Because I’ve been tutoring for a while, I’ve amassed a respectable amount of knowledge of high school subjects. The trouble is that I’m not sure how useful this is to me in the adult world. Most people find instances in every day conversation to talk about the knowledge they’ve gained from their professions. Doctors might mention something interesting about the human body. We all have one, after all, so that’s a pretty universal topic. Lawyers might say something about litigation. We live in California, so most of us know someone who’s suing someone. But the quadratic equation just doesn’t come up much in casual conversation—even when I mention that I can recite it to the tune of “Pop! Goes the Weasel.” (Distressingly, not even my students want to hear me sing it when I tell them this, but fortunately I don’t need much encouragement.)
My useless knowledge is not limited to high school subjects. I’m not sure if I’m smarter than a fifth grader, but I think I could at least give the average ten-year-old a run for his money. Ask me the state capital of Florida or how to divide fractions or to describe the Stamp Act, and I can get pretty intimidating.
I don’t mean to say that everything kids learn in school is useless. That thought is far too political for me to process, and my life would feel rather meaningless if I really did admit that all of this knowledge is futile. Some of the knowledge is useful; it’s just that it’s still not conversational fodder. After a meal at a restaurant, for instance, I’m all over that fifth grade knowledge of percentages and decimals, so I can calculate the tip in my head in two different ways. Two! But does anyone want me to? No. They want to whip out their cell phones and calculate it themselves. Even if I can do it faster, they’re skeptical of anything that doesn’t involve a calculator.
The other day when I was at Macy’s with my husband (also a teacher), we had a similar experience. I wanted to know the price of a necklace originally marked $200 that was advertised as 50% off. However, in true Macy’s fashion, there was another sign telling us we could take an additional 15% off. We had two coupons, one of which gave us another $20 off, the other which allowed an additional 20% discount. We were only allowed to use one coupon. Which coupon should we use? So fun! A real life math word problem! Being nerds with an in depth knowledge of all things high school, we determined the price of the necklace and which coupon to use. Did the sales lady believe us, though? No! She was mumbling something about the final total being over a hundred dollars, and scurried off to her cash register to check. What’s the use of being an expert on percentages if no one believes you? We are elementary level math prophets who are not accepted in our own time.
(Do you want to know how we calculated the answer to that exciting word problem? Ask me about it next time we see each other at a party! What a scintillating topic. We’re sure to draw a crowd.)
My useless knowledge is not limited to high school subjects. I’m not sure if I’m smarter than a fifth grader, but I think I could at least give the average ten-year-old a run for his money. Ask me the state capital of Florida or how to divide fractions or to describe the Stamp Act, and I can get pretty intimidating.
I don’t mean to say that everything kids learn in school is useless. That thought is far too political for me to process, and my life would feel rather meaningless if I really did admit that all of this knowledge is futile. Some of the knowledge is useful; it’s just that it’s still not conversational fodder. After a meal at a restaurant, for instance, I’m all over that fifth grade knowledge of percentages and decimals, so I can calculate the tip in my head in two different ways. Two! But does anyone want me to? No. They want to whip out their cell phones and calculate it themselves. Even if I can do it faster, they’re skeptical of anything that doesn’t involve a calculator.
The other day when I was at Macy’s with my husband (also a teacher), we had a similar experience. I wanted to know the price of a necklace originally marked $200 that was advertised as 50% off. However, in true Macy’s fashion, there was another sign telling us we could take an additional 15% off. We had two coupons, one of which gave us another $20 off, the other which allowed an additional 20% discount. We were only allowed to use one coupon. Which coupon should we use? So fun! A real life math word problem! Being nerds with an in depth knowledge of all things high school, we determined the price of the necklace and which coupon to use. Did the sales lady believe us, though? No! She was mumbling something about the final total being over a hundred dollars, and scurried off to her cash register to check. What’s the use of being an expert on percentages if no one believes you? We are elementary level math prophets who are not accepted in our own time.
(Do you want to know how we calculated the answer to that exciting word problem? Ask me about it next time we see each other at a party! What a scintillating topic. We’re sure to draw a crowd.)
