The Milan News-Leader
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No easy formula for sparking math interest
PUBLISHED: February 7, 2008
To my high school math teachers, none of whose names I can recall because as is common with horrific memories I'm sure they have been repressed in some dark corner of my mind, I apologize.
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I had no cause to curse you.
You tried, after all. Some of you, in fact, tried very hard. Turns out, many, many years later, I can admit it was my fault -- and not yours -- that I hated math. It was my fault that my mind shut down as soon as I read any story problem that began "A train leaves the station heading west at 82 mph" and my eyes glazed over at the first sign of a letter partnered with an exponent.
Rather than taking a deep breath and searching for some confidence that I could tackle the problem, I sank my face in my hands and groaned aloud, presupposing and therefore ensuring that the answer would elude me.
Math class was a most unpleasant experience. I groaned and pounded my head a lot. It was your classic case of math anxiety.
Decades removed from a high school math classroom (and glad for it), I have on my hands now a math problem of an altogether different nature. One I am determined to solve.
In recent months, my 6-year-old daughter has found great fun in equations and when we travel in the car has taken to asking me to quiz her with math problems.
We began with simple addition and subtraction and then moved into multiplication and some division.
On occasion, after shouting out the answer, she would loudly declare: "I figured that out in my head!"
I thrilled at the thought that my first-grader loved math.
And then about two weeks ago, I noticed an abrupt change. When I posed to her somewhat more complicated math problems, her first response was an immediate, "I don't know" and a self-conscious giggle. She might then with a shrug of her shoulders throw out an answer that was a far-off guess.
It didn't take me long to recognize what had happened -- my daughter was suddenly reluctant to appear smart.
I sat her down and looked her straight in the eyes.
"Don't ever think first that you don't know something," I said. "Just because something sounds too hard, doesn't mean it is too hard. I want you to think about it first and not just give up right away. OK?"
She said OK.
Then I asked, "And where did you see somebody acting silly when they didn't know an answer?"
She couldn't say.
"Well, I don't like that," I said. "I don't want you to do that. OK?"
She said OK.
She did it again the next day, though, and I realized I had a math problem that might take a while to work out.
Study after study, such as one conducted by the American Association of University Women, has shown that girls' self-esteem, confidence, and interest in math and science falter as they grow up.
"Girls' positive attitudes toward mathematics decline as they grow older," concludes an article in Rural Educator. "Initially girls have more positive attitudes toward math than boys do, but as they continue in school, girls' attitudes become more negative."
One study that appeared in the Journal of Educational Psychology shows that a girl's belief that she doesn't have mathematical ability begins early in her education and persists into junior high.
Well, I'm having none of that.
My daughter may not end up being any kind of math whiz (God knows her paternal genes argue against the likelihood of that happening), but she will not be intimidated or wrongly convinced that she is not good at the subject.
There's another side to this that troubles me, and that is my daughter's giggle when she says, "I don't know."
I don't like it. I don't like the developing mindset it portends. There is nothing cute about not thinking. It's not charming and it's not becoming.
And that's what I told her.
I understand where she got the idea that it was, of course. Our daughters are inundated with images of pop personalities in the vein of Paris Hilton who present vapidity as somehow attractive.
Parents must counteract that negative influence and we must engage in the battle early.
It's a knotty problem.
But unlike my response to math problems in high school, on this one I cannot just put my face in my hands and groan because the problem is too hard. Too much is at stake.
This time, I have to work out a solution.
Staff Writer Brian Cox can be reached at 429-7380 or bcox@heritage.com.
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