AURORA -Sitting inside a physics class at the Illinois Math and Science Academy it quickly becomes apparent that this is not an average high school.

There are no desks, rather students sit facing each other at hexagon-shaped tables. There are no text books in view and, in the moments before the lesson begins, the volume of conversation barely approaches that of a refrigerator's buzzing.

This notwithstanding, teacher Mark Carlson's first instructions to his students are to "settle down."

An outsider might wonder if Carlson is joking but the absence of even a chuckle reveals that he is not.

And, with one awkward moment behind them, the students forge ahead with their lesson. The question of the day involves that of a wheel and whether there is any relationship between its rotational and transitional speed.

"What is the relationship?" Carlson asks. Two hands shoot up but Carlson rebuffs their owners, "talk to each other."

And so the class goes. A question is posed and the students quietly collaborate with their neighbors.

The volume level in many of the classrooms is one of the more easily identifiable differences of class life at IMSA but nearly every aspect of high school life is different here.

The building itself, with its energy-efficient design, is an aberration. In the social science wing, classrooms are ceilingless, pod-like islands sitting below a cathedral ceiling. A suspended grid of sound absorbing planks dulls the sound from neighboring classes to a murmur.

Many students eschew paper and pens for laptops and in most classrooms text books sit on shelves in favor of a dialogue between the teachers and the students.

More studying

Schedules at IMSA follow a more collegial approach in which students can pick the courses they want to take as part of a "personalized learning plan."

Most students begin their day at about 9 a.m. and wrap up around 4 p.m. and there is no class Wednesday, when students are encouraged to work on independent research projects. Many of the projects end up featured at the school's annual science showcase, "IMSAloquium," sort of like a science fair on steroids.

There is no freshmen year at the school, which begins at the sophomore level, and about 100 of the school's 643 students made the leap directly from eighth grade.

The school's academic rigor was cause for adjustment, said sophomore Matt Liu, who spent his freshman year at Carbondale Community High School.

"I stood out there. I felt my school wasn't challenging me enough; I didn't need to study for tests," he said. "I was reluctant coming here but my parents ? suggested I apply, see if you want to go, or apply and not go. I came for orientation and I fell in love with it."

The love continues, Liu said, even though he's "studying a lot more."

Marion native Karissa Fernandez said one of the biggest adjustments has been one she's happy to have made.

"Freshman year when people were just talking about little things, about 'oh my boyfriend is doing this or that,'" she said. "Then last Friday I am with some other students talking about who the next president is going to be. It's more substantial."

Carterville native Noble Redmon agreed with Fernandez.

"You feel bad saying it but that type of conversation is more prevalent here."

Dishes and laundry

Sitting in the cafeteria, yards away from a mural underscored with the reminder that "every great achievement once seemed impossible" the troika of students from Southern Illinois considered the sacrifices they have made while living and learning at the school.

IMSA policy is that none of its students can have a vehicle on campus and all off-campus sojourns are scheduled and chaperoned by a resident councilor.

Spending so much time on campus led students to begin referring to the "IMSA Bubble" where news of the outside world is often canceled out by what is going on within its walls.

"For the Sadam Hussein execution, I didn't even know about it, I found out from my friends at home," Liu said.

Redmon said he is being forced to miss out on playing for a regional indoor soccer team because practices are an hour away.

"It's a part of my life that I can't enjoy," he said. "A lot of the passions I have, I can't pursue here."

Fernandez said, with free time at such a premium, there are a lot of things she misses. "But, for me, I kind of miss reading books that I wouldn't read for class."

One of the adjustments Liu said he struggled with the most was simply cleaning up after himself.

"We have to do everything by ourselves," he said. "Laundry, I never did it before. The same with dishes and housekeeping. And not having my parents around. They would tell me to do my homework and sort of hover around."

"That is a big difference," Fernandez added, "no one is going to tell you what you have to do."

blackwell.thomas@thesouthern.com

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