The Math Boyfriend

Throughout school I was generally pretty good in math.  I was fine with my multiplication tables, algebra, geometry. For a girl, I was doing very well.  Now that may seem like a self-deprecating and sexist thing to say; however, new data tells us something about males and females and IQs, and also our performance in things like math. I just Googled and found this:

When we look at mean IQ scores between men and women, most studies show… drumroll, please¼virtually no difference! ¼ It’s like comparing apples to slightly different apples – there might be some subtle variations, but overall, they’re pretty darn similar.

But here’s where things get interesting. While the averages are similar, the distribution of IQ scores across genders shows some intriguing patterns.¼ Men tend to have a slightly wider distribution, meaning there are more men at both the very high and very low ends of the IQ spectrum. Women, on the other hand, tend to cluster more around the average.

https://neurolaunch.com/do-men-or-women-have-higher-iq/

All through school I just thought I couldn’t measure up and wasn’t smart enough, because I could never compete with the smart math/science guys.  Now I know there is statistical and real data regarding why I wasn’t as great at math, and that it is not a personal failing. What a relief.

Of course me being me, this is not the reason why I got a C the first semester of Algebra II/Trig in high school.

Mr. Anderson was our teacher, and he had a policy:  if you scored perfect on the weekly test, then you didn’t have to turn in the homework for the next week, but you still had to take the test on Friday.  Now from September through November I had been doing well with Algebra II; but, low and behold, come November I got a perfect on a test.  No more homework for me!  I told myself that I was mastering the material just fine in class, but of course I failed the next text.  Completely failed.

Then I continued to struggle, because it all keeps building.  And I kept, shall we say, underperforming.  I didn’t get all Fs, but I dropped from an A to a C pretty rapidly. I was doing my homework and trying, but not catching up. 

So, one day during class Mr. Anderson calls me up to his desk.  He says, “You know, Sharie, all those boys you sit with in the back, they’re all getting As and you’re getting a C.  If instead of flirting with them you got them to help you with your homework, you might be getting an A too.” Of course I rolled my eyes and went back to my desk.  But it was true, I sat with three guys I knew from band, and they were all math whizzes, one in particular.  But I wasn’t going to ask them for help, because the flirting was too much fun and why would I waste that time on math? So I bumbled along the rest of the semester getting a C, and the semester finally ended in January. 

For the second semester we started the all-new subject of trigonometry, and trig and I got along just fine, and I restored my status as an A math student.

But, we should also note that, starting in March, the best math whiz and I started going out.  Puppy love.  He eventually got a ridiculously high SAT score and had multiple scholarship offers.  But he and I also did our math homework together, and that worked very well for me.

The next year we all took Math Analysis, which was advanced algebra and beginning calculus.  This was taught by Mr. Krogh.  I have to assume Mr. Krogh was a decent mathematician, but he also moonlighted as a bartender, and it showed.  It was the 80s but his hair was still in the 70s, and he would wear shiny shirts that he unbuttoned at least one button too far.  And he wore chunky chains with large medallions.  Not a good look, but what can you expect from a math teacher? (My apologies to any of you who teach math.)

Now this class was a lot tougher, even for Mr. Krogh.  He would stand in the front of the class and work through the proofs on the chalkboard, and get stuck partway through.  It was my boyfriend who would raise his hand and point out the error(s) and then Mr. Krogh would successfully finish the proof.  I can impugn him this way, because certainly he’s long dead.

But my boyfriend and I did our math together every day after school and I zoomed along splendidly.  I also benefited from partial credit on homework.  I had no idea what calculus meant or why it worked, but I could plug in the numbers and make it work. It was the advanced algebra that was killing me:  the equations where water was pouring into a cone and the rate of flow was changing and we had to find the volume at changing times, or something like that.  I could figure out which equation to use but, despite my best efforts, I was always putting the wrong number in for the wrong variable.  But even on tests, Mr. Krogh’s attitude was, “Oh, you just switched up the variable. No big deal.”  So first semester I got an A, although with significant effort, and help from my sweet boyfriend.

Fine, his name was James.  And James’ dad was a Navy Captain. A decent guy, but a bit blunt.  No nonsense.  James and I would go head-to-head on all kinds of things, and I was as stubborn as he was.  In fact, when he was younger, his parents called him Little Hitler because he was such a tyrant.  Also, as a kid he informed his dad he wanted to be an astronaut.  His dad’s response?  “Well, you’re already an ass, all you need to be is a tronaut!” This is who I was dealing with.

