March 1, 2006
this was his secret wish all along
I’m no math whiz. In high school, I took Algebra three times. And had a tutor. And finally, in my senior year (when I was talking Algebra 2.5, which was code for GIRLS WHO STILL DON’T GET IT) I finally managed a B-, solely because my math teacher was the dean of the senior class and we (my senior class, my all-girl math class, my friend Kim and I who always had the EXACT same answers for the homework, you name it) had driven him so crazy by the end of the second semester that he pretty much gave up. Oh, and it was the THIRD TIME I had taken the class. Plus there was the tutor. And yet I only managed a sympathy B-! So you get the idea.
My best friend was a math genius. And despite the fact that we spent probably 30 hours a week on the phone, talking about ‘homework,’ it didn’t rub off at all. Go figure. By our junior year, Jennifer had exhausted all the math classes available at our very rigorous prep school and was taking classes at the university. I was taking ALGEBRA. Again. Whatever.
One day, she came in compaining about how hard her math class was, and how she couldn’t get in touch with the professor and how the TA didn’t speak English and she was going to FAIL THE CLASS! Girls are so dramatic, especially the ones in the drama club. ‘Call my dad,’ I told her. ‘He’ll help you.’ My parents loved Jen; she was smart and funny and polite and she liked that my parents acted like PARENTS and not like other adults who lived in the house with her. I, of course, found that whole because-we’re-your-parents thing REALLY ANNOYING; I had a curfew and had to tell my parents where I was going and who I would be with, like I was sixteen or something! Which I was, of course. Jen’s parents took for granted that she was responsible and would do the right thing, and she was pretty much allowed to do whatever she wanted to do. You can see why my parents were so eager willing happy to have her hang out at our house.
So she called my dad, and he helped her with her trigowhatsitsname, and it was all good, because unlike when he and I did math together, no one cried. I’m not saying who was doing the crying, I’m just saying: often, there was math-related crying.
The next day at school, Jennifer said, ‘Your dad was a HUGE help!’
And I said, ‘Well, you know, he always wanted a daughter who was good in math.’
Ha ha ha! We still laugh about this now. Really! We also laugh about my brother’s wife being the golfing son-in-law my dad always hoped for. My family! We’re crazy.
The other day, when I picked Henry up at school, his teacher told me that he had helped his friend J with some math problems. We’re not making any real effort to teach him math at home (that’s what I pay all that tuition for! and really, I shouldn’t be teaching anyone math). He and Wade play counting games together, but that’s about the extent of it. But somehow he has gotten the idea that math is fun and easy, and he likes to do it (unlike so many other things that he just refuses to do, like ride his bike without the training wheels or eat new foods or–well, it’s a long list).
In the car, I asked him about helping his friend. Sometimes it’s hard to get Henry to talk about his day; in his brain, the move from a recent experience to a significant memory takes longer than it does for you or me, and often he can’t remember what he’s done fifteen minutes earlier. But when I mentioned the math, he immediately said, ‘Yeah, there were four problems and the answers to three of them were four, but the last one was a TRICK!’
‘A trick?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You know, two plus two is four, three plus one is four, four plus zero is four, but two plus one is THREE, not four!’
‘Good for you, buddy.’
‘And you know what? No one knew that four plus zero was four, they thought it was FORTY!’
‘I can see that,’ I said, ‘because four and zero next to each other is forty.’
‘But when there’s a PLUS sign,’ he said, ‘you ADD them. But they didn’t know that!’
‘Buddy, you’re reading. Did you know that?’
‘No, Mom, I’m doing math.’
And then my heart exploded. Can you believe that? Math! I’m so proud.
But not as proud as my dad when he heard about it. Because apparently the recessive math gene has reappeared in this generation! It was a triumphant day for the Papa.
And that’s why I had kids in the first place.
(The funniest part was this: when Henry got ready to call my dad to tell him the story, I reminded him to tell Papa what kind of math he was doing and he just stared at me. ‘Were you doing addition, buddy?’ I asked. ‘No, Mom, we were doing numbers math. You know.’ Oh, yes. Of course! Numbers math. Is that like algebra?)
Posted by Susan @ 8:20 am • Uncategorized
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March 1st, 2006 at 8:45 am, Anne Glamore Says:
It’s the greatest to watch your kids discover learning (even if we don’t fully understand it!)
This story reminded me of our house!
March 1st, 2006 at 8:52 am, ieatcrayonz Says:
You know, there just aren’t enough blog posts about math. Yippee! This made my day. It would be just my luck that Lauren doesn’t get my math genes, but that’s okay. We’ll have plenty of painting and music to fill our days.
March 1st, 2006 at 9:42 am, Felicity Says:
Numbers math? What the hell is that? In fact, what is this “numbers” of which you speak?
March 1st, 2006 at 10:05 am, Busy Mom Says:
I just wrote about math, too.
March 1st, 2006 at 10:14 am, Mary P. Says:
Algebra is not numbers math. It is letters math.
Henry may be following in the footsteps of my young cousin, now in third year some multi-descriptor engineering program at the University of Waterloo in Ontario.
When John was five or six, he was playing around with numbers in his head, chatting with his teacher father, who was marking high school (math) papers.
“Daddy, what’s 5+3?”
“Eight.”
“What’s 5-2? 3+7? 10-4?”
