Month: November 2024

It always saddens me whenever people say that they are not good and math and never will be. I have learned that most of the time individuals feel that way because of a bad experience in school. I know that I had many of those moments, especially in the eighth grade when nothing related to math seemed to make sense. I remember feeling so much frustration that I actually cried and insisted that it was impossible to master anything that was so confusing. 

My mother did her best to help me, but I was in such a state of agitation that I ended up yelling at her for her good deeds. I had created a mental block that was immovable and made me feel quite stupid. After pitching several immature fits I felt determined to figure out a way to be fleetingly successful in math. Mostly I worked multiple kinds of problems and memorized how to tackle each type. While my method worked to keep my grades high, I was still feeling dazed and confused about why and how the processes led me to correct answers. Somehow in spite of my difficulties I literally faked my way through course after course through sheer determination and an uncanny ability to memorize. 

It was not until I was in college that things began to make sense. I studied under a professor who had a tremendous talent for demonstrating the reasons why different formulae and processes worked. Suddenly it all made so much sense and I fell in love with idea of spreading the gospel of mathematics for a living. Over time, lots of practice and attending multiple workshops to hone my teaching skills I became quite adept in the art of making math come alive even for those struggling mightily. 

I’ll never forget the moment when I took the GRE exam and made an almost perfect score on the math section of the test. It was a feat that had seemed impossible when I was in high school and my SAT scores were incredibly lopsided. I then had a great number for all things related to language and only an average mark for math. The GRE numbers were one of the proud achievements of my lifetime and they resulted from top of the line instruction from incredible teachers as well as daily practice conveying mathematical skills to students. Somehow what had once confounded me had all fallen in place and made so much sense. 

I now know that there has to be a connection between the visual and the abstract aspects of math. There is beautiful meaning in those numbers that explain so much about the world in which we live. Without an understanding of how the processes actually apply to reality all of those calculations are meaningless and therefore difficult to maneuver. It was good teaching that opened my eyes and in turn showed me how to convey my knowledge to my students. 

I did reach a point at which I did not continue my journey with mathematics. I have grandchildren whose engineering degrees took them much farther than I ever went. Nonetheless I now feel confident in an ability to visualize and truly understand the subjects of high school mathematics. I have the capacity to explain how and why things work and what it takes to solve a problem. I am admittedly slow and steady in my work but I also know that it is not speed in reaching a level of understanding that determines our abilities.

Sometimes I am actually frustrated and saddened when I hear of people who gave up on themselves when it came to learning math. They avoided courses and jobs that might have required them to work with numbers. From my on experience I know that nobody is hopeless and I get so much joy whenever I am able to turn on the lights of comprehension. I know how much joy there is in finally becoming competent at a skill that once alluded me. 

I’ll never be an Einstein or even as mathematically advanced as my brother who was literally a rocket scientist. There are people so much better than I am but I have learned that there are enormous resources for learning more in the world today. There are numbers of how to lessons for unravelling almost any concept. You and I have the tools to continue our educations with a computer and a search engine that leads us to brilliant educators just waiting for us to take the time to watch their presentations. Fantastically most of their lessons are absolutely free. All you have to do is find the teacher and the teaching style that works best for your learning needs. 

I wish that we did not imply to our young that everyone should be able to master mathematics at some pre-described time. The truth is that each of us learns at a different pace. It is also true that just because it may take some of us a bit longer to find success does not mean that we are any less intelligent than those who catch on right away. For that reason I’d like to challenge everyone to rethink the way he or she thinks about math. I suspect that with a bit of guidance I would be able to open your eyes to just how wonderful it is and guide you to a point of confidence and even enjoyment. 

Don’t be hard on yourself. If you feel lacking in mathematical skills it is no doubt not totally your fault. The world abounds with fantastic educators who should be able to change your mind about how you feel about mathematics and yourself. Everyone really can learn as long as you remember that it is not a race but a steady process of learning that leads to understand bit by bit. 

I don’t make a good first impression. In fact I tend not to even be noticed in the beginning. I am quiet and unassuming, ordinary looking, someone who blends in with a crowd. I don’t do well in job interviews but after someone risks hiring me I rise to the top. It’s always been that way with me. The charisma gene will not be found in my DNA but I have an overabundance of determination that has helped me to succeed throughout my lifetime. 

