REWIND:
WHEN I was still in school, studying, I developed a phobia in Mathematics. I am not even aware if there is a scientific term for that condition. Just the sight of numbers and signs gave me headaches. But if circumference, cosecants and standard deviations enter the scene, my, that’s brain freeze. I know in my heart that if I start a Facebook group for people who have the same sentiments about Math, I’ll get millions of likes.
It is easy to say that I hate Math, but I don’t. It’s just that we’re in a “complicated” status. I don’t know why, when, or how. I just figured that out when I failed to make it to the honor’s list because of Trigonometry, which eventually endangered my scholarship grant, as well as my chance to finish high school.
So, why am I struggling in Math? I made this crazy theory that because I am fairing well with words, maybe that’s the reason why I’m not good with numbers. Maybe these are two different talents which are chicken feed to wizard kids with superior intelligence, but no, not to an ordinary student like me.
My Statistics teacher contested my premise. How can you possibly understand a Math problem if you’re vocabulary is poor? She was right; however I’m not ready to wave the white flag yet. My argument was simple: you don’t need the Pythagorean Theorem to write an essay.
My terror for Math continued, not surprisingly, until College. It became a significant deciding factor. I chose a course which has very little to do with computations. I did what I loved best for four years: writing, reading, speaking, and performing. I said goodbye to Math.
But like a pledge of love, Math never said goodbye to me.
It is still there in my competency exams before getting my dream job. Sequence, percentage, fractions, simple arithmetic. I experienced the same devastating feeling of submitting a test paper which is 90% guess, only this time, I accepted that the grades would affect my career, not just my report card.
PLAY:
NOW that I am still in school, working, I am surprised to find out that my phobia in Math is still, ever existent.
I proved that one day when I was tasked to write about the culmination of a special academic program in our school, the Abacus Mental Math Arithmetic. I thought that my role was clear, that is, to get the facts, then write. My nightmare began when the teacher dared the audience for a challenge. He randomly selected ten members of the audience to give him four-digit numbers, which he wrote on the board. He then proudly announced that two of his best students who just completed the Abacus training will mentally compute the output of those numbers as he announces the mathematical operation. Afterwards, he handed me a calculator and said, “Miss, kindly compute also and let’s see if the answers will tally.”
He began. 2,143 plus 8,265, times 6,277, minus 4,568, plus 1,655, and so on. His students were just staring at him, while I was hyperventilating, my familiar dread for numbers creeping in. Yes, I have confidence with the calculator, but no, I don’t trust myself.
And it happened, as I was expecting! When the two students flashed the answers they wrote on their white boards, they have exactly the same answers, which is thousands away from mine. I can’t help but laugh. The audience joined me when the Japanese instructor remarked, “You were nervous!”
Hello, Math, we meet again.
FORWARD:
MATH has become a great challenge for me then, and until now. It almost cost me my education, hindered me from passing my job’s qualifying exam, and dampened my self-confidence. But I chose for it not to. Once, my Geometry teacher quipped, what is life without Math? I raised my eyebrows at that rhetorical question, never understanding it before.
But now, phrasing it differently, what is life without challenges, indeed?
Challenges are rulers. They straighten our path. We may past by the most zigzag roads of life but they will always move us back on track, stronger, to reach the end of the path.
Challenges are compasses. They further develop the circles of our being. Remember the five personality spheres? They test our vigor, wit, and faith. They unleash the beauty of human emotions and intimacy of human relationships.
Challenges are pencils, with erasers. They are a reminder that most things, especially the not-so-good ones, are temporary. We have the power to sketch and map our plans, as well as the right to commit mistakes and do some erasures.
Finally, challenges are calculators. Without us knowing, they multiply our faith in ourselves and a Higher Being, divide our reservations, add our strengths, and subtract our weaknesses. (My Algebra teacher will be so proud that I remembered the MDAS).
So what is life without Math? It’s a boring life without challenges.
And what is life without challenges? It’s like entering a Math class without a ruler, pencil, compass and calculator.
We won’t learn.
***
This article is dedicated to all my Math teachers from Preschool to College. However, four of them will always be dear to me - Ma'am Jocelyn, Ma'am Juna, Sir George, and Ma'am Edel. Thank you po for being patient with me. :)