“Three. Ten. Six.”
Then he decideds to get silly and throw his dad a curve ball. Something he KNOWS is impossible. “What’s 4 - 7?” Smart boy.
“Negative three.”
Loooonng pause. Then this child, age no more than six, says…
“So 5 take away 6 would be negative one?”
The boy is a genius. He’s in this way complicated engineering program, and he has spare time! He’s also in a swing dance club. Too cool for words, my cousin John.
Maybe he’s Henry, fifteen or so years from now?
March 1st, 2006 at 11:03 am, courtney Says:
I to am mathematically challenged…failed all but one math class I took after middle school and the one I passed wasn’t until college. But you know what’s funny about that-I’m the one who balances the check book…
March 1st, 2006 at 11:08 am, Gina Says:
Ah, you and I led parallel math lives.
Rigorous prep school-check.
Bad, bad math grades-check.
Horrible homework sessions that ended in tears with accountant dad who loves math and thinks it’s easy and all you have to do is just “think!”-check
Sometimes he would get so frustrated with my inability that he would break the pencil tip from pressing down so hard while showing me for the umpteenth time how to multiply fractions and such.
Crossing my fingers that my son also inherits the recessive math gene!
March 1st, 2006 at 11:16 am, Nancy Says:
Sounds like you have a natural math whiz on your hands. It’s kind of fun to see your kids excel at things you didn’t have as much interest or skill in — my babe’s going to be athletic, which thrills this non-athlete mom to death.
March 1st, 2006 at 12:13 pm, Arwen Says:
We bought a math book and a penmanship book for Noodle and she won’t touch the penmanship book but sees the math book as good, clean fun and often chooses that over watching a show (unless lazytown is on).
March 1st, 2006 at 2:54 pm, The PIssed-Off Progressive Says:
I’m hoping my son inherited his dad’s math genes. I got through algebra and geometry, but barely squeaked through intermediate algebra. My teacher was always talking about how girls didn’t need math because they were going to be housewives anyway. (I thought he was joking, but a friend who is now a women’s studies professor at an Ivy League school, and so probably had a higher level of consciousness on this topic than I did, insisted that he wasn’t.)
After the last test I failed before dropping the class, he plunked the test down on my desk and said “What are you going to do with your life?” I looked him dead in the eye and said “I’m going to be a housewife.”
March 1st, 2006 at 3:58 pm, adria Says:
Congrats to Henry!
I love math, and I am hoping Daria will inherit my love for it.
March 1st, 2006 at 5:19 pm, standing still for once Says:
Welcome to the land of a new “SPECIAL INTEREST.”
March 1st, 2006 at 5:56 pm, daysgoby Says:
Oh pleeease let my kids have inherited the ‘math is FUN’ gene from their father, not the ‘OH GOD NO NOT MATH AGAIN’ gene from my side of the pool…
I love Henry.
March 1st, 2006 at 6:49 pm, Linsey Says:
Man, I hate math. My kids, i am afraid take after me…Everything in thier world is… “Mom did you see that? There was like 60-40-80 of those birds…”
March 1st, 2006 at 7:11 pm, Jenorama Says:
Damn. That’s great. My children are now starting to write stories, which makes me be just in heaven, but math? Oh, the sadness… we none of us are good at it.
March 1st, 2006 at 7:48 pm, Kristen Says:
OH, I’m so happy and excited for Henry. He obviously found a connection with that experience, given that he could so easily remember it and talk to you about the details.
I always notice those moments with Bryce, too - because normally when we ask him about school, his first answer is “Um, I don’t remember.” Then yesterday when I didn’t even ask, he spent 20 minutes telling me about kangaroos, how long their babies stay in the pouch, what color they are, etc.
I think it’s awesome that Henry got to help someone else with their math…what a great experience for him.
March 1st, 2006 at 9:23 pm, Susie Says:
OH I was the same with math. Luckily I married Mathman so I (hopefully) get out of the homework help.
March 1st, 2006 at 11:04 pm, Andie D. Says:
What great stuff!
I love when the light goes on for them. Especially in areas where it didn’t go off for us.
It’s such a joy to watch kids figure things out, or realize that they are good at something.
March 1st, 2006 at 11:49 pm, The Daring One Says:
Ooooooh! I love this story. It’s fun when things like this come full circle but not in a “you’ll get yours someday” kind of way.
March 2nd, 2006 at 8:11 am, KatieK Says:
My daughter loves math. Here in 8th grade in Istanbul they are starting trigonometry. Huh? Do you get that from stepping on nails? I’m, like, so right brained the left side of my head is empty. It’s a miracle I can even hold my head up straight. Yeah, girl, you go girl, uh huh, trig. Yeah. My dad was a statistics professor who said he only dreamed in streams of numbers all…night…long….
March 2nd, 2006 at 8:25 am, Suburban Turmoil Says:
Huzzah! It’s always nice to have a math whiz in the house.
We’ve got a bizarre math gene in my 12-year-old. WHERE does it come from? We simply can’t figure it out.
March 2nd, 2006 at 1:12 pm, Liz Says:
It is nice to have a math whiz. I am a very details person, so I would be a great accountant. However I cannot subtract.
March 2nd, 2006 at 1:53 pm, J's Mommy Says:
very cute post. i was always really sucky at math. i hope my daughter didn’t inherit that little gem.