My junior high social-studies was run by Mr. Planer, a jaded teacher with an Olympian attitude who regarded his students as hopeless brutes. He would allow us to vote, when work had been completed and there was time left over, on which of the few available brief documentary films we wished to see again. The boys voted en bloc every time, while the girls’ votes were split among a number of subjects that included “Wood Pulp to Paper,” “The Bessemer Converter,” and “Flax.” The boys always chose the film in the canister labeled ANTHROPOLOGY.