Why Lear Mathematical Thinking
Why Lear Mathematical Thinking
T
o say that equations are the heart and soul of math is like saying
that a baker is someone with a lot of recipes. But a library full of
cookbooks does not make a good chef. It’s only once someone has
proven they can implement such recipes they are viewed as successful.
From there, the more recipes they learn, the more of an authority they will
be seen to be. Yet, no matter how many basic foods they make, they will
only be considered a real expert once they’ve mastered the hardest dishes.
Accomplishing these top-tier challenges shows they not only know how to
repeat and memorize but that they understand the elements in a way that
can be applied to other recipes and contexts.
Once you’ve mastered a baked Alaska, you can make almost any dessert.
Because you haven’t just learned how to make a frivolous, over-the-top
creation of cake and ice cream. In the process, you’ve learned the
foundations of meringue making, cake baking, the finesse of frosting, and
the precision of a blowtorch. Maybe, if you went all out, you’ve even
learned how to churn a mean Neapolitan ice cream from scratch.
The recipe is just a formula, which can be written down, looked up, and
followed when the rare occasion strikes that one needs a fanciful sweet. It’s
a resource. Whereas the real value comes from the lessons learned by
getting your hands dirty, cracking the eggs, and beating the batter. That
hands-on practice is what makes you a better and more intuitive baker.
After all, a recipe is only good for knowing how to make baked Alaska one
particular way. If you wanted to spice it up or make something else, this
step-by-step method won’t be very helpful. It’s the techniques you pick up
along the way that will be transferable to other projects.
While we were too busy moaning about the difficulty of math in high
school, we didn’t realize that, beneath the numerals and symbols, these tests
and tasks were teaching us how to interpret situations to apply the correct
procedures and strategies, even if the issue was new to us. We were learning
how to prove our answers and verify our accuracy. And we were learning
how to be more analytical and methodical. In other words, we were learning
how to problem-solve.
Despite what students may think, math was not created as a form of torture.
People simply came up with equations to figure out real-world issues. It
was about knowing how to get from point A to point B on a map and
understanding how far apart the two were, about counting the coins in your
pocket and knowing whether you had enough for the loaf of bread you were
eyeing, and about noting how many hours had passed since you woke up
that morning.
It wasn’t until around 500 BCE that math became the new thing. 1 Rather
than creating rules based on the routines and needs of life as the
Babylonians and Egyptians had, the Greeks used math to prove things they
couldn’t otherwise conceptualize, such as the powers of gravity. Suddenly,
people were using concepts, previously employed for trade and taxation, to
solve complex issues, like figuring out the height of pyramids, deciphering
the area of circles, and even making sense of the stars. Equations became a
way for great thinkers to explore ideas and theories they had about the
world and test whether they were true. And that’s what math continues to be
today.
Many may assume that we have the Greeks, and their schools of
mathematics, to blame for making a big fuss out of math. But the truth is
that it never went out of style. It has become even more popular.
The math we learn and teach today is largely based on concepts from only
the last few hundred years. The subject has evolved from the measly
concepts of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division to what is
now estimated to be between 60-70 categories, 50-60 of which have only
emerged within the last 100 years. 2
People across the globe continue to get excited and devote their lives to
researching the subject. More people today are interested in math than in its
historical heyday. Some study concepts we’re familiar with, such as algebra
and geometry, but many work with ideas beyond the everyday
mathematician’s wildest dreams (or nightmares).
In the 1980s, this sudden and large-scale change in how mathematics was
viewed inspired the creation of a new definition. The subject became
known as the “science of patterns” to better encapsulate its more abstract
uses. 3 No longer was math utilitarian and functional, it was also interpretive
and ideological. It wasn’t just about plugging in values to get an answer, it
was about deeper understanding. It could be used to study the real or the
unreal, the world as it was or as we imagined and perceived it.
Unfortunately, this new-age way of math was not communicated into the
classroom. Or, more accurately, the ways for transforming the old
methodologies and changing our perspective about what math could be
were not clarified. Which is a shame. Because the wonderment and magic
of math are in its ability to turn abstract and even intangible ideas into
something that can be nailed down, calculated, analyzed, and studied.
You may be thinking: “Isn’t knowing how to calculate fractions and add
numbers together more useful for my life?”
The educational system would agree with you. With so much emphasis on
practicality in school, there is no opportunity for abstract thinking. This has
led to the idea that this way of perceiving math is more difficult. It can be,
in the same way that painting a picture is harder than adding together
denominations. The rules for how to do it aren’t as clearly defined, which is
frightening. But it is also invigorating. The ability to quantify abstracts is
what makes math so amazing...and useful in everyday life.