Chapter Sixty-One: Math (not maths) (~jinghan)
Okay, so being on exchange, I actually have to study. (So unfair, right?)
“So what’s your major?” is one of those typical questions people ask you when they first meet you.
“Maths.”
“Mass…?”
“Ma-TH-s”
“Oh! Math! Is it hard?”
Yeah American’s call it “math”.
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The thing about uni in America is that I have maths homework every week. No it’s not that they’re more strict here, if anything the pace of the course is slightly slower*- they apparently just have more money to pay the TAs (Teaching Assistants) to mark. I find my homework on the massive pile scattered across the desk at the front of the discussion classroom.
Finding mine, I notice that I got 6/10 – not awful. But opening it up and looking at the questions that were marked I have some big fat zeros marked next to (what seems like) several questions and it feels much less cheerful. No “oh hey here’s a pity mark” just big fat zero and a scrawled comment like
Which feels demeaning when paired with a big fat zero.
“Arg. I’m so not into maths at the moment,” I whinge in the following weeks. I keep finding things bad about it.
“People seem to care more about getting hints on the homework than actually engaging in discussion during tutorials,” I complain.
“Why do they have to teach us so fast? There’s no time to consolidate the learning,” I whine.
“Learning about psychology and theology are so much more interesting at the moment that I kinda keep putting math on the back burner…” (Did I say ‘math’? It’s rubbing off on me, sorry…)
“I’m just so over studying. I’ve been doing it for 13 years of my life already!”
It makes it worse that I’m supposed to be majoring in this – which means more and harder subjects to come.
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It’s crack down week. Like my psychology teacher said when she was talking about fixed-interval reinforcement – “if you only reward someone on a time basis they will slack off until just before pay day. So, what does this remind you of? I’ll give you a hint: Sit around on my bum… oh mid-term! study study study study… ah… laze around… oh mid-term study study study study… ”
In other words, I have a number theory mid-term exam at the end of this week. I just had a psychology exam, and had spent the last week pouring over psychology notes. This week I get my psychology homework done as quickly and as early in the week as possible and knuckle down on number theory. I’m surprised to find that I am fully capable of all the theory. And before I know it I’ve spent a solid six hours looking over the subject all in one day and am feeling pretty cosy about most of the content. I come back the next day hungry for more time to study, I’m on the verge of cranky when people ask me to meet up with them (sorry, nice people!). Jinghan wants her maths-ego back.
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Now, number theory is one thing. Algebra – oh – Algebra is a whole bigger kettle of fish. Those big fat zeros? That’s algebra. And don’t go thinking “3x+2 = 5 find x” Algebra. This is like: “Let G be a group, with multiplicative notation. We define an opposite group Gº with law of composition a∘b=ba. Prove that this defines a group.” Harmless words like “group” take on a whole knew meaning.
Anyway, I discovered that I actually understand everything that is going on in lectures… so maybe I should stop whinging so much and actually do some work and then see if it’s too hard for me. So I do some work. I think harder about making my proofs have better logic. (yeah okay maybe I was a little bit cut by the “you jumped from something clear to the end of the proof” comment…)
I walk to discussion class with dread in my heart. My 6/10 had improved to a 7/10 but the fact that it could plummet to something like -3/10 with just a few badly thought out proofs… (okay okay I exaggerate a little) But my ego was still black as soot because my second homework had this comment:
(Oh god! They don’t even like my paper! How can I possibly do well at this subject?!)
So I walk to discussion class to pick up my homework from the previous week with dread in my heart. I find my name among the pile of papers and pull it out…
And there! At the top of the paper, a little inconspicuous “10”. Really?! I leaf through… no zeros. Really?!
And have you ever tried very hard to suppress a smile but failed? Well I did that. I flipped the paper down on my desk in an attempt to be at least somewhat humble. But yes! Yes! I’m not smiling because I needed a good mark. I needed to believe that I could master this subject. And now I have proof of that. (haha no pun intended… much)
Jinghan:1 Algebra: … well… Algebra: x
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It’s funny how everything changes when you believe you have a real chance at getting it even with a subject: you feel like you have more friendly people to talk to in the class, you feel like your proof vocabulary has increased from nothing to substantial, homework is cool, life is good, the american university system seems amazing – (yeah, homework every week! It totally helps me keep up with the course better! Who me? I never whinged about this!)
Welcome back Jinghan’s maths ego. But more importantly – welcome back Jinghan’s hunger to learn. I’m looking forward (yeah I actually said that) to studying my arse off this coming week in the hope to at least feel good about myself when I walk into my Algebra mid-term exam. (No comment on getting a good mark or anything.)
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