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Dreaded Algebra
The Perils of Parenting
My second least favorite words from my teenagers were always, “Mom, I need help with my homework.”
I love numbers. I love algebra. To me, it’s one big fun puzzle. Unfortunately, my kids do not share my enthusiasm. Our usual exchange would go like this:
I write down the problem, and step-by-step, show them how to solve for X.
“Mom, I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?” I point to the page. “It’s right here in black and white.”
“How can A be three?” He throws his hands in the air. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Patience, I tell myself. Breathe… two… three… I start over. “Look, if X…”
“Letters aren’t numbers.” He throws down his pencil in disgust. “Why do I even have to learn this stuff? I’ll never use it.” (Let me insert here that he’s now grown and uses algebra daily in his career.)
“Son, if you want to graduate, you must pass this. Let’s try again.”
During the pandemic, we all thought of the obvious heroes — and they ARE heroes: the nurses, doctors, emergency medical technicians, law enforcement officers, and firefighters. I’ve been an EMT and a firefighter. My husband is a law enforcement officer. I’ve also raised five children and have eight…
