Hi. It's been a while. Long story short, over the summer (two summers ago) I was out of work and I got bored and started a blog. In August I got a job, yet promised my friends and family that I would continue writing said blog (this one). A friend and regular drinking buddy (yes, one can be a drinking buddy but not a friend and vice versa) has ended nearly every encounter we have had with, "Can't wait to read the next blog post!" I had begun to respond with I was thinking of making it quarterly, giving myself credit for the two previous posts as I was approaching 6 months since my first post. Then the wife got a new job on the other side of the country. I had to look for a job again while working 2 others. I was over due on the third quarter. Rather than make it a triannual publication (thus making this the most unfollowable blog in history) I hid and hoped everyone forgot about me. Alas, I have decided to make a resolution. As I am in a strange place with few friends and only rarely communicating with others due to wife-imposed isolation, I will post at least 12 times this year. That's right, we're going monthly (duodecannual? Why not?). Onwards...
It may or may not surprise you that one of the most entertaining (or infuriating, depending on the situation) things about being married to a mathematician is their insanely vast ineptness at basic arithmetic. Nowhere is this more evident than at a restaurant. I cannot quantify the number of times I have been at a restaurant with anywhere from one to twenty mathematicians and the check came. There is always an unmistakeable look of confidence on their faces. They say to themselves, "I am a mathematician. I can divide this check!" I will not go as far as to say they always fail. They don't. But they often do. Out come the pens. There are requests for extra receipt copies for more writing space. Calculator apps become involved (ne'er a calculator watch. A man can dream...one day). There are in depth discussions involving the quantities of consumption of shared dishes and pitchers. Whereas most people slightly overestimate their contribution and call the extra part of the tip and graciously accept a portion of the excess if necessary, a table of mathematicians require exact figures. I have seen requests for extra coinage so that one may not feel slighted that they did not receive the correct change. I have 2 examples to show, as I see it, the two types of check division that I have witnessed on multiple occasions:
Example 1: I went dinner with a dozen people, nine mathematicians and 3 significant others including myself. This was a pizza restaurant with waiters and taps. We ordered 4 pizzas of equal size and of nearly equal value, the meat and more complex pizzas being slightly more expensive. 4 pitchers of beer were ordered, one type of pitcher costing a dollar more than another. Each diner ate more than one slice of pizza and most had more than one type although some stuck to one type due to dietary restrictions. Check time!
Attempt #1: All asked by some to recount the number and types of slices eaten. (Fill up back of check with scribbling). Individual slice cost tabulated for each pizza on second copy of check. Math done. Both copies of checks passed around to check for errors, of which, there are many. Attempt scrapped.
Attempt #2: Divide total evenly. Math done in 2 tries. Argument ensues over the fairness of some having to pay slightly less because of their consumption of pricier pizzas. Attempt aborted.
Attempt #3: Divide pizzas and diners into two classes, expensive eaters and non-expensive eaters. Math done. First try! Wife, bless her, says, "but Mary and I only had 1 beer!" Attempt 3 modified. Wife, oh sweet lord, says, "Wait, but Jeremy's wife didn't drink anything." Jeremy's wife had hidden, wisely, this fact. She had a coke. Coke not on the bill. Waiter questioned. Attempt #3 fails.
Attempt #4: Check removed from mathematicians by significant others. Mathematicians made to hand over requested sum and shut up about it. 30 minutes have passed and people are waiting for the table. Waiter visibly frustrated. 25% tip given.
Example 2: I worked for tips at one point so if I don't give you 20% I'm fairly pissed at how you treated me. I, for the second time in my life, decided that we should tip a waiter 10%. The bill is $88. I asked my wife to leave the tip. I watched. It took her 2 minutes and two tries to find the correct figure in her head. (she will argue the time, but can't argue the tries)
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Sunday, August 26, 2012
A Man in a Woman's World
I am a man in a woman's world. I am a teacher. I am certified to teach grades K through 12. I am male. This puts me in a minority. Information from a quick google search shows what any male teacher could have told you. In 2011, 42% of secondary and 18.3% of middle/elementary teachers are male. I would imagine that these numbers are a surprise to no one. If they are, allow me to lend some anecdotal evidence to explain why.
