This is my first post in quite some time. I paused to launch a new project, The Intentional Academy Podcast. I hope you’ll check it out. I intend to resume writing here on a regular basis, but I’ll be honest that I haven’t worked out the schedule yet.
A student of mine recently ranted to me that “high school geometry class was a waste of time” because he’d never need to use most of what they’d learned. To be fair, I haven’t thought directly about key geometric concepts since high school – notions such as “side-angle-side” or the “corresponding angles postulate” don’t come up often, even in a geometry-heavy field like engineering. We’re often reminded that computers can perform calculations and even complicated mathematical manipulations – usually by frustrated students who would rather gouge their eyes out than learn long division.
“When am I going to need to use this?”
Questioning the usefulness of the subject is the typical first defense. Sadly, we tend to respond by stooping to the level instead of harvesting a ripe opportunity. We start rattling off circumstances in which a person would need to know a given concept, hoping to find an example that resonates.
The missed opportunity? A chance to share the sense of wonder with a learner.
Somewhere along the lines of mandatory compulsory education and systematic standardized testing a committee decided which concepts every one of us should know (and which we shouldn’t). The ideas on the list are useful, those left off are not. That’s a scary thread to pull at.
Right now, it’s a few minutes past five o’clock on a Sunday morning. I set my alarm and woke up early to read a book on the history of calculus. Perhaps I’ll learn something useful (I often do when I choose to explore an idea). Perhaps not. Either way, I’ll have enjoyed an opportunity to rise above the utilitarian clamor and engage in one of the greatest of human luxuries: curiosity.
Happy learning my friend. I’ve missed you too.