I get lost in a crowd. It’s unlikely that anyone would notice me. I laughed recently when my father-in-law wanted to know who the tall beautiful blonde woman was at my brother’s birthday party. I did not know her name but even I could not help but take note of her. Everyone else was mostly like me, just one more face that seemed to be unimportant. The truth is that I like being this way. I don’t enjoy drawing attention to myself. I prefer being the observer rather than the center but there are times when it would be nice just to be a bit more memorable. 

When I entered high school the principal cautioned me and my mother as to my placement in the advanced classes. It was his belief that they would be too much for me and that ultimately he would have to adjust the program of study to match my abilities. He mentioned that my former teachers had been instrumental in having me placed with the Honors students. They spoke of my work ethic and my willingness to tackle difficult situations. They told him not to be fooled by outward appearances. Four years later I was still taking the advanced classes and I graduated at the top of my class.

Admittedly I probably worked harder than most of my classmates, but what is wrong with that? I readily take on challenges and often achieve things that seem to be beyond my natural abilities. I am incredibly shy but I have learned how to take a deep breath and dive into public speaking, debating, advocating for others. I may feel like jelly inside but somehow I find ways to hide my fears when the occasion requires me to reach deeply into my psyche and overcome all of the assumptions that I must surely be a little mouse. 

I have never done particularly well in job interviews because of my low key personality. Unlike the blonde at my brother’s party I just don’t stand out. I often end up accepting jobs that are not particularly attractive to other applicants. I know that I need only get my foot in the door to weave my magic which generally consists of working longer and harder than anybody else. I am that person who is willing to come early, stay late, put in extra hours on the weekend, take work home. My efforts always get noticed and suddenly I become the golden girl, because I am earnestly committed to whatever I am supposed to be doing. 

We all know of someone who seems to have an exceptional glow. When such individuals also work hard they rise to epic status. Almost as soon as former President Barack Obama stepped into the political realm there was something almost otherworldly about him. He was exciting, someone who seemed destined for greatness. He had also worked hard to get to that place and so he assumed the power of one of the most important people in the world. Franklin and Teddy Roosevelt had much the same ability to be instantly noticed and revered. 

There have been other people who came to power quietly and became giants because of their character and strong wills. Abraham Lincoln was such a man. People would hardly have seen him as a future leader with his homely looks and his homespun background, but he had a way with words and a determination to work for the good of our country. A lesser soul might have bowed to the Confederacy and accepted the split in the country as an inevitability. Instead he fought against such a rift with a vigor that seemed to come from nowhere.

Most of us feel as though we are just cogs in a grand machine. Like ants we toil to build mounds and to survive. We are unknown faces, just one of millions. They key to being noticed and appreciated almost always boils down to how much effort we put into the things that we do. If we see ourselves as part of something important and we work to give our very best to the project or the team, we will surely find success and notice. We are ultimately judged by our devotion to a common cause. People value us when we first show how much we value them. We don’t have to be the life of a party to gain the affection of every participant. They will know and love someone who modestly checks on their welfare. The quiet unassuming person can make a difference one person, one task at a time.

I used to hire teachers. There were times when I saw a show pony and grabbed that person immediately. Other times I saw something more in an individual who more closely resembled a work horse. I knew that in the tough times they would join us in ploughing on through difficult times. I understood that we need both kinds of people and each has a purpose that makes him or her wonderful.

They say it takes all kinds. Perhaps that saying would be better if we realized we need all kinds. It is in its variety that the world is beautiful. We each have a twinkle. Some show it on the outside and others know they have it on the inside but just need an opportunity to let is shine through. We might want to get to know people better before we classify them one way or another. I’ve learned to watch for the hidden treasures in our midst. 

Sometimes we meet people and only see them a few number of times here and there. Sometimes those people touch our hearts in ways that last forever. Such a person for me was Jeannie Kendrigan. 

