I have always firmly believed that adults were lying to kids about math. Specifically, teachers and parents were all lying when they said that math was important because I would use it in my everyday life. Yes, it is true that some math is important, mainly so you can make sure that the clerk at the 7-11 doesn't short your change after you purchase a Slurpee. Fractions are good because they help you when you are arguing with your sister about whether she got more cake than you did. And then there are multiplication and division, which are mostly helpful when trying to figure out how much you are supposed to tip your waiter.
It is NOT true that you will use trigonometry someday, unless you are an engineer or physicist. And, based upon the television viewing choices of most of America I am betting that will not be the case for 99.999% of you. You certainly will never need to use geometric "proofs" in your daily life, unless you are a geometry teacher, in which case I am so, so sorry for you. I, for one, have attempted to block out most of my junior year of high school because I had geometry with Mr. Nakagawa, who inflicted proofs upon us in class on a daily basis. Unfortunately, most of the class was paying more attention to the spreading sweat-stains under his arms and the odd part in his hair, which began approximately a half an inch above his left ear, resulting in a strange, helmet-like hairstyle. Also, there was the time he fell out of his chair for no apparent reason, but that is a story for a later time. What is important is that I could no more prove (nor would I ever need to) that the area of a trapezoid is the average of the two parallel bases times the height than I could prove that The Boy was actually the one who spilled chicken soup all over my kitchen floor and got the dog to lick it up. I have my suspicions, though.
But, because I now have three children in three math levels, I am forced to admit that you will, in fact, use math in your everyday life. At least you will if you have children. Now, I must attempt daily to remember all of the math that I have forgotten in order to make space for helpful information like my children's dates of birth and where I put the remote control. There's nothing like helping your child with math homework to make you feel like a complete imbecile.
You see, way back in the days when I was studying math in school (1976-1989), we learned math the old fashioned way: it was beat into us using flash cards, mind-numbing story problems and worksheets of extreme length. If you wanted to divide something, you used long-division, dammit. Now, our children are being taught to to find the quotient WITHOUT ACTUALLY DIVIDING ANYTHING. I discovered this recently while trying to help The Boy with his math. Here's how it went down:
The Boy: Mom, I need help with this division.
Me: Well, here's how you do it. 620 divided by 5. How many times does five go into 62?
The Boy: What are you doing?
Me: Division.
The Boy: I don't know what you're doing.
Me: I'm dividing.
The Boy: That's not how my teacher showed me.
Me: How did your teacher show you?
The Boy: I don't really remember.
So, that was helpful. I approached his teacher the next day after school because I wanted to find out how to do the problems the way they were learning them in school.
Me: I tried to show The Boy long division, but he didn't know what I was talking about.
Teacher: We are working on other ways to find the answer.
This is where I should have run from the building, but I stayed and asked:
Me: Could you show me how?
Teacher: Sure. What you do is blah blah blah blah quotient blah blah divisor blah blah add up the guesses blah blah then you have the answer.
Me: So he's supposed to guess?
Teacher: Not exactly. What they are really doing is blah blah blah blah educated estimate blah blah blah.
Me: (blank stare)
Teacher: Understand?
Me: So he's supposed to guess?
So, as you can see, I never really figured out the method, other than I think it involves some sort of telepathy. I am not comfortable with this situation, because I was taught that there was only one right answer and one way to find it and this warm and fuzzy new method is messing with my world view. On the upside, The Boy's teacher e-mailed me a couple of days ago and told me that he was now having trouble with LONG DIVISION. Hallelujah! No more telepathy!
I am no more capable of helping Maggie with her math homework than I am with helping The Boy, even though it was not quite so long ago that I learned algebra. I decided to re-take algebra in college because I felt like I really didn't do an adequate job in high school and would benefit from starting over. So, really, it's only been 24 years or so. How much could have changed since then?
A lot, apparently. When Maggie says, "Mom, could you help me with this math problem?" I want to run from the room, screaming, or perhaps hide behind a large piece of furniture. Every time I help her with a problem, she looks at me like I have a third eyeball in the middle of my forehead and says, "that's not how we are supposed to do it." It LOOKS like the same algebra, but it is clearly not the same algebra. In comparison, my algebra was Mr. Rogers algebra, while this algebra was designed by Stephen Hawking.
The only time I feel smart is when I am helping Ella, but that won't last long because she is starting to learn her multiplication tables. I still don't know my multiplication tables, even though at one point I must have convinced someone I did because I was accepted into college.
My ultimate point is that children already think they are smarter than their parents, so I am begging all of the people involved in developing math curriculum to just please for the love of God stop already with the new math. Can't we just go back to the glory days (1976-1989) of flashcards and long division and fighting the Cold War and only using one way to find the answer? Please? If we don't stop the madness now, pretty soon all of the children are going to think they are more capable than adults at things like running the government., which they probably are, but we don't need to tell them that.
