Mathochism: On thin ice
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 didn’t do as well as I’d hoped on my second Algebra II test. I got a 91. It should have been a 96; I was too quick to deem a polynomial a prime because it contained the number 17.
Damn.
This disappointment, however, is dwarfed by my rising contempt for the Brofessor. We have five weeks left in the term, and he is doing the math equivalent of phoning it in. From his sloppy attire (he has worn the same ratty cargo shorts and t-shirt for six sessions in a row) to the perennial five o’clock shadow to his obvious air of ennui, it is clear he has checked out of this class. At the same time, he has no problem needling his students for not asking enough homework questions after coming back from spring break. This is coming from the same individual who couldn’t be arsed to grade a few tests in that time period!
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