Mathochism: Back to the math

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

In reading over my last few Mathochism entries, I have come to realize I’ve been focusing too much on petty irritations in the classroom, and not so much on the math.

This is probably because, as a journalist, I have always believed that people and their foibles were the most interesting part of the story. For instance, even when I’ve written an ode to cheesecake, the real story was about the woman who had sacrificed everything to setting up her own cheesecake business. Always bringing the subject back to people, moreover, is a surefire way to connect with other people. We all have our humanity in common, even if our interests differ.

Mathochism: Testing, testing…

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

I had my first Algebra test yesterday, the first in almost a quarter of a century.

I don’t know how I did, but I hope I did okay. There were no surprises — some of the problems were even identical to ones I came across in the copious homework.

I tried to be methodical, I gave myself time to go over problems twice.

We shall see tomorrow.

Now, I know I have griped about this repeatedly, but I am really not feeling the love for my classmates.

On test day, one woman didn’t think she needed to bring a pencil, and moaned about it until some Good Samaritan lent her one. The guy behind me, when not grunting and sniffling loudly, kept kicking my chair, which did wonders for my concentration.

We had to turn in our reams of homework on test day, and a number of students didn’t seem to feel it was necessary to staple the assignments beforehand. No, there was supposed to be a magic stapler for their use in class.

Really? Most times, there’s barely any chalk.

One fellow decided to do all the work out of sequence, which necessitated a long explanation about how “this section starts here, then goes to this page, then back to this page…”

And did I mention this long-winded explanation took place while others were taking the test, since we were supposed to turn in homework with the Scantron?

Mr. Kick and Snuffle was also done early, and decided to disrupt everyone’s concentration further by ripping pages out of his notebook.

If I do well on this test, and I hope I do, it will not be thanks to these people.

For years, I thought math was hell. I was wrong. Hell is other math students. Either that, or my journey to crotchety old crone has begun.

All text copyrighted by A.K. Whitney, and cannot be used without permission.

Mathochism: Getting into it

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

Finally, the actual Algebra has begun.

Starting with chapter 2, the variables and the equations have become my constant companions (Get it? Constants? Gotta love math humor!), and it’s not as terrifying as I expected.

I’m actually getting it, even though I still have reservations about the textbook and the class.

Mathochism: Why Algebra and politics don’t mix

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

I’m happy to report that the sciatica has kept away since Tuesday, which meant I was able to go to class Wednesday and focus on math for two hours straight without a break. (The professor, in spite of his first-day promise that we would get a 10-minute break in the middle of class, has reneged already.)

The pain, however, came the next day, but it had nothing to do with sciatica. I was sitting in the charming math lab when it happened.

Mathochism: Love and math in time of sciatica

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

The pain started Friday night. It was sharp and constant, starting in the middle of my left buttock, wrapping around the hip, then shooting down to the knee.

A classic case of sciatica.

I’ve dealt with it before, and while it’s always unpleasant, I’ve managed it with stretching, taking medication, sleeping on a softer surface and generally willing it away.

But this time, it was very different. None of the usual cures seemed to work, and by Saturday night I was in so much pain I moved to the couch because it was softer. I curled up in fetal position, trying desperately to take pressure off my back muscle.

Mathochism: I’ve got to admit, it’s getting better

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

It’s getting better, all the time.

Well, it was a lot better Wednesday night. Perhaps the professor was just having a bad night Monday. Perhaps he adheres to the “come at them with guns blazing on the first day, or they won’t respect you” school of teaching. I have seen enough teachers use that tactic in the past, particularly when dealing with less-than-eager students.

Whatever it was, he was calmer, more grounded, and more thorough. He still doesn’t care much for questions, though I must admit a few of the questions asked that night were downright inane.

Oh dear — that is my hubris talking. We’re still on chapter one in the TRL book, and it’s all a big rehash of pre-algebra. Thanks to the dapper professor, I’ve been coasting through the homework with ease. And there is a LOT of homework.

This professor requires his students to do every fourth problem at the end of each chapter section. Chapter 1 has eight sections, and each section has about 120 problems. That means about 240 problems total.

I finished sections 1 through 6, and it’s a thick pile. I still have two sections left. Our homework for chapters 1 and 2 are due at the same time as our first test. It will be quite a tome when I’m done, and I get the feeling I will need to stock up on more paper.

In all, this feels very different. I’ve been trying to figure out why, and I think it may be a lack of fear, a strange new comfort with numbers and the language of mathematics. Whether or not I will become a native speaker is a matter of time and application.

I may even one day go from math phobe to math phile.

All text copyrighted by A.K. Whitney, and cannot be used without permission.

Mathochism: It begins again

One woman’s attempt to revisit the math that plagued her in school. But can determination make up for 25 years of math neglect?

Algebra officially began Monday, and I miss the dapper professor already.

In fact, I miss the entire pre-algebra experience, from the professor, to the book, to my classmates (though not the noisy, possibly calculator-using, back row).