My father-in-law had one family member from his birthplace ine Puerto Rico living in Houston, his cousin Dr.Efrain Garcia. Efrain became like a brother to my father-in-law and the men’s wives became the best of friends. Thus my husband Mike and I often received invitations to events at the Garcia house. It was always a beautiful family time with unrivaled hospitality. Dr. Garcia’s sister-in-law, Jeannie Kendrigan, was a frequent guest who joined the celebrations spreading her joyous friendliness to anyone who was present. 

Jeannie was only about four years older than I am so we almost immediately connected with each other. She was still attending college when I first met her. She was a student at Dominican College where she studied to be a teacher. In fact, she and my mother took some classes together. Somehow the coincidence along with her outgoing personality drew me to her immediately. 

Jeannie had grown up in the Chicago area along with her twin brother and two older sisters. Given our slight age difference we might have been sisters. We seemed to have so much in common even though I had spent all my days in Texas. Jeannie and most of her family had moved to Houston at the invitation of her sister. To my great joy we were often included in gatherings because I so enjoyed being with the entire family, and most especially, Jeannie.

Jeannie was a “tell it like it is” person. I loved her frankness, but she was also incredibly kind and thoughtful. I always knew where I or my beliefs stood with Jeannie. She was never rude but she did not lie either. I have always been diplomatic but in awe of people willing to be one hundred percent honest about their beliefs. Jeannie somehow knew how to be up front and polite at the same time. I was in awe of her skill.

Jeannie eventually graduated and became an elementary teacher for the Houston Independent School District. During her long career she held posts on several campuses and no matter where she was working she enjoyed talking about how much she loved her job and her students. Her eyes would light up and a smile would stretch across her face as she spoke of the joys of teaching them how to read. She was definitely someone who loved her career.

Jeannie never married but she was a super aunt for her many nieces and nephews. She spent the whole year looking for the perfect gifts for the people in her life. Sometimes she even made special items with lots of her love tucked inside. She was devoted to family and kept busy with them and with her students. She exuded joy and contentment.

After Jeannie’s father died she became her mother’s caretaker. The two of them lived together for a time. When her mother became too incapacitated to remain at home, Jeannie helped her move to a nursing home and then visited with her every single day, often checking in with her mom before going to work. She was more generous and good hearted than almost anyone I have ever known.

Eventually I saw less and less of Jeannie. Sadly we mostly renewed our friendship at funerals. Still I found myself drawing a bee line to her whenever I had the opportunity She was frank, funny and rather wise. I felt so comfortable with her, as though we somehow had an unspoken connection. Maybe it was because she had a classic Midwestern friendliness or maybe it was because we were both teachers. Whatever it may have been i found myself numbering Jeannie as being one of my favorite people.

The last time I saw Jeannie was at the funeral of my father-in-law’s cousin. She was wheelchair bound by then and accompanied by an aide from her nursing home. She still had her welcoming smile and unchecked wit. More than ever she was saying whatever came to her mind. I loved being with her. She inspired me to be more bold.

Jeannie Kendrigan had a fall that sent her to the hospital earlier this month. She was optimistic about her recovery but not even her energetic spirit was able to insure that she would get well. She died still sending optimistic and loving texts to her loved ones. Last week we gathered for her funeral. I missed her wit and her honesty about life. It was difficult to know that I would not see her again. I surely hope that she knew that I thought she was wonderful, one of a kind, a person that I truly loved and admired. Perhaps we’ll meet up again in heaven one day. I’d like to think that it is so. Until then I have such wonderful memories of her and all of them make me smile.

Sometimes I read a book or watch a movie or documentary that burrows into my heart and stays on my mind days and even weeks after I first learned about it. The nineteen nineteen movie Mr. Jones left me pondering about the cruelty that we humans sometimes inflict on each other. The film tells the true story of Gareth Jones, a Welsh journalist in the nineteen thirties who had gained a small moment of notoriety for landing an interview with Adolf Hitler long at the beginning of his rise to power in Germany. After the success of his story Jones became obsessed with the idea of also interviewing Joseph Stalin which prompted him to travel to Russia to see if he can strike journalistic gold again. 