During a discussion I recently had with friends, I was contemplating the possibility switching from middle and secondary to elementary. One person quipped that he never trusted any male that taught elementary going on to imply the creepiness that goes along with a man willing to teach children of such a young age. Another three people chimed in and gave specific examples of why. I myself was one of them, citing my fourth grade teacher who my mother confessed to me later in life that she never trusted. We mused whether it was true that males lacked the sensibilities that were necessary to be an excellent elementary teacher.
During college, while training to become a teacher, I often found myself to be one of a few males in a class of females. Indeed, I once had a class that focused on differentiated instruction for the integrated classroom where I was the sole male in a lecture of 120. During a discussion in the lecture for that class the subject of mandated reporting came up. I grew up in a foster home (my parents ran it, I was not a foster child) so the subject had a very important meaning to me. I was very familiar with the meaning of mandated reporting and have very strong feelings about it. As the professor explained what it meant to be a mandated reporter some students began to challenge her, saying that we, as teachers, need to have the feelings of parents and guardians in mind when we do such things. My immediate reaction was to sit up straight and pay close attention. Perhaps I had missed something, but my understanding was the point of mandated reporting laws, at this point effective in all 50 states, were in place so that we did not have to consider the feelings of parents and guardians, we only had to consider the welfare of the child. When this girl finished her thought the professor bobbed back and forth and said, "That's not really true."
The girl began to interject, "But..." and I cut her off. In five weeks I had sat in front of this lecture, near the exit and not said a word. My words came, because of my emotional attachment to the issue, unhindered by my uneasiness of being outnumber 120 to 1. "It does not matter if you have the mildest inkling of a thought of a suspicion. It is your duty to protect the child and nothing else. Let me tell you that the only disservice you do by reporting a suspicion is a possible awkward conversation between parents and a counselor. The disservice you do to the child by not reporting can be life-ruining and/or -threatening." The response I received stopped me in my tracks. A different girl said, "but, you're a man! How are you expecting to understand the emotional complexities of children?" (It should be said that the professor for this class immediately jumped on the girl and put her in her place most deftly.)
Really! Really! She said that to me (or something along those lines...it was a decade ago). Because I am a man I am both creepy, ie untrustworthy, and unable to understand the emotional complexities of children. The implication being that I am incapable of showing compassion, but if I show compassion, there might be something funny about me. I cannot win. That day i stopped trying to win and just tried to do the best I could. Truthfully, when that is the attitude, why would any male want to become a teacher.
This has been an issue that I have been able to bond with my wife over. My exhaustive research (first hit on google) shows that the majority of mathematicians are men. One only needs to take a cursory look at graduate programs to see that research positions are taken predominantly by males as well. I do understand that these issues owe much to the historical chauvinism in the sciences and that cannot be recovered overnight. That is not my point. My point is that mathematics is, at times, a man's world. The majority of the friends I have made in the math community are men because they are who are there. I have heard in a number of conversations from people I like and trust, and people I dislike and distrust, such as "this area is really what men do and that area is what women do," or, "I don't really know that women will be able to achieve such and such." These are MINORITY opinions, mind you, but still, one hears them.
However, I am not here to make the argument for women in math. I am not here to make the argument for men in education either. I am here to talk about my relationships with mathematicians. So here it is. This was the day that I knew I was stuck.
If at all possible, academics will attach food to any occasion just like most people do. Thus, when a speaker is invited to town a meal is planned at a local establishment. Spouses are sometimes welcome and I have had the occasion to go to a few of these meals. I spent a long time sitting across from an elderly professor who told me of his history in education and academia. A series of funny anecdotes that anyone in any field would find entertaining and engaging. Somewhere around the middle of the meal, as often (always) happens at table of mathematicians in a social situation, the conversations turns to math. I do not have a problem with this even though the level of the subject matter being discussed makes the conversation exclusionary to me. My wife gets overly excited and slightly emotional (not in a crying way though, it's more of an intensity where she occasionally flutters her hands in a spastic manner). Tempers flare, people laugh, get angry, chide, tease, etc. and I begin to zone out and go to my happy place.
I am used to this. I do find it mildly entertaining. Sometimes they look to me and explain something to catch me up and I nod and say something that gives the impression 'Well yes, I have a full understanding of multivariable calculus and really do appreciate your attention to me as I only needed that little tidbit containing meaningless-to-me words to jump on in and bestow upon you my opinion of the possibilities involved in this invariant that you have talked about all day and are going to try and sum up with a napkin-shaker-green bean explanation that you don't see as condescension.'
