The story of math in my life
Math and I have a very strange relationship, almost like a love/hate relationship. We’ve been in each other’s lives forever but we just can’t seem to get along. So let me take you back to the day when we first met (at least according to my memory). I was around four years old when my mother introduced math to me. I must have known math before because it seemed so familiar. Our relationship started out as fun and exciting. I was learning 1+1=2, 2+2=4, etc. with all these bright colored shaped. Once I started kindergarten I was really excited to take my new math friend with me. As the teacher stood in front of the class teaching us 1+1=2, I was so eager to raise my hand and answer any questions because I already knew the answers. This great relationship carried on until around the third grade. Math took me for a complete surprise when it was time to start dividing. I remember being so frustrated with math because I felt like it had betrayed me, our relationship was great and I couldn’t understand why it had to change. I soon learned that the relationship that math and I had would continue to grow and change. The only way I could feel comfortable with it was to communicate with it every day. Once I learned that and incorporated math in my daily life, we were back to having a fantastic relationship all the way through high school geography.
During my tenth grade year in high school math and I realized our relationship could never be the same. At this point in our relationship we had been through so much together and I couldn’t understand why we had to start adding triangles and all these strange formulas into the picture. I can honestly say that our relationship never went back to being great. My last high school math class was algebra. During algebra math and I kind of rekindled that old flame and started to bond again. I finally understood how to solve equations with letters. Unfortunately math is very needy and requires a lot of...