WAYT: The math is wrong

While the state of Illinois languishes in debt up to its eyeballs, the Illinois General Assembly is busy debating whether or not high school students should be required to take more math classes. 

Our Lieutenant Governor has been on a grand tour of all of the state’s community colleges, and the most important thing she learned was that students are not good enough at math.  The next logical step is to get high schoolers to take MORE math.  In the eyes of our humble politicians, practice WILL make perfect. 

What are they thinking?  I mean, really, what is the thought process behind this push, at this particular moment in Illinois history?  Get some perspective!

I object to this four year plan because I am terrible at math.  Just today, I realized that I can’t even record numbers correctly, let alone calculate them.  I wrote a check for $56 but recorded it as $65 in my register.  Genius!  And I took the four years of high school math the GA now recommends – how could I still be this stupid? 

Sixty six percent of my high school math teachers were terrible at teaching math.  I remember I had a tiny Asian geometry teacher who was amazing.  She had songs and illustrations and maybe it makes her sound juvenile, that she was so enthusiastic, but I learned from her.  The old guy who taught me two sections of algebra and the old woman who taught me trigonometry were horrible teachers.  They may have been complete geniuses but they had no clue how to pass that genius on to me.  The words “lost in translation” come to mind. 

When I went to college, I was seriously at a loss when it came to math class.  I tested into the lowest possible section but luckily got a sympathetic teacher who miraculously made my calculator and brain work together for the first time.  He understood that I was never going to be a math whiz and he helped me get through it and on to where I belonged without further damaging my self-esteem or GPA. 

But let me assure you, I did not need four years of math in high school.  What I needed was therapy for my random dyslexia (clearly) and more emphasis on basic math skills before high school.  I still cannot recall a single thing related to fractions and trust me, I’ve really tried to remember.  To do basic multiplication, I use the same rhymes I learned in fourth grade and a hand trick for all the multiples of the number nine. 

I really don’t want the General Assembly legislating that my son will have to take four years of math.  I suffered through that trigonometry class trying to smarten myself up for my ACT test, and I guarantee all that I really accomplished was to take four months off of my expected life span from all the angst and tears.  If Auggie is no good at math, I am going to feel horrible, watching him beat himself up the way that I did.  There was nothing more demoralizing than math.  Truly, I have the most traumatizing memories and I just can’t stomach the idea of him suffering the same fate. 

Future generations would really benefit from APPLIED math, if they have to up the required minimum.  What good does it do a student like me to sit in a high school classroom and be talked to about equations when I could have been learning how to translate measurements in the kitchen or how to quickly figure out that I wrote $65 instead of $56 in my checkbook?  For the smarties who excel at math, PLEASE, put them in four years of math.  Leave me to what I can handle and those other kids can go on to do great things. 

Obviously the General Assembly didn’t take four years of high school math.  They can’t balance a budget to save their lives.  It’s really the pot calling the kettle, especially considering the work they should be doing.  I’m sure they think that talking about math classes has something to do with jobs in Illinois and overall American competitiveness in the global market, but I’m telling you, they’re totally off base on this and they’re wasting our money while they’re at it.  Even a mathematical moron like me can see that! 

I’ve brought up a lot of topics here: government mandates on education practices and requirements, teacher quality, career preparedness, future workforce, etc.  This is why the GA can’t just go spouting off about four years of math.  They need to look at the bigger picture.  Our problems are about more than math.  Stepping into the middle of this issue is ignoring a whole host of other issues that are just as important.  They cannot simply address shortcomings in math; there are many other areas that affect this one subject in school and that affect any given child’s future. 

WAYT: Walk a mile in those shoes

I’m going to give you a scenario.  You are a police officer.  You receive a call in your squad car stating that gunshots were fired, you are needed on the scene.  When you arrive, you see with your two eyes that a young man is lying immobile on the ground and an older man is standing by, waiting for you to take action. 

What do you think the police should do in this situation? 

Should you, the police officer, stand with the shooter by the side of the road, get his account, and then let him walk away?  Or should you ask the man to please come back with you to the station so that you can fully hear his version of events? 

By now I’m sure you know that I’m talking about the shooting death of Trayvon Martin.  The man who shot him, George Zimmerman, as far as I can tell, has not been inside his local police precinct to discuss the night that he shot Trayvon Martin. 

Why wasn’t he at least been brought in for questioning?

It is not okay with me, as a citizen of the United States, to know that someone could walk up to me, shoot me, claim self-defense and then be allowed to walk away.  It is not okay with me for George Zimmerman to fatally shoot Trayvon Martin and have not undergone a rigorous police questioning. 

Maybe I watch too much Law and Order.  And I have different rights and laws surrounding me as a citizen of Illinois than does George Zimmerman as a citizen of Florida.  He was licensed to carry a handgun and he is afforded the right to “stand his ground” under Florida law.  I may disagree with every single part of that last sentence but that is completely beside the point because the law is the law. 

But I beg you, please, set these particulars aside.  Allow yourself one minute to fully picture the scene on that street in that Florida neighborhood that night.  George Zimmerman stands his ground and as a result a young man bleeds to death, killed by George’s actions.  George Zimmerman answers a few questions from police and walks away into the night while Trayvon Martin's body is taken away to the morgue. 

