Math class: every year it claims the mental states of millions of high school students around the world through sheer boredom and stress.  Whether it be desperately cramming for a quiz at four in the morning or memorizing seemingly useless formulas, adolescents have long associated math class with some of the most oppressive, time-wasting, and brain-numbing experiences in their daily lives.  So why am I writing about this in an essay that is supposed to explore the blossoming of my relationship with aesthetics?  

The subject of math is often seen as the polar opposite of English and language arts.  Out of all of the core subjects, its curriculum is perhaps the most standardized. The lesson structure is notoriously known by students for being incredibly rigid and repetitive.  The contrast with the more self-expressive aesthetics is obvious.  However, examining the differences between the two fields has helped me to contextualize my relationship with aesthetics and develop a reasoning as to why I feel attracted to different aspects of art and writing.

I would first like to begin by explaining my relationship with math.  Unlike many of my peers, throughout my education I have constantly excelled at math.  This is almost completely due to my mother.  Ever since I was young, my mom would tirelessly work to ensure I had a stellar understanding of math.  She would always find extra problems and assign them for me to complete, as well as acclimating me to topics which we had not yet covered in school. Thus, due to constant practice and repetition I have been able to build a strong understanding of math.  I was also able to perform extremely well in all of my math classes with fair ease, and I never had to worry about my grades.  

From elementary school until 8th grade, I did not hold particularly strong feelings towards any of my classes in school, including math.  I attended a relatively easy middle school, and thus I was more focused on the people in my classes rather than stressing about the work itself.  I did have teachers whom I developed special connections with, but this was almost always due to us sharing interests outside of the classroom (such as watching basketball or football).  Although the lenience of my middle school allowed me to explore outside interests and develop personal hobbies, it also prevented me from facing the same mental challenges I have experienced in high school.  The problem with this is that I was never truly forced to consider the reasons why I was learning different subjects or how to improve.  My work would almost always be accepted by my teachers, and I never had a strong reason to work to change myself beyond the natural academic development which came with growing older.   Because of my lack of connection with my school classes, I would always have trouble when someone asked me what my favorite class was.  However, up until around 9th grade I remember that I would always say I liked math the most.  

Looking back upon it, I realize that this “like” was completely different from the joy I take in learning now.  I never felt any special affinity to math principles or applying what was taught to me outside of the classroom.  Rather, what I enjoyed was a feeling of dominance I got from the math class itself.  Almost all of my peers struggled with and complained about learning math, and it felt really good having an extremely developed skill.  In many ways, I derived much of my early confidence from my proficiency in math.  Thus, at a time when I still did not fully realize what educational enjoyment truly felt like, it was only natural that I would gravitate towards the class with which I associated the most positive emotion.  I realize now that my enjoyment with math was centered around my performance and success, rather than the subject itself.

However, there comes a point in everyone’s life where a certain realization dawns.  This is the realization that there will always be someone better than you at what you love doing.  For me, this realization arrived sometime in early high school.  I don’t associate a particular moment with this realization; rather, I believe it was the product of seeing many incredibly talented people around me over time.  I slowly began to realize that there was always someone astronomically more talented and skilled at math than me.  As my feeling of dominance faded, I was left with a sense of detachment and confusion towards the subject itself.  I certainly didn’t hate math class; my mindset towards the subject merely returned to a state of indifference and obligation.  I continued to score extremely well on my tests and homework, but what was the point if there was always going to be a nine year old whiz kid from Russia who was learning math ten years ahead of me?  Thus, I gradually began to see math class as unfulfilling and, frankly, not very fun.

