.com.