Mathematics: A Love-Hate Story
From a very young age, I had a love for science. I loved dinosaurs and space in particular but had a general curiosity about how the world works. I even had a fascination with computers and taught myself to program from the first day my middle school installed two Radio Shack TRS-80s.
But math was another story. I had little interest in the subject, although I understood that it is essential in science. During my freshman year of high school, I took algebra, and my screaming and yelling and hurling of my textbook across my room became the stuff of family lore.
I muddled my way through high school math and did not take another math course until after I graduated from college. My aspirations for becoming a computational neuroscientist required that I get comfortable with math. I signed up for calculus with a certain amount of dread. To my surprise, I loved it and aced both semesters.
I was older and (somewhat) more mature, and I had goals in mind that made it relevant. I also did not expect that it would be easy. Importantly, though, calculus was the first math course I took where the why of things was explained. In his book, Burn Math Class: And Reinvent Mathematics for Yourself, Jason Wilkes argued that it would make more sense to learn calculus first, and while that might not work well for younger children, having gone through the revelation I did in calculus class, I could see his point.
Despite this promising shift, confidence in my math ability remained weak, and I was not always so willing to put in the effort and research how to learn better. I did well in my doctoral program, but slow progress with mathematical fluency and a limited ambition to do better hampered my progress. After two years, I dropped out and moved to Silicon Valley.
Over the years, I maintained a healthy interest in science, especially theoretical physics, evolution, and complexity science. I devoured popular science books. But it became increasingly clear that my understanding had reached a plateau, and without some serious mathematical chops, I could not achieve the level of understanding I seemed to want.
In fits and starts, I tried to study math. I found a few books that offered advice on how to become better at learning and doing math. I rarely got very far before giving up. When things started to get more involved and challenging, and understanding was not nearly immediate, I would jump to a different resource or resign myself to popular books and articles.
About four years ago, I pledged to myself to get back into running shape, qualify for, and run the Boston Marathon. The heart of the pledge was that quitting was not an option. No matter how hard, no matter how many injuries, I had to find a way to keep going. To this day, I have kept that promise.
Recently, I decided that I would make the same pledge concerning mathematics. Forty years after I first threw my algebra textbook across my room, I will finish unfinished business. There’s no quitting: nothing but steady, earnest effort. One payoff will be to open doors to the deeper understanding I crave. The other payoff will be to have finally pushed past my fear and reticence. It’s never too late.