It is NOT true that you will use trigonometry someday, unless you are an engineer or physicist. And, based upon the television viewing choices of most of America I am betting that will not be the case for 99.999% of you. You certainly will never need to use geometric "proofs" in your daily life, unless you are a geometry teacher, in which case I am so, so sorry for you. I, for one, have attempted to block out most of my junior year of high school because I had geometry with Mr. Nakagawa, who inflicted proofs upon us in class on a daily basis. Unfortunately, most of the class was paying more attention to the spreading sweat-stains under his arms and the odd part in his hair, which began approximately a half an inch above his left ear, resulting in a strange, helmet-like hairstyle. Also, there was the time he fell out of his chair for no apparent reason, but that is a story for a later time. What is important is that I could no more prove (nor would I ever need to) that the area of a trapezoid is the average of the two parallel bases times the height than I could prove that The Boy was actually the one who spilled chicken soup all over my kitchen floor and got the dog to lick it up. I have my suspicions, though.
But, because I now have three children in three math levels, I am forced to admit that you will, in fact, use math in your everyday life. At least you will if you have children. Now, I must attempt daily to remember all of the math that I have forgotten in order to make space for helpful information like my children's dates of birth and where I put the remote control. There's nothing like helping your child with math homework to make you feel like a complete imbecile.
You see, way back in the days when I was studying math in school (1976-1989), we learned math the old fashioned way: it was beat into us using flash cards, mind-numbing story problems and worksheets of extreme length. If you wanted to divide something, you used long-division, dammit. Now, our children are being taught to to find the quotient WITHOUT ACTUALLY DIVIDING ANYTHING. I discovered this recently while trying to help The Boy with his math. Here's how it went down:
The Boy: Mom, I need help with this division.
Me: Well, here's how you do it. 620 divided by 5. How many times does five go into 62?
The Boy: What are you doing?
Me: Division.
The Boy: I don't know what you're doing.
Me: I'm dividing.
The Boy: That's not how my teacher showed me.
Me: How did your teacher show you?
The Boy: I don't really remember.
So, that was helpful. I approached his teacher the next day after school because I wanted to find out how to do the problems the way they were learning them in school.
Me: I tried to show The Boy long division, but he didn't know what I was talking about.
Teacher: We are working on other ways to find the answer.
This is where I should have run from the building, but I stayed and asked:
Me: Could you show me how?
Teacher: Sure. What you do is blah blah blah blah quotient blah blah divisor blah blah add up the guesses blah blah then you have the answer.
Me: So he's supposed to guess?
Teacher: Not exactly. What they are really doing is blah blah blah blah educated estimate blah blah blah.
Me: (blank stare)
Teacher: Understand?
Me: So he's supposed to guess?
So, as you can see, I never really figured out the method, other than I think it involves some sort of telepathy. I am not comfortable with this situation, because I was taught that there was only one right answer and one way to find it and this warm and fuzzy new method is messing with my world view. On the upside, The Boy's teacher e-mailed me a couple of days ago and told me that he was now having trouble with LONG DIVISION. Hallelujah! No more telepathy!
I am no more capable of helping Maggie with her math homework than I am with helping The Boy, even though it was not quite so long ago that I learned algebra. I decided to re-take algebra in college because I felt like I really didn't do an adequate job in high school and would benefit from starting over. So, really, it's only been 24 years or so. How much could have changed since then?
A lot, apparently. When Maggie says, "Mom, could you help me with this math problem?" I want to run from the room, screaming, or perhaps hide behind a large piece of furniture. Every time I help her with a problem, she looks at me like I have a third eyeball in the middle of my forehead and says, "that's not how we are supposed to do it." It LOOKS like the same algebra, but it is clearly not the same algebra. In comparison, my algebra was Mr. Rogers algebra, while this algebra was designed by Stephen Hawking.
The only time I feel smart is when I am helping Ella, but that won't last long because she is starting to learn her multiplication tables. I still don't know my multiplication tables, even though at one point I must have convinced someone I did because I was accepted into college.
My ultimate point is that children already think they are smarter than their parents, so I am begging all of the people involved in developing math curriculum to just please for the love of God stop already with the new math. Can't we just go back to the glory days (1976-1989) of flashcards and long division and fighting the Cold War and only using one way to find the answer? Please? If we don't stop the madness now, pretty soon all of the children are going to think they are more capable than adults at things like running the government., which they probably are, but we don't need to tell them that.
I'm at a loss for words...almost. I do believe you've learned and retained way (that's a mathematical term) more math than you're giving yourself credit for. You are remembering quite accurately all you learned in Mr. Nakagawa's class, I mean the liquor proofs alone...oh wait, that's a different kind of math!
ReplyDeleteBy some miracle I was pitied and spared this torture. My kids have an aptitude for math, especially fractions, which I assume is learned from osmosis of my chromosomes since I failed three years of summer school on fractions alone. Is it possible to start a support group? We can meet at a wine bar and discuss deep, relevant thoughts on children but mostly, just drink the wine.
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