Math Survival Guide: I Was a Mathphobe! 03

:: I Was a Mathphobe!
Pages: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

 "I know the price of success: dedication, hard work,
and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen."
-- Frank Lloyd Wright

          My next math teacher was a pretty nice man.  I don’t remember learning

any math, but I do remember that it wasn’t safe to sit in the front row because

he sprayed spit when he talked.  (Do you see a “too much saliva” theme going

on here too?  What’s with that?)


          Now, on to eighth grade – Prealgebra – I think.   I had math during 7th

period and there was an interesting kid in our class named David.   I’m sure

you had a kid like David in one of your classes.  Everyone did.  I think it was a

state requirement.  He was the kid who always orchestrated the dropping of

textbooks at exactly 2:15, the kid who knew how to convert a Bic pen into a

pellet shooter and the kid who always had enough spit for 18 spit wads (all to

be aimed at the classroom clock).  That kid.  Remember him?  My teacher

hated that kid… and it felt like she hated the rest of us because of him.  So,

between David and what seemed to be a chronic case of PMS on my teacher's

part, I didn’t learn any math that year.  I’m sure she dreaded us as much as we

dreaded her.  I saw her walking across campus the next year and she was

really nice to me.   Seemed like a different person


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