As I have been able to explore different classes and find ones I truly enjoy taking, I think I have finally come to a conclusion as to why math seems so unfilling.  The current structure of most United States math curriculum fails at encouraging individuality and originality.  This is in part because the curriculum is oppressively repetitive and, quite frankly, boring.  Lessons are designed with high rigidity in which order matters and problems must be solved a certain way.  Furthermore, the ways in which math is taught are monotonous and repetitive.  Every single math class I have taken follows the same basic structure of a teacher lecturing for the entirety of the class period.  The only ways teachers test proficiency are through written exams and homework.  The lesson structure is almost never varied, and each class becomes indistinguishable save the actual material taught.  In many ways, math class reminds me of the Tale of Sisyphus.  Each unit, students begin from the bottom of the hill, and they must work their way up through constant repetition of practice problems.  However, each time they master a new skill and the top of the hill appears in sight, their boulder rolls back down and a new unit is started.  Each unit is taught in the exact same manner despite covering new material, such that eventually each trip up and down the hill begins to feel exactly the same.  This uniformity sets an intimidating precedent for how people experience the subject itself.

Perhaps the most off putting part about math class is the lack of opportunity for original creation students receive.  Every single problem which shows up on an assessment or homework assignment has been specifically designed by someone who already knows the answer.  The creator of the problem has already mapped out a correct solution beyond doubt, and the student’s job is to merely follow in his or her footsteps.  Thus, it feels as if students never receive a chance to contribute anything new to math by solving the problem.  Of course, at the highest level mathematicians can work to contribute unique ideas by exploring new theorems and publishing original proofs.  However, this opportunity is all but nonexistent at the high school level.  It takes years upon years of rigorous studying to reach this level, and it would be impossible to expect this dedication out of the vast majority of students.

In particular, I believe the insistence on showing one’s work is a testament to the lack of freedom students enjoy in mathematical education.  Although showing one’s work can be seen as a process of self-expression, it largely works to promote uniformity.  Teachers examine students’ work in order to discern whether they truly understand the method they have been taught.  If a student deviates from this set procedure, she is punished.  Then, teachers work to explain to the student why their method is the optimal one to use.  Once in a blue moon, a student might show her teacher an alternate way of thinking which also works.  In this scenario, the teacher likely still prefers his or her own method, and often asks the student to use it in the future.  From the student’s perspective, this can be incredibly frustrating because it feels as if her way of thinking, despite producing the same answer, is not accepted.  This especially holds true if her teacher lacks the patience and empathy to properly explain why she should use another method.  

With all this being said, taking an objective view of math reveals that there often isn’t really anyone at fault.  As a discipline, math is inherently more difficult to incorporate individuality into than other subjects.  This is because, as a proofs-based field, math relies on establishing a foundation of knowledge and then building upon it.  The thinkers who paved our current understanding of math did so by developing base principles and then using those to prove increasingly complex theorems. The development of the field of math has always followed this pattern, and it seems difficult to envision an alternate method of progression.  I understand from experience that math takes repetition to truly master, even though this repetition can be mind-numbingly tedious.  Standardizing the ways in which we show our work is also crucial to learning math because it provides an accessible guideline for communication.  The linear style of learning is inherent to math, and it is necessary to follow.  

However, with narrative-based subjects such as history and language arts, it is not always necessary to follow a single straight trajectory.  Although history studies time, which is indeed linear, one can learn about different historical moments or peoples without having to know about all of the groups preceding them.  For example, one can develop a deep understanding of ancient Roman civilization without necessarily having learned about cavemen first.  English is also similar in that one can practice and develop different writing and reading skills without following a certain predefined path.  A writer can focus on developing his skill for writing a strong thesis statement without necessarily having mastered the art of writing in passive voice.  There are definitely skills which directly build into others, and all language arts skills are at least loosely related to one another, but my point is that there is no de facto way to learn how to write or read.  If a writer wanted to learn a certain skill, there are a countless number of different directions he could follow.

Perhaps what I enjoy the most about history and English is that there is boundless room for originality.  I understand that in many ways, these narrative-based classes can be similar to math.  Every year, millions of students read the same stories in English and are given similar prompts to write essays about.  However, no two essays will ever be the same (disregarding plagiarism, of course).  Even though the typical essay prompt provides guidelines for writing, there are endless opportunities for one to make artistic decisions. It is still up to the student to decide what message to deliver, how to present and organize information, and what writing style to use.  In contrast with math, each of these questions provides a crossroads for students to make a decision, rather than an opportunity to make a mistake.  