Maybe George Zimmerman did the right thing to intervene that night.  But did he do the right thing to shoot Trayvon?  If he had somehow detained Trayvon, would we have found out that Trayvon got the Skittles and iced tea but then was going to break into someone’s house?  Would we have never heard the name Trayvon Martin, if George Zimmerman had listened to the 911 dispatcher who told him not to follow Trayvon?

Whether Trayvon was a future statistic in the well-worn tales of good boys gone bad, we’ll never know.  I do know that Trayvon’s mother will never have a “normal” life again.  Her baby, her son who was precious to her no matter how he could have turned out, is gone forever.  Everything about Trayvon, her past marriage, her current life – all of it now belongs to us.  She is in the spotlight and we may never forget her.  I pray that we never forget Trayvon. 

But more than anything, I pray that we let the race debate fall to the side here.  Maybe the shooting was racially motivated.  Maybe George Zimmerman profiled Trayvon as up to no good because he had his hood up – as he walked home in the rain.  But maybe George was just calling it how he saw it, because maybe George also watched too much Law and Order.  Maybe George was hyper-concerned about his community and couldn’t allow anyone to look suspicious on the streets where he kept his home – the one place in the world where he felt entitled to safety and security. 

All I want everyone to do is put themselves on that street in Florida, that sad night.  Tell me what you think is right.  What should have happened between George and Trayvon, George and the police, the community and George and Trayvon and the police? 

Looking back on it, it sure seems like it was ALL WRONG to me.  My heart aches over all of this.

WAYT: The Odds are Favorable for BIG Games

There’s a great big world out there, and all it wants to talk about right now is the imminent release of the movie adaptation of The Hunger Games.  (To make things easier on me, I’m typing the title as THG throughout this article.)  The movie is tracking to open among the top five biggest premiers in Hollywood history! 

I devoured THG and the other two books in its series.  I loved those books!  THG is unflinching and shockingly brutal.  The reason I love THG is because it truly left my mouth gaping open – I cannot remember ever having that reaction to a book, and I’ve read a lot of books. 

Maybe there are a few people out there who haven’t read THG yet.  What are you thinking?  Are you waiting to see the movie and then you’ll think about the book?  You’ll never read the book and you’ll only see the movie?  There’s no way a movie will ever get every single thing right that came out of a book – there’s not enough time.  So really, I encourage you to read the books at some point.

I don’t want to write a review of THG and I can’t see the movie right when it premieres so I won’t be able to give you a timely review of the movie.  But I can tell you why you should either read the book or see the movie or both. 

Don’t worry that it’s marketed as young adult literature or as a young adult movie.  I’m an adult and I don’t think that book is for young adults.  The violence within its pages is not suited for littles unless they’re maybe 16.  I can’t set an age because every kid is different but 16 seems safe to me. 

If you worry about our culture – obsessed with reality TV and celebrity and really interested in politics – then you should read this book.  It’s sort of a representation of right now, and sort of a cautionary tale about where our society could be headed.  Children aged 12 to 18 are drafted into a reality TV death match by random lottery (oh, the bad luck).  The nation watches, transfixed, as these babies murder one another simply so that the winner’s district, a futuristic reimagining of the geographic United States, can be a little happier and little less hungry for one year.  And so that the power-hungry Capitol can remind the citizens who’s in charge and how much it would hurt The People to fight against The Man. 

If you’re not really into romance, this is a great book for you.  The main character Katniss and a couple of her friends seem like they should fall into a romance, but there’s no time for that.  They’re too busy trying to survive!  If it’s not starvation in life outside this battle to the death, it’s a battle to the death threatening to end their lives.  The book flirts with the idea of flirting between them, but what I got from Katniss was not one iota of interest in anything sentimental – unless you consider her love for her sister, which is truly boundless and the only reason that Katniss has any warmth in her heart at all. 

If you love an underdog story, you’ll sort of get what you like.  Katniss’ district has never fared very well in the Games but she’s a rugged tomboy type.  She shouldn’t stand a chance if you considered her stats like she was a trading card.  But you can’t judge her by what the Capitol knows about her.  She’s one of the rare few in the society with secrets.  The Capitol didn’t anticipate what Katniss brought to the table. 

So to summarize, THG is a grown-up story about kids forced to know more than kids ever should about life and death, with a potential heroine who is tough and marginally sweet.  Is that what you’re getting out of the movie previews?  If you read the book, is that what you saw? 

One final plug: Guys love this book.  I had the distinct honor of participating in interview sessions with potential scholarship recipients at my alma mater.  Three out of the four boys I met talked about THG in their interview.  Granted, I asked them about books so we got there one way or another.  But those boys GOT it.  They saw the themes and made observations that I didn’t see.  I was blown away.  Also, my husband read this book!  Frank does not read fiction.  He prefers non-fiction, biography type books.  So this was a real stretch for him.  But he devoured THG just like me.  It was a great moment in history, and so awesome to see him get a taste of my obsessions with great stories.  If men of all ages are reading THG, it’s so worth it!  For me and Frank, it’s become a shared interest with a lot of angles to discuss. 