Once in Moscow Jones learns that a friend and colleague has been murdered. After doing some research of his own he finds out that his associate was following leads that would have put the lie to the accepted belief that the Soviet nation was economically sound. Jones decides to set aside his dream of talking to Stalin and to instead visit Ukraine where the truth of Soviet economic status seems likely to found. He embarks on a journey that will uncover evidence of the Ukrainian Holodomor of nineteen thirty two to nineteen thirty three. He sees firsthand proof that theSoviet policies of nationalizing the farming of grain in Ukraine led to a famine that left millions dead or starving.

The imagery of the film left me in tears, particularly one scene which portrayed a young child crying for his mother who had died while holding him. I began to think of the many times that I have read of famine here or there around that world and not really considered what that means. I found myself grieving for the many times in history that people have died from human negligence or lust for power. I thought of current situations around the world that are leaving innocents vying for food even as we Americans waste and throw away enough to feed everyone. I suddenly realized how much I take for granted. I began to consider what I might do to help. I cried for those who died back then and thought of the photos I have seen of Palestinians in Gaza holding bowls in hopes of having them filled today. I wondered why we humans seem inclined to all too often look away when we see such situations happening in far away places or even near our homes. What makes us want to cover our eyes and stuff our ears?

History is repeating the story of Gareth Jones even today. He spent time in a Russian prison for his investigation. He was branded a spy and a liar by Russia. Eventually he was freed and returned to Great Britain where he told his truths while being branded a man who had lost his mind. He would be spurned by society and relegated to ridicule until he convinced William Randolph Hearst to run his story. It would be decades before there was enough proof to demonstrate that Mr. Jones had always been right. 

I suppose it is natural to want to believe the best of people and nations. Most people did not want to think that Hitler was really going to carry out the promises of Mein Kampf. The starving of millions in Ukraine was too horrible to believe. Even when we see photos of the concentration camps or the bombed out buildings in war zones after the fact we find it difficult to believe that we humans can be so cold hearted with each other. Surely the cries and whispers of pain must be hyperbole or lies. How could such thing happen? Why is there so much disbelief when history has shown us again and again how cruel humans have the capacity to be? It is far easier to get over the enormity of evil needed to enslave other human beings by explaining it away with beliefs that the people just did not know better. Surely, though, a voice must whisper to us that they did know better but just did not care.

There is a wave of ignorance demanding that we wear kid gloves and happy faces when teaching our young about history. Such an egregious process of hiding the truth only makes horrors all the more easy to produce. When evil is cloaked in ignorance it does our young far more harm than when we are truthful and teach them how to be careful of false promises that wrongly abuse others. Ignoring or hiding truth inevitably hurts the innocent. Pretending that all is well when it is not continues the most horrific stories of humankind. The heart of darkness beats ever stronger when we pretend that all is fine in the face of evil. 

I am feeling plaintive and sorrowful today as I think of how almost a hundred years have passed since the Ukrainian people were so brutally starved and forced into labor for the benefit of Russia. I think of how little we have learned since Hitler came to power and how we are still trying to just smile and bury the truths so that we might fool ourselves that none of it matters because it does not have a direct effect on our lives. 

Sadly that is exactly the wrong way to be. Mr. Jones was right. The truths must be told no matter how difficult they are to face. It is up to us to prepare our children to be just by being always honest. Young people can handle the truth but they are destroyed when they learn that we have been lying. Sometimes we don’t want to hear something but we must. It is in knowing what is real that we can learn how to change for the better. 

If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair. — Shirley Chisholm

Shirley Chisholm was the first African American woman elected to Congress and the first African American to run for President of the United States. While she did not get too far in her quest she did manage to inspire a generation of young women, including me. Somehow her courage taught me to be more fearless than I had once been. I began to speak up whenever I witnessed injustice. I used my ability with words and suddenly found courage to speak up for people too vulnerable to advocate for themselves. Eventually my boldness led to being a Peer Facilitator for teachers and then the Dean of Faculty for a group of extraordinary educators. 

