I was that average high school student sitting in the back row, center seat during algebra class every afternoon at 2:00. You know the type, if you were not the type yourself. I watched the clock intensely, slumped down in my seat just far enough so that the tall boy who sat in front of me blocked my eyes from meeting my teacher’s. Algebra was a religious class for me; I don’t think I prayed so much in an hour’s time to “not be called on”. Homework made me angry, tests made me nervous, and my cumulative grade was just shy of pathetic. If there were a letter grade to apply to my four years of math scores, it would be “P”. But why did I care? I knew, I just knew, that once I graduated from this barbaric teenage oppression, I would be free at last, free at last.
Fast forward six years, and I am a young career woman looking to spend my first paycheck on a new “work outfit”. I hit the mall at just the right time- one week after the holiday season when all my favorite designers were marketing their 40% off sales. With my debit card in one hand, I was prepared to fight the crowds to find that white dress coat and tall black boots that I had been eyeing for months and check out before the goods were gone. But as I perused the shelves in my favorite store, JCrew, I was faced with the unthinkable: I needed to calculate exactly how much this coat was to determine if I had enough money left over to buy my boots.
With a rush of panic, I froze in the aisle and scrambled in my purse for my phone (which was my calculator, of course). Digging throughout my oversized bag- now I know one reason why small bags are a good idea- I realized I would have to calculate the cost in my head if I wanted to hold on to the last coat in my size. “Okay, stay calm, Monica…40% is just 4 times 10…so 10% off would be….and then add that up four times…subtract from the tag price…” I felt like a million bucks. And if I had to figure out 40% of a million bucks, I could’ve done that, too. With a bit of confidence, I found myself traveling throughout the store calculating the sale price of everything I picked up. Then I went into the next store. A new backpack, 20% off? How about a set of 3 DVDs for $36 instead of $13 each?
It was not only in my shopping sprees where math became valuable. It was the same at the grocery store when I had to buy food to feed myself, my broke, renting-a-studio, paying-car-insurance self for one week when I only had forty dollars. Math became crucial when I learned a tough lesson about balancing my checkbook. Apparently going to the ATM and printing a balance receipt of my checking account doesn’t qualify as actually balancing my checkbook. Four overdraft fees later, I began doing the math and recording the correct balance in my checkbook, saving myself a lot of money in unnecessary fees.
Math somehow crept into every part of my life: while out to dinner with friends, I started to calculate which meal was a better deal; watching the fluctuating gas prices, I began recording my miles per gallon to determine if highway miles really do save more than city driving. Which credit card had lower interest rates? Is it better to buy a gallon of vanilla soy milk on sale, or buy two half-gallons at regular price? Like a bad haircut, math went with me wherever I went, as much as I tried to deny its existence.
The moral of the story is this: math is impossible to avoid. Just about every day, in every situation, you will be required to solve the most basic of mathematical problems. But have no fear; even if you are like me and still add up numbers by imagining a giant black and white dice floating in the air, math can be your friend. But don’t try to tell high school students that- they won’t believe you. I never did.
