Spiderpig wrote:
Well, when I was six or seven, I often got bored and did math exercises from our textbook long before I was supposed to. When the teacher found out, she punished me by forbidding me to do any math at all. The ban was never formally lifted; it was simply forgotten at the beginning of the following school year, when she no longer taught us. It managed to make me feel guilty even for thinking of numbers whenever they came up in ordinary conversation, even in the middle of my summer holidays. Besides, I was openly considered pretty dumb, together with another student, so each of us was assigned a bright classmate to watch us at all times, and mine was only glad to make sure I didn’t get to indulge my illicit appetite for math.
I find it hard to even put into words how angry this makes me feel.
I'm not good at maths. I'm not specifically bad. Just not good. In my pre-med year I had a maths professor that looked like John Cleese and who would spend the whole session scribbling on the three sides of the room with blackboards. Just the pure amount of squeaky chalk on blackboard was enough to make following his line of though near impossible. But if that wasn't enough, he would stop in the middle, hit himself in the forehead and go back and erase half of it! In the end I realised if I got high enough marks in physics and chemistry I could just skip maths. My friend took pity on me on the night before the exam and he sat down and taught me enough to get a pass mark.
Perhaps the fact that it has such clear rules is what throws me. I am not good with rules. For example, I can cook but I can't cook from a recipe. Languages are a problem for me too. I just blend them all together.
Thankfully I left med school after the first year as I would have made a seriously lousy doctor.
_________________
"I will file you under "L" for people I love most. "