One of the striking things about math education for me is that most of the common objections to how the material is taught have really simple answers, but I have never in my life heard a math instructor provide those answers.
For example, something you hear a lot is: “why am I losing points for not showing my work when I got the correct answer?”, or even “why are we being told to use this procedure at all when the answers are so obvious?”.
There answer to both of those questions, of course, is: “Because what’s actually being taught is a problem-solving method that works for big and complicated problems as well as small and simple ones. We practice it with the simple ones first so that you can easily compare your intuitive solution with the results of applying the method and know whether you did it right. That way, when we get to the complicated ones where the intuitive approach doesn’t work, you can have confidence that you practised the method correctly.”
Not once in two decades of schooling did I hear that rationale offered – if an instructor deigned to address the objections at all, their response typically boiled down to some variation of “because this is how it’s done”.
Like, what’s difficult about this?
“Every historian wants to know what really happened in the past. That means – at a minimum – gaining…”
“Every historian wants to know what really happened in the past. That means – at a minimum – gaining access to records, the more detailed and accurate, the closer to the actual events, the better. But in our hearts we always want more than we can ever have: we want to read documents that are lost forever; to interview people long dead; to be eyewitness to the great events that changed the course of history. We want that in part because we want to solve mysteries, we do want to know the truth about the past.”
– Byron Hollinshead and Theodore K. Rabb (eds.), I Wish I’d Been There, Book Two.
“One of them has said too much; one of them has felt too much.”
“One of them has said too much; one of them has felt too much.”
– Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall.
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forthegothicheroine:Sometimes reading Arthuriana feels like reading Alice in Wonderland.“Well,” said…
Sometimes reading Arthuriana feels like reading Alice in Wonderland.
“Well,” said Alice, “these are a dreadfully strange assortment of objects!”
“They all symbolize different aspects of Our Lord’s martyrdom,” said the Fisher King, casting a line into his teacup.
“Indeed. I am sure everything symbolizes something else, for if everything was only itself I should be very confused. Might I ask what the point of the bleeding lance is?”
Alice regretted asking the question as soon as she had done so, for she saw the pun that would likely be made about the word point. Instead, however, the room erupted in applause and shouts of “The Grail! She has achieved the Grail!”
The next castle she visited, Alice resolved to herself as the inhabitants of this one danced for joy, would be more sensible.
“Each of us needs something of an island in his life—if not an actual island, at least some place, or…”
“Each of us needs something of an island in his life—if not an actual island, at least some place, or space in time, in which to be himself, free to cultivate his differences from others.”
– John Keats, Of Time and an Island.
first-son-of-finwe: I’ve realised that what I miss about fantasy is it being truly escapist. I miss…
I’ve realised that what I miss about fantasy is it being truly escapist. I miss it depicting places where I would actually want to go.
Every dang kid I knew waited for their Hogwarts acceptance letter. Reading the books and seeing it on screen gave you this warm, fuzzy feeling and a feeling of longing, even when they were in danger and fighting monsters and evil wizards, you want to be there.
You want to go to Middle Earth, see hobbits and elves and dwarves and run through this land of incredible beauty, mysticism and magic.
You want to be in the TARDIS, seeing the universe.
The more recent trend of fantasy is this gritty, dark realism and places where you would just never want to go. I don’t want to go to Westeros. I don’t want to be in The Hunger Games, I don’t particularly want to be in The Witcher universe. I’m living in the world of Black Mirror and I hate it.
Fantasy used to say “hey our world kinda sucks but here’s a cooler one”, but now it says “hey our world kinda sucks, but here’s an even worse one.”
That isn’t to say that the above are bad. They’re not.
But I miss beautiful, escapist fantasy that gives me a break. That takes me somewhere magical, somewhere otherworldly and gives me messages of hope and optimism in the face of darkness. I really, really miss that.
“For we each of us deserve everything, every luxury that was ever piled in the tombs of the dead…”
“For we each of us deserve everything, every luxury that was ever piled in the tombs of the dead kings, and we each of us deserve nothing, not a mouthful of bread in hunger. Have we not eaten while another starved? Will you punish us for that? Will you reward us for the virtue of starving while others ate? No man earns punishment, no man earns reward. Free your mind of the idea of deserving, the idea of earning, and you will begin to be able to think.”
– Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed.
frankiebleu: You know what? I am annoying sometimes. And that’s okay. It’s not the death sentence…
You know what?
I am annoying sometimes.
And that’s okay. It’s not the death sentence I was led to believe. People will love me even if I can’t read their signals sometimes. Not understanding is forgivable. I don’t have to hold myself back so I don’t annoy anyone ever.
The people who love me know I get excited. And I am still loved.
dustypalms: *daydreams about pretty envelopes* 🐌💌💜prints |…
*daydreams about pretty envelopes* 🐌💌💜