First College Paper: My “Math Biography”
Math & Me
It’s an interesting task to look back on my life with the concept of math in mind, or, more specifically, my relation to its practical use. Where do I begin our story? I’ll try skipping ahead two years after my birth. A quirky kind of geometry found its way into my life when I developed a love (some of my family members would say addiction) for playing with Legos. No one appreciated the form, integrity, and color-coordination of a sound Lego structure more than I did. Indeed, solidarity, efficiency, and symmetry in all of its forms were values I upheld in my conventional practice of building Legos. Learning the individual pieces like words in a language, I began to build structures in my head before fitting them together on a more tangible plane. This catalyzed an appreciation for evenness and order. In retrospect, it’s almost humorous to see how alike my hypothetical creations were to Plato’s “forms”- perfect models of reality in my head. It was often frustrating to see their real-world manifestations. Admittedly, I had to come to terms with the odd, seemingly irrational pieces that caused me such grief. The 3x2’s, and the 3x3’s were rarely a help to my code of simplicity. The fact that a thick piece was equal to three thin pieces vertically stacked was frustrating for me. It was here I learned to pick my battles with math- something the law has forbidden me to do in my former years.
Reaching the peak of my abilities at the age of five, I specialized in the engineering of aircraft. Well, theoretical aircraft anyway. Using my father’s knowledge of aerodynamics as reference, I became well versed in the necessities an object needs to take flight. Yaw, pitch, and roll became my guiding principles as an engineer. My creations would have suppositional control over every axis necessary in our three-dimensional world. One can imagine how dumbfounded and frankly, a bit angry I was when I saw the Millennium Falcon take flight in “Star Wars.” It had no wings, no tail (not to mention that goofy sidearm cockpit and satellite dish), and I was supposed to believe this thing could take atmospheric flight? Even though I had quite a valid response to the Millennium Falcon, especially for a boy of five years, it was from about then on that I let math or its affiliates seem to get the best of me.
I recall a time in kindergarten where I proudly declared that I could actually count to the very large number of 100. Not a year had passed before I realized what in the past I had only suspected: counting to 100 required a methodology not unlike counting to 200, 300, or even 1,000. One just had to start over, in a sense, every time they reached an interval of 100. I finally knew how all the other kids did it. Thankfully for anyone who might have been standing around me at that point, I never actually took the time to count to 1,000, but, indeed, I knew just how to go about it. Around this period of my life, I learned the formal practice of addition and subtraction. They were simple enough. Multiplication and division, however, required a bit of effort. Once numbers of multiple digits came into this picture, I was very frustrated. Perfecting the art however, I moved on to 5th grade where I learned of the daunting fraction. Applying the facets of division, I could grasp the concept well, but putting it to use was a struggle for me. Eventually understanding it, I thought my knowledge in arithmetic to be thorough. Then middle school happened.
Math in middle school and high school were little other than troubling for me. I feel as though algebra and I are still mere acquaintances, holding a small conversation from time to time, but never quite reaching a deeper understanding of each other. Geometry is like an old friend who’s changed. We have a few kicks here and there. It’s easy for us to reminisce about the good old days of shapes and sizes. Occasionally though, it requires me to exercise in its “proofs,” or worse, I have to be third wheel when geometry and algebra decide to partner up like they often do. Usually, I would walk away with this thought in mind, “When it’s not simple, it’s not fun anymore.” But here I stand at the forefront of my education ready to make it simple. With the hopes of finally learning the challenging dialects in the language of math, I turn to my college education. So I may have a comforting intelligence like I once did, happy with a pile of Legos in my lap, please, teach me.
