Mathematics - Tuesday, November 12, 2024.
Mathematics is the most beautiful and most powerful creation of the human spirit.
— Stefan Banach, Polish mathematician.
Algebra is like sheet music. The important thing isn't can you read music — it's can you hear it. Can you hear the music, Robert?
— Niels Bohr, Oppenheimer (2023).
Listening: Can You Hear The Music? by Ludwig Garrison.
All names used are fake
TW for mentions of depression and self-harm.
When I was in the grips of depression and the throes of self-harm, I attended my first college class: College Algebra, taught by my still favorite professor: Pr. Li. Before that class, math was my Achille's Heel, one of the many reasons I hated myself. It made me cry, cut, want to die. In fact when I had to do my first college algebra homework, I cried, cut myself, and then — as if things weren't bad enough — my laptop broke. In short, it was a bad introduction.
On my first day in class, I was late by minutes. Inside the cold classroom with windows of night and florescent lights, middle-aged adults sat, laptops and notebooks open, pencils ready. Professor Li was already lecturing, writing in red marker on the long rectangular wall whiteboard. Hurriedly, I slipped into the second row, following my older brother's advice to sit in the first few. Adjusting my spiked collar, I pulled out notebook and orange mechanical pencil and began to write.
Any confidence, any fluency, in math I now have, I owe to Professor Li. He explained everything so well, so simplistically; he did not meander, was not tangential; he was inspirational, continuing to teach despite a stroke leaving his dominant right arm paralyzed. On my first exam, I scored a 96%. When Professor Li returned the exam, he had written in red loopy lettering: Good
— a small compliment but one that swelled my heart with pride. In the end, it would be my lowest exam grade. I still have those four exams tacked on my wall, my As displayed not for approval but for my own self-confidence, self-esteem, for the reminders of what I learned — not just about math but about myself.
I found out several things from his class: One, I am academic by heart, a philomath; Two, college is one of the best experiences ever; Three, I am actually not that bad at math. In fact, I may even be slightly good at it. I loved studying; I loved the homework. Yes, sometimes I was frustrated with concepts I could never master (darn little matrixes!), but I loved it. I loved going to class, even if it was dark and cold outside. My love for it all was a shock, but also a gift. I am forever thankful for having Professor Li as my teacher.
Yet Professor Li isn't my only inspiration in mathematics. It may be trite to say, but Oppenheimer (2023), my favorite movie ever, renewed my interest in math months after the class was over — not just math, but history and all of S.T.E.M. Geez, that movie… Art truly is impactful. In many ways, it functioned as my College Algebra class functioned: inspiring me, shaping me, a catalyst for self-discovery. Even now I look to it for motivation, inspiration, guidance.
I hope to get an Associate's of Science in Mathematics from the college I'm currently attending. I'm willing to stay in this town, willing to put off a university transfer, willing to spend money and time for it. What will I do with it? I ask you: Why does it matter? Why can't we learning things for learning's sake? Of course, I will put it to good use, but I don't want to do it because it's practical — I want to do it because I adore math, because I want to understand — I want to hear the music.