I would have stayed contemplating the timing of my next oil change had I not glanced across that table at the professor with whom I was speaking earlier. He grabbed my attention with one of those come hither NOW grunts that are discouraged when heard from young children, considered rude from an adult, but endearing from the elderly. He had obviously been contemplating my new found interest in the glassware hanging from the rafters over the bar. He leant in and grunted again to start his thought, "Ya' know, in my day, you would have been the woman," and turned to the conversation to tell everyone why they were wrong. He said this with no indignation and no malice. He just wanted me to know that I am a man in... what was previously... a woman's world.
During a discussion I recently had with friends, I was contemplating the possibility switching from middle and secondary to elementary. One person quipped that he never trusted any male that taught elementary going on to imply the creepiness that goes along with a man willing to teach children of such a young age. Another three people chimed in and gave specific examples of why. I myself was one of them, citing my fourth grade teacher who my mother confessed to me later in life that she never trusted. We mused whether it was true that males lacked the sensibilities that were necessary to be an excellent elementary teacher.
During college, while training to become a teacher, I often found myself to be one of a few males in a class of females. Indeed, I once had a class that focused on differentiated instruction for the integrated classroom where I was the sole male in a lecture of 120. During a discussion in the lecture for that class the subject of mandated reporting came up. I grew up in a foster home (my parents ran it, I was not a foster child) so the subject had a very important meaning to me. I was very familiar with the meaning of mandated reporting and have very strong feelings about it. As the professor explained what it meant to be a mandated reporter some students began to challenge her, saying that we, as teachers, need to have the feelings of parents and guardians in mind when we do such things. My immediate reaction was to sit up straight and pay close attention. Perhaps I had missed something, but my understanding was the point of mandated reporting laws, at this point effective in all 50 states, were in place so that we did not have to consider the feelings of parents and guardians, we only had to consider the welfare of the child. When this girl finished her thought the professor bobbed back and forth and said, "That's not really true."
The girl began to interject, "But..." and I cut her off. In five weeks I had sat in front of this lecture, near the exit and not said a word. My words came, because of my emotional attachment to the issue, unhindered by my uneasiness of being outnumber 120 to 1. "It does not matter if you have the mildest inkling of a thought of a suspicion. It is your duty to protect the child and nothing else. Let me tell you that the only disservice you do by reporting a suspicion is a possible awkward conversation between parents and a counselor. The disservice you do to the child by not reporting can be life-ruining and/or -threatening." The response I received stopped me in my tracks. A different girl said, "but, you're a man! How are you expecting to understand the emotional complexities of children?" (It should be said that the professor for this class immediately jumped on the girl and put her in her place most deftly.)
Really! Really! She said that to me (or something along those lines...it was a decade ago). Because I am a man I am both creepy, ie untrustworthy, and unable to understand the emotional complexities of children. The implication being that I am incapable of showing compassion, but if I show compassion, there might be something funny about me. I cannot win. That day i stopped trying to win and just tried to do the best I could. Truthfully, when that is the attitude, why would any male want to become a teacher.
This has been an issue that I have been able to bond with my wife over. My exhaustive research (first hit on google) shows that the majority of mathematicians are men. One only needs to take a cursory look at graduate programs to see that research positions are taken predominantly by males as well. I do understand that these issues owe much to the historical chauvinism in the sciences and that cannot be recovered overnight. That is not my point. My point is that mathematics is, at times, a man's world. The majority of the friends I have made in the math community are men because they are who are there. I have heard in a number of conversations from people I like and trust, and people I dislike and distrust, such as "this area is really what men do and that area is what women do," or, "I don't really know that women will be able to achieve such and such." These are MINORITY opinions, mind you, but still, one hears them.
However, I am not here to make the argument for women in math. I am not here to make the argument for men in education either. I am here to talk about my relationships with mathematicians. So here it is. This was the day that I knew I was stuck.
