Battle with Numbers

I have come a very long way from having a passionate dislike for Mathematics to taking APPLIED CALCULUS II (and I am having a great time in the class). I owe all my gratitude to the excellent teachers I have had over the past two years - Professor S., Professor P. and Professor B. - at Montgomery College Germantown and Rockville campuses. That a good teacher can make every difference in a young or even advanced mind is a fact. To all the teachers out there, both the good and especially the bad ones, I say thank you - for if we did not have any bad teachers then we would not recognize and value the good ones.

Mathematics is a subject that I have never been able to understand. The foundation of 'math' in my life was very weak. My parents never pushed for a grade higher than the 'P'. An occasional 'F' was also acceptable. They had never liked 'math' as students, and they liked it even less as adults. On the other hand, a 'C' in English was unacceptable. My mother teaches college level phonetics and to have her child fail a subject she was so passionate about was unthinkable. The good grades I had in English substituted for my poor grades in 'math'. I now realize that their attitude towards the subject is one of the reasons why I never strove for better grades or a deeper understanding of the subject. If they had been more interested in the subject, I might have been much better in the 'math' class. If they had had good teachers, I would have had someone to make sure I always did my assignments, and always got good grades in the subject. I wish I had developed good study habits. If I had been attentive in class, I might have been prepared for mathematics in college. Then, I would not have this battle against numbers.

Mathematics in Junior High was terrible and turned my dislike for the subject into sheer hatred. The first day of my last year in Junior High was the worst day of my life in school. The Head of the Mathematics Department (who was also the "best 'math' teacher" in the school) had a habit of 'welcoming' students to their final year of Junior High, with a 'math' quiz. The first day of school, he came into my classroom, and announced that he would give us a quiz the next day. I had no idea where to begin studying (not that I knew how to), and I was totally unprepared for it. I tried to think of reasons to stay away from school the next day, but of course I had no choice but to go.

I got to my class and sat at my desk. I shut my eyes, sagged back against the wooden chair and impatiently waited for the executioner (which was the name he had been given by other students). After what seemed like hours, he walked into the classroom bearing in his right hand a whip that would have broken the back of a horse. With a bellowing voice, he ordered us to form two lines, one for the boys, and the other for the girls. One after the other, the execution started. He orally asked us questions, one student after the other. "2 times 2 is? The square root of 81 divided by the cube root of 49 is? What is the formula for?" His questions barely had a pause in between, and the answers were supposed to be automatic. He probably asked over ten questions in a minute. It felt as if we were in a shooting range. We were the target, and he had the rifle. I did not bother to try to answer one question when it was my turn. I just waited for the end. My punishment? A lash of his whip, for every question missed. I was given over 14 lashes with his whip on the palms of both hands. My eyes filled with tears as I stretched out my left hand, and awaited the first stroke. I never attended his classes, and I tried my best to stay away from him. Can anyone blame me for hating 'math'?

The following year, I had to take a semester of calculus. I tried very hard to cultivate a positive attitude towards this class. This teacher was not as good as the Head of the 'math' Department, but his punishment was just as bad. He would give us sums to solve, and they had to be done in his own way. His form of punishment was worse than the previous year. With the index finger, and thumb of his right hand, he would squeeze the sides of our necks very hard. The pain was unbearable, and crying only worsened it. It only lasted a few seconds, but in those seconds my future in 'math' was buried. The pain started from the base of my neck, and 'shot up' to the back of my head, my temples, and my eyes. It probably is similar to having one's head crushed by a gigantic nut-cracker. I have stayed away from numbers, and 'math' until now.

Today, I am in college, and I have to take a year of Mathematics. I had a very wonderful professor, Professor S., who encouraged me and taught me that I could achieve whatever I set my mind to and that Mathematics was nothing but 'working magic with numbers'. Professors P. and B. have also helped me tremendously. And the rewards for being great teachers? I have never had a grade less than an 'A' in the classes of any of these teachers. Today, I find myself enjoying Mathematics and 'working magic with numbers.'

-- Mobolaji Art-Alade