I often found myself in a position of having to take a deep breath to dismiss my fears as I fought for what I believed was best for both the students and the teachers. I fully understood the difficulties they encountered and knew that there were times when their voices and needs were being ignored. I had evolved from a girl afraid of her own shadow to a woman who was unwilling to stay silent when problems needed to be addressed. I sometimes rubbed the powers that be the wrong way, but I kept my honor and dignity intact. 

I have to be bluntly open about my profound disappointment that the American electorate once again took a pass on the opportunity to finally put a woman in the office of President of the United States. The voters seem more inclined to risk going with a deranged and felonious man rather than a highly educated, intelligent and experienced woman. For the rest of of my days I will not understand the reasoning of the millions of people who thought it better for the country to trust a man known for lies, egregious insults and the bungling of a worldwide pandemic. 

I wonder if the people even took the time to listen to each candidate and to compare and contrast what they had to say. Donald Trump peddled hate and fear. He called the United States of America a garbage dump. He spoke so grotesquely about Kamala Harris that in another time that alone would have been enough reason not to vote for him. He implied that she slept her way to the top and only rose in the ranks because of DEI rules. He even questioned her race. The words he used about her are not fit for printing so I will refrain from writing them down.

So who is Kamala Harris really? She is the child of a Black father and a mother from India. She graduated from Howard University and eventually earned a law degree. She worked as a District Attorney and then as the Attorney for the state of California. She spent time as a Congresswoman in the House of Representatives and became the Vice President of the United States during the Presidency of Joe Biden. 

Kamal Harris was never an immigration czar as Trump liked to call her, but she did research the problems at the border resulting in an eventual reduction in the number of illegal immigrants entering the United States. In fact when statistics are compared it is evident that just as many illegals entered during Trump’s tenure as President as they did during the past four years. With Harris’ efforts the numbers were going down. Trump has greatly exaggerated the problems and failed to mention that when a bipartisan immigration bill was proposed he asked Republicans to cause it to fail so that he would have an issue to use in his run for the presidency. Imagine losing an opportunity to actually fix the problems just to make him look better. 

Most people seemed confused that Kamala Harris did not have the power of the presidency because she was not the President. She had nothing to do with the difficulties in the pull out from Afghanistan.In fact that fiasco was signed into a treaty that Trump brokered and as soon as he was elected the Taliban congratulated him and thanked him for the treaty that resulted in a disastrous situation. Nor was she or even Biden the cause of the price of eggs or oil. Avian flu killed countless chickens and oil is priced internationally, not by the President. Surely Trump knows how things work but he forgot to mention the restrictions on the power of a Vice President. Perhaps he was till angry that his own Vice President who refused to defy the Constitution by accepting a made up slate of electoral votes in the certification of the 2020 election. Maybe he did not want JD Vance to realize that under Trump he will be forced to be a loyal puppet.

Kamala Harris ran a campaign of joy and optimism. When voters were blindly shown her platform without naming her as the author they universally chose it over the concept of a plan from Trump. She warned us about the problems of tariffs and how they will actually add to the costs of many of the products that Americans use. Over thirty Nobel prize winning economists agreed with her. Instead Harris advocated for raising the taxes of the wealthiest one percent and lowering those of the middle class.

She had plans for bolstering Social Security and Medicare and providing families financial assistance for to care of our oldest citizens in their homes. She had plans for helping our young working people purchase a first time home, something that seems father and farther out of reach for them right now. 

Kamala Harris promised to do her best to unify the country after years of infighting between the two political parties. She wanted to name Republicans for her cabinet and heal the wounds that Trump has inflicted on our nation for over eight years. There was nothing outlandish or mean about her. She is a brilliant and compassionate woman who proved her mettle in a debate which she won against an addled Trump who went off in unintelligible and hateful rants about Haitians eating the dogs and eating the cats .

I am saddened that the Americans took a pass on this remarkable woman, often for the silliest reasons most of which are not even true. As I watch Trump selecting inexperienced and questionable people for his cabinet only because of their sworn loyalty I am dumbfounded. I wonder if he even knows that they are supposed to be swearing their allegiance to the Constitution which he seems more than willing to rip apart. He is an unserious man who somehow managed to defeat a very serious woman. For now I weep for my nation and hope that somewhere an American woman will pull up a folding chair and finally find a way to the official table.