So the Navy Captain went on deployment and was gone for six months.  My first observation was that James treated his mother with terrible disrespect when his dad was not around.  I was pretty shocked, but not enough to actually break up with him.  But then his dad came home from deployment.  After a couple of weeks, he said to James, “You know, James, the only time Sharie comes over now is when she needs help with her math homework.” Uh oh. So James comes to school the next day and says, “So my dad pointed out that the only time you come over is when you need help with your math homework.”  Word for word his dad.

Now, first of all this was pretty unfair, because we did hang out at school and have fun, and go out on the weekends.  But it’s also true that as soon as we finished our homework, I took off. I didn’t stay all afternoon.  But then again, this was our junior year and we did have other homework. And I will admit, I was getting a little bored with the relationship.  One time he mentioned, “when we get married,” and I laughed.  It never occurred to me we’d get married.  That didn’t go over well; he was rather offended.

I didn’t react fast enough to James’ dad’s declaration; I wasn’t quick enough in saying, “Oh, dear Jamie, that’s not it at all. I love you so much!!”  No, I didn’t get that out, and I wasn’t fast.  We broke-up then and there after going out together for a year and two days. But who’s keeping count?

We all continued to sit together in math class, and neither one of us was with someone new.  It was all amiable, and he would absolutely help me with homework in class, but I was struggling.  One time during a test, he was turning in his and I was struggling with most of the equations blank.  He actually whispered, “Sharie, you know how to do that one,” pointing to a problem.  And he was right.  I needed more confidence.

Now at this point I was asking my dad to help me at night.  A tribute to my dad:  he would sit down and read the book and help me with math whenever I asked, and I always thought he enjoyed it.  My mom later told me that he hated it, but loved me.  So thank you Daddy.  I also ended up hiring other guys from school to tutor me and help me with math.  Humbling, but I was getting through. Eventually I got the lowest B-- that Mr. Krogh gave across all his classes, but hey, a Bs not bad.

Of course in the late spring, we all had to choose our classes for the coming year.  I did not sign-up for calculus.  I got home and told my mom, and she asked, “Why not?”  I replied, “You saw how much I struggled this semester!  I can’t possibly do calculus! I don’t have a Math Boyfriend!”  She saw the logic in that and had no rebuttal.  Same with my dad, and he was relieved to no longer have to read the math book and help me.  So no calculus.  No math my senior year. Because no Math Boyfriend.

In retrospect, I absolutely should have taken it.  If I were the mom, first I would have told me to go talk to the calc teacher, tell him how much I struggled and wasn’t understanding in Math Analysis, and ask him if he would be willing to work with me next year. Then I would have made me retake this year’s math class over the summer at a community college.  My parents didn’t do that. I actually kind of fault them for that. 

In the fall, I did well enough of the SAT to get into a good college, but I did not score high enough on the math portion to test out of the quantitative reasoning requirement. When I went to freshman orientation, they gave us another chance to test out, but I hadn’t done math in over a year now and did even worse. I did great on the Spanish test though – I knew virtually none of the vocabulary, but knew conjugation, and could fake it from there. But I also knew enough to retake the lower Spanish class, even without getting credit for it, because really, you do need to know the vocabulary. 

I ended up taking Matrices, of all things, because it counted as both quantitative reasoning and a physical science requirement.  Weird, but okay.  And I struggled through that.  My T.A. was visibly irritated with me the night before the final, as I struggled with every equation.  I have no memory of whether I got and A or B, but I haven’t done much math since then.  I can calculate tips and sale prices in my head, and before online banking I could balance my checkbook, and I can alter recipe servings. But those are my greatest math exploits these days.

My girls know all about the Math Boyfriend concept, but thankfully have never needed it. My husband knows too, and he is a math guy.  I’m not really ashamed of this.  And now I have the bell curve excuse.  I have plenty of other strengths, and my failure to master calculus has not in the least hindered my life.  I am more than glad to recommend Math Boyfriends or English Lit Girlfriends to any who might find that beneficial, as long as it’s based on genuine affection.  And I stand by that B-- that I received. It was hard fought. We all have our battles, and sometimes the greatest success is knowing when to make a strategic withdrawal.