If at all possible, academics will attach food to any occasion just like most people do. Thus, when a speaker is invited to town a meal is planned at a local establishment. Spouses are sometimes welcome and I have had the occasion to go to a few of these meals. I spent a long time sitting across from an elderly professor who told me of his history in education and academia. A series of funny anecdotes that anyone in any field would find entertaining and engaging. Somewhere around the middle of the meal, as often (always) happens at table of mathematicians in a social situation, the conversations turns to math. I do not have a problem with this even though the level of the subject matter being discussed makes the conversation exclusionary to me. My wife gets overly excited and slightly emotional (not in a crying way though, it's more of an intensity where she occasionally flutters her hands in a spastic manner). Tempers flare, people laugh, get angry, chide, tease, etc. and I begin to zone out and go to my happy place.
I am used to this. I do find it mildly entertaining. Sometimes they look to me and explain something to catch me up and I nod and say something that gives the impression 'Well yes, I have a full understanding of multivariable calculus and really do appreciate your attention to me as I only needed that little tidbit containing meaningless-to-me words to jump on in and bestow upon you my opinion of the possibilities involved in this invariant that you have talked about all day and are going to try and sum up with a napkin-shaker-green bean explanation that you don't see as condescension.'
I would have stayed contemplating the timing of my next oil change had I not glanced across that table at the professor with whom I was speaking earlier. He grabbed my attention with one of those come hither NOW grunts that are discouraged when heard from young children, considered rude from an adult, but endearing from the elderly. He had obviously been contemplating my new found interest in the glassware hanging from the rafters over the bar. He leant in and grunted again to start his thought, "Ya' know, in my day, you would have been the woman," and turned to the conversation to tell everyone why they were wrong. He said this with no indignation and no malice. He just wanted me to know that I am a man in... what was previously... a woman's world.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
An Introduction and Explanation
My name is Matt and I married a mathematician. Yeah, you may not be sure why it is that I am telling you this or why you should care, but let me tell you, my life is...well...complex. Please, at any point, do not doubt my happiness or my love for my wife. I love my wife. I would do anything for her. I have followed her through moves, personal and physical difficulties, educational crises, hysterical academic polemics, collegial arguments about snack time, debate of the function of departmental mother figures, hobbies of the obsessive and compulsive type, power stuggles (both actual and perceived), linguistic shortcomings and failures, familial discord, a commute that would bring a tear to a trucker's eye, epic disagreements with religious affiliates, idiomatic and metaphoric ignorance, and I have not even touched the issues that actually involve some form of mathematics. I have followed her through this and more, and I say to you, do not judge the things that I say. I love her. I love her more than life itself.
I do not say the things I say here in order to give you a foul impression of who she is. I do not say the things I say here to justify the things that I do. I love my wife for the things that she does. The quirks that bless/plague us are not necessarily more frequent than those of a regular marriage, they are just of a different type than those experienced by (I might think) many of you. I tell stories of her to people who have yet to meet her and they often judge me harsh. After they get to know both of us they see my anecdotes as my worship of her and my coping mechanism. These people, without fail, begin to collect their own stories with similar motivations.
My wife is exceptional. She is exceptional in mathematics and is working on her Ph. D. at a major university in the United States. Let it be said for the math people out there reading this (and others for that matter), I claim no actual useful knowledge of math, nor do I have evidence of her genius or lack thereof. If I did, I wouldn't know what to do with it. I am at the mercy of the people who surround her to base this judgement. My wife is also exceptional in her interaction with the rest of the world. As I explain this people often volunteer the paraphrasis, "Oh, she's an eccentric!" That doesn't really cover it. Eccentric has the implication of odd and impersonal. Although she occasionally comes off as odd to people, it is not the predominant impression; She is nothing if not personable. Also, she showers regularly, she doesn't collect her nail clippings in jars, doesn't randomly show up to peoples houses to spend the night and then wake them at 2AM by banging on pots and pans so that they will come and talk to her, and she most certainly has the ability to have normal, healthy relationships. Does she have eccentricities? Yes. Is she an eccentric? No. She is a mathematician.
Not all mathematicians are like her. The distribution of mean, nice, likable, and unlikable people amongst mathematicians is the same as any other group of people. Many are viewed as "normal." When I say mathematicians, please don't accuse me of stereotyping. These are some of my favorite people in the world. They stood up at my wedding (on both sides), they have helped me move, they have been shoulders for me to cry on, and they have been the fuel to our celebrations. The only (possible) slight I confess to is the belief that mathematicians, more often than in other groups, react to the world outside of their own in a curious manner. With the forthcoming posts, my goal is to explore these curiosities for the sake of the rest of the world (and hopefully for some humor). I do not plan to only speak of my wife either (hence the blog name). I will, in general terms, discuss other mathematicians and common habits and quirks as well, e.g. go to a restaurant with a mathematician and have them do the math to split the check and figure out the tip (No really, do it. You'll be amazed.).