Anything that gets everyone talking like this is worth jumping on the bandwagon.  I promise that you can trust me on this one.

"Like" This!

I just read this article.  What are these people thinking??  What is the world coming to?? 

This article, as circulated by the Associated Press, absolutely horrifies me.  It says that some employers, while interviewing prospective employees, turn to the person they are interviewing and ask them either to give over their Facebook password or log in to the site at that moment so that the interviewer can view the interviewee’s Facebook activities. 

I don’t know about you, but I feel that Facebook is private.  I understand if your employer doesn’t want you complaining about how much you hate your job or how incompetent your boss is, but that’s your right as provided by the United States Constitution.  If your employer wants you not to name them by name in any way on your page or in your posts, they can ask you to do that, and I don’t object to that.  A simple “my job sucks” will update your friends about how your life is going without implicating the culprits regardless of any non-disclosure agreements. 

But for an employer to expect to receive your password or to have access to your private messages to your friends and family is a violation of your rights!  I love that the gentleman who is the focus of this article said NO.  He should say no, and lawyers and constitutional rights activists everywhere should fight for the answer to be no nationwide. 

Is there nothing that is sacred anymore?

I use Facebook to post my status, follow causes, track celebrities and to keep up with my friends.  Granted, I hardly ever see any of my Facebook friends in real life, but I still feel that they are my friends.  I talk about Facebook happenings around the dinner table.  Facebook helps me share pictures and videos of Auggie.  Bragging about my kid is one of my main interests and Facebook helps me do that 24-7-365.  None of this is earth-shattering.  None of this should affect my potential employability. 

I think what bothers me the most here is someone asking for your password.  If you want to give away the keys to the kingdom, give out your Facebook password.  I would estimate that 95% of all Facebook users have the same password for their email and Facebook accounts, and probably their online banking and credit card statements, etc., etc.  (Why don’t you just make your password “hellohackers” and call it a day?)  Anyway, the point is, giving someone your password is something you should never do.  I’ll be honest, I may be married to the guy, but I don’t know any of Frank’s passwords.  I’ll be damned if his boss gets to know it and I don’t!

There are plenty of people out there who conduct themselves in ways that are wholly inappropriate and that carries over into their life on Facebook.  There are also just as many people out there who are boring – I’m one of them.  I’m not doing anything on Facebook that would shock or scandalize anyone.  But that doesn’t mean that I want anyone logging into my Facebook account.  And you shouldn’t either. 

You should read that article up there and speak up about it.  This practice is wrong and these employers need to be taken to task!  What better way to call them out than to raise a big fuss about it on Facebook?  Since they don’t have our passwords, they’ll never see the tide coming back in on them!

Mulligan

Today, I’m forgoing the regular theme to honor my husband. 

St. Patrick’s Day is a really special day.  Not for any obvious reason though – not because of green-colored alcoholic beverages or themed parades or anything related to Ireland.  For me, it’s super special because it’s my wedding anniversary. 

On Saturday, March 17, 2007, I married Frank Arnolts III.  Saying “I do” to him on that day was the best decision I ever made. 

From the very first time I laid eyes on Frank from across our college cafeteria, I knew he was perfect.  I told my friend as much.  I made a reference to the men of Greek mythology.  Then I got to know him.  I had never before in my life known someone who was so extraordinary, inside and out.  I still haven’t met anyone better, body and soul, than my husband.  Not even close. 

This Saturday marks our five year wedding anniversary.  We’ve done a lot in five years.  We bought our first home, several cars, lost a baby, had a baby, lost a job (for a little while) and we’ve taken a few vacations.  The best part of all of that was that we were able to do it together.  And we survived. 

That’s not to say every moment of those five years has been perfect.  We don’t always get along.  I’m not always the most likable person.  We’re pretty famous for our back-and-forth (good-natured!) bickering. 

But I always know, in my heart of hearts, that Frank is the one and only choice for me.  I dated plenty of people before I met Frank.  None of them compare.  Any boy who refused to make it “official,” dumped me by email or AOL IM or tried to get away with bad behavior behind my back wasn’t worth my everlasting love.  Frank has proven again and again that he is worthy, if for no other reason than because he’s exceedingly patient with me. 

The returns I gained in this partnership are manifest in our son Auggie.  He is adorable and perfect and special.  He is the best of both of us, truly.  There’s nothing more that I can do to show my gratitude to Frank for the gift of our son than to try my hardest to raise him right, to do well, give my best. 

And I take our marriage seriously.  I want the two of us to walk away together from any situation and be able to say that we make a great team.  It’s very important to me that Frank and I are on the same page in all things. 

I hope that when it’s all said and done, these five years are just small fraction of the time we accumulate as a couple.  I hope that our son always admires us; I hope that we provide him with a shining example to live by.  I hope that we can look back and be happy about everything that has passed, have no regrets. 

I hope that Frank knows that I love him more than I ever knew that I could love another person.  And if he ever doubted it, at least there will always be this – these eternal words saved on the internet, and hopefully, branded into his heart and memory. 

I love you, Frank!  Thank you for choosing me.