This inherently creative aspect of writing has been a primary source of my aesthetic enjoyment.  Being able to develop a unique writing style is incredibly fulfilling because it is something that can’t be imitated.  Although everyone develops their own writing style only after having been exposed to many different aesthetic works, the collaboration among an amalgamation of influences is something that is borne wholly out of individual creativity.  Moreover, being able to express original ideas in writing has provided me with my happiest aesthetic moments.  Being forced to develop and support an argument can be a real pain, but I notice that when I am finally able to perfect an approach to a topic I feel a certain sense of satisfaction which can’t be felt anywhere else.  There are definitely times in which I feel accomplished for solving a difficult math problem, but I am also always subconsciously reminded that someone could solve the same problem with much less effort.  As I have been able to develop my identity as a writer and improve my skills, I have also come to realize the true nature of my relationship with math.  I have never felt the same sense of gratification I receive from developing an original thesis in math.  The freedom of learning that exists in aesthetics and writing heavily contrasts with the structure of math, and it has taught me that originality is crucial to my enjoyment of education.

Despite the inherent need for math to have structure, I believe it holds potential for creativity and individuality if we can address the root of the problem.  Particularly, I believe the main problem with the current math curriculum that we need to solve is the underemphasis on the application of mathematical principles.  This underemphasis leads students to see the subject as disconnected and irrelevant.  The true punishment in the Tale of Sisyphus is not the unending physical labor; it is the fact that Sisyphus’s labor is and always will be for naught.  Many students despise learning math because they feel it will be inapplicable to the rest of their lives.  To add to this, almost all of the math students learn up until their last few years of high school can be solved using a calculator.  Of course, math is essential to learn for the improvement of society, but its effect is largely denied if its scholars can’t become interested or feel its relevance.  There are several fields which approach the solution to this dilemma of math’s seeming uselessness.  Physics applies math to answer various questions about our physical world.  Similarly, statistics also uses math to produce judgements about a plethora of different topics.  However, both of these subjects are conventionally taught extremely late in our academic careers.  Thus, by the time a student actually takes these classes, he or she has most likely formed an opinion on the subject which will be difficult to change.  

I believe one solution to remedy this problem would be to constantly incorporate outside application and interests into math learning.  Math holds relevance to an incredible array of different subjects, and highlighting the usefulness of each unit will be key to garnering more genuine interest.  Many teachers try their best to incorporate real-world examples into their math problems (i.e. the stereotype of a grocery store customer purchasing an ungodly number of watermelons), but it is not enough.  To integrate math with real-world interests, students should be introduced to it as a tool used for a certain purpose, rather than using the interest to contextualize the math.   One classic example of an interesting real-world application could be sports, where numbers are used on a daily basis to evaluate a player’s performance.  Using the Internet is also another viable option.  Coding is becoming an increasingly valuable skill because of its numerous applications, and it heavily involves using mathematical principles such as logic.  I think departing from the constantly rigid structure of math curriculum could also provide enormous benefit to the enjoyment of the students.  Encouraging interactivity between students will disrupt the monotony of the isolated teacher-to-student lecture.  I recognize that deviating from the current structure of math teaching would most likely hamper its efficiency, but I believe that instilling genuine interest in students is more than worth the lost time.

Ultimately, I find the study of math class fascinating because it sheds light into why I enjoy certain experiences more than others.  The evolution of my relationship with math has revealed to me the importance of originality to my enjoyment.  Furthermore, the dilemma of wanting to diversify the way math is taught while staying true to its nature is captivating because there does not seem to be an overwhelmingly correct answer.  No one is at fault; it’s just the way things are.  However, I’m still holding out hope that math can be genuinely fun for me.  I know that there are opportunities to incorporate math into all of my interests, and I would hate to see my mathematical proficiency go to waste just because I didn’t find my academic experience fulfilling.  Despite my dissatisfaction with math, it has still been a major catalyst for personal growth.  I have been able to mature to the point where I don’t care that there will always be someone better than me at anything I do, because a singular activity does not wholly define my identity.  Hopefully one day I can achieve the same sense of gratification with math that I do from aesthetics.  By using math as a means to further my own interests, I am positive that there is room to breed a unique type of creativity and originality.