If you have a mathematician or mathematically minded person in your life (I'm looking at you CS spouses), I believe you will understand and enjoy this blog, If you don't, this is really for you. People of my wife's ilk are the people that have given us many of the things that shape our lives. Without these people the technological revolution would not have happened. You should know what they're like and not just shrug them off as "eccentric."
So, I invite you to the world into which I married. Come and see what a guy who bid farewell to math after algebra 2 in high school does surrounded by those whose drunken challenges are "Who can integrate secant cubed first with a dry erase marker on the patio door?!" (q.v. background)
PS The vagueness in respect to my wife's name and our location are intentional. If you know who we are, by all means, pass along the blog, but we wish (and I know this seems silly being written on a public blog) for some privacy pertaining to our identities for professional reasons for both of us.
I do not say the things I say here in order to give you a foul impression of who she is. I do not say the things I say here to justify the things that I do. I love my wife for the things that she does. The quirks that bless/plague us are not necessarily more frequent than those of a regular marriage, they are just of a different type than those experienced by (I might think) many of you. I tell stories of her to people who have yet to meet her and they often judge me harsh. After they get to know both of us they see my anecdotes as my worship of her and my coping mechanism. These people, without fail, begin to collect their own stories with similar motivations.
My wife is exceptional. She is exceptional in mathematics and is working on her Ph. D. at a major university in the United States. Let it be said for the math people out there reading this (and others for that matter), I claim no actual useful knowledge of math, nor do I have evidence of her genius or lack thereof. If I did, I wouldn't know what to do with it. I am at the mercy of the people who surround her to base this judgement. My wife is also exceptional in her interaction with the rest of the world. As I explain this people often volunteer the paraphrasis, "Oh, she's an eccentric!" That doesn't really cover it. Eccentric has the implication of odd and impersonal. Although she occasionally comes off as odd to people, it is not the predominant impression; She is nothing if not personable. Also, she showers regularly, she doesn't collect her nail clippings in jars, doesn't randomly show up to peoples houses to spend the night and then wake them at 2AM by banging on pots and pans so that they will come and talk to her, and she most certainly has the ability to have normal, healthy relationships. Does she have eccentricities? Yes. Is she an eccentric? No. She is a mathematician.
Not all mathematicians are like her. The distribution of mean, nice, likable, and unlikable people amongst mathematicians is the same as any other group of people. Many are viewed as "normal." When I say mathematicians, please don't accuse me of stereotyping. These are some of my favorite people in the world. They stood up at my wedding (on both sides), they have helped me move, they have been shoulders for me to cry on, and they have been the fuel to our celebrations. The only (possible) slight I confess to is the belief that mathematicians, more often than in other groups, react to the world outside of their own in a curious manner. With the forthcoming posts, my goal is to explore these curiosities for the sake of the rest of the world (and hopefully for some humor). I do not plan to only speak of my wife either (hence the blog name). I will, in general terms, discuss other mathematicians and common habits and quirks as well, e.g. go to a restaurant with a mathematician and have them do the math to split the check and figure out the tip (No really, do it. You'll be amazed.).
If you have a mathematician or mathematically minded person in your life (I'm looking at you CS spouses), I believe you will understand and enjoy this blog, If you don't, this is really for you. People of my wife's ilk are the people that have given us many of the things that shape our lives. Without these people the technological revolution would not have happened. You should know what they're like and not just shrug them off as "eccentric."
So, I invite you to the world into which I married. Come and see what a guy who bid farewell to math after algebra 2 in high school does surrounded by those whose drunken challenges are "Who can integrate secant cubed first with a dry erase marker on the patio door?!" (q.v. background)
PS The vagueness in respect to my wife's name and our location are intentional. If you know who we are, by all means, pass along the blog, but we wish (and I know this seems silly being written on a public blog) for some privacy pertaining to our identities for professional reasons for both of us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)