Today wasn't exactly the most carefree day I've had in my life. I struggled on a math quiz, came home with a bunch of homework, and overall felt a bit tense and annoyed. Sound familiar? Well, maybe you haven't had exactly the same issues I had, but I can safely assume that we've all had our fair share of "bad days." And after I finally took the time to calm down and relax, I began to ponder what I should do to treat the symptoms of my hyperstress, and how I can prevent it in the future. Here's what I found:
1. Put things into perspective
This is perhaps the most important and most effective way of treating "hyperstress." Putting things into perspective allows one to see things in a more open, common, not-so-self-centered light. But this habit is perhaps the hardest one to adopt as well. It requires patience, inner strength, and a willingness to look beyond "me, me, me." Indeed, many times I am still plagued with worries like "When will I get my quiz results back?" over and over again. But that's when I try to think more reasonably. "I still have an A in the class, something which many people dream of having, so why am I worried about one quiz? In many other countries, the "difficult" homework I received today is child's work for them, so why should I complain?" Thinking this way not only makes me feel better, but it also makes me a better, wholesome person.
2. Keep yourself busy
It's certainly not new advice that when a person is so centered on one thing, refocusing their energy on something else will divert their attention from the original thing. In the case of my homework, I promptly took the opportunity this afternoon to take a stroll outside near my house and listen to my iPod after I finished, so as to calm my nerves and keep me sane after a hard day's work. I can tell you with confidence that this method is highly effective and does wonders for your overall demeanor.
3. Find company to spend time with
These days, the time when I finish my homework is also the time when I eat dinner with my family. And as I munched on my turkey and slurped down my soup, I began to feel a sense of joy and contentment, not just because of the food, but also because of the companionship my family provided. It simply felt good to be surrounded by others. It also helped to divert my attention away from my thoughts as well, serving as a double dose of anti-hyperstress medicine. And for those who just can't seem to find the time or opportunity to have a family meal, find a substitute. Maybe connect with the family in another setting, or find friends or neighbors to keep company with. Any situation that is warm and welcoming of your presence is fair game.
4. Let life take its course
This may seem like some sort of "ultra-deterministic" solution to a problem which we have "control" over, but I use the phrase lightly to denote a sense of acceptance. Once a person has done the best that they can (and I mean "the best"), once they've tried their hardest, once they've done as much studying or answered as many math questions as they can, it's time for them to let go. Just let go. Whatever happens happens, and unless someone comes up with a working time machine that lets me retake my math quiz (or better yet, "freezes" time to give me "all the time in the world"), there's nothing we can do to change the past. This can be hard and cruel sometimes, and I am certainly no stranger when it comes to having a hard time moving on. I too am the sort of person who always dwells on nitpicky mistakes or details, ("Did I do this right, what could I have done here?") But no matter how much I whine or contemplate, what's done is done, end of story.
I hope that my report has been of use to you, and I hope that you may find real application for these four strategies taken from an average day of school. Just remember to keep it real, keep it simple, and keep it true.
Best wishes in the fight against hyperstress.
the King
Monday, October 19, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Integrated Math, an Experiment Gone Wrong
If you're a student from Wayzata High School, then there's probably a 90% chance that you took, at one point, an Integrated Math class (unless you're one of those super math geniuses that bypassed the whole system freshman year, to which I have to say I commend your skills in the math ways.) And if you've taken Integrated Math, you've also probably felt frustrated with the system at least once as well. And I don't blame you. With its random subject changes, higher expectations regarding previous expertise, and rapid pace, it's no wonder you might feel the urge every once in a while to rip up that shiny, expensive, paper-covered textbook. To put it in a nutshell, Integrated Math is flawed. It's an equation that yielding only one solution, "ERROR." However, this equation can be solved, but it will take a few adjustments, recalculations, and some formulas to reach the optimal result possible.
Integrated Math is, on paper, a system that is professed in its title, integrated. It "integrates" different mathematical concepts and tries to put them into "real-life" situations, whether it's running a cookie and juice stand to build arches for houses. But while it seems like a good strategy on the surface, in practice the reality is far from Integrated Math's intended goals. It can completely change subjects on you from out of nowhere. One day you may be talking about, say, inequalities and solving them, and before you know it you could be venturing into the wonderful world of similarity and congruence of triangles. Inequalities=triangles? WRONG! But this kind of sudden shift in focus (a real-life example, taken directly from Integrated Math 3X) only begins to reveal the haphazard system Integrated Math truly is.
In order to "integrate" all the subjects Integrated Math teaches, the course requires previous exposure and background to more "basic" math concepts. That's why there isn't one Integrated Math class, or two, but four, one for each year of high school. Such a prerequisite is completely understandable and justified, except for one thing, humans forget things easily, especially during the most wonderful time of the year, summer vacation. Furthermore, in a school like Wayzata, which follows the block system, a person can take a year's worth of math in half the time, and while this does mean that a person can take two years of math for the price of one, it also means that a student can go one, one and a half, or even two years without ever touching a calculator to use for the quadratic formula! That's a long time to forget some of the more "basic" math concepts required for next year's class. A critic of my criticism might counter by suggesting that we remove the block schedule rather than Integrated Math, but my rebuttal would have to be that the block schedule provides way more benefits than Integrated Math ever has or ever will, and thus must take precedent over it. Furthermore, removing the block schedule would create a much larger stir than removing Integrated Math. Block schedule>Integrated Math, period.
If the sudden shifts in curriculum and the imparting of information in the course were spread out over a longer period of time for each unit, some of the problems mentioned above might be substantially or even significantly mitigated. But the sad fact of the matter is that this is not the case. It's not just a matter of shifting from inequalities to triangles, it's a matter of shifting from inequalities to triangles in two weeks' time! This is most certainly not enough time to delve deeply into both of these important subjects, and it certainly aggravates the whole "basic" information business as well. One of my tutors for the PSAT once commented on how it goes by so quickly, only those who are really proficient in math can even hope to keep up with it. The rest of the student population is left scrambling to get their act together to get an A or B in class. This rule applies even in the math X's, or accelerated classes where the more "proficient" students are supposed to be. No, this problem is intensified in math X's; accelerating an already accelerated class is apt to cause hardship and trouble, no matter who's taking the class.
Haphazard unit changes+unrealistic requirements (considering time)+fast pace=UGGGHHHHHH, MELTDOWN!!!!!! Okay, maybe not that. But it does equal a flawed, unrealistic, and unacceptable math curriculum. But it doesn't have to be this way. It's not like every school in Minnesota is under the curse of Integrated Math. There are plenty of other curricula to be used as examples locally, models to be tested and formulated specifically for the home of the Trojans. The students of Wayzata High School demand and deserve the right to a good mathematics education, and hold the power to achieving it. They can talk to school administrators and suggest different curricula. They can research and look up different math textbooks and deliberate on which one's the best and most understandable in the student's eyes. This math problem can and must be solved. Everyone at Wayzata holds the power to pick up their calculators, type in that formula, and get "NO ERROR, ONLY CLARITY" as the answer on their screens.
Integrated Math is, on paper, a system that is professed in its title, integrated. It "integrates" different mathematical concepts and tries to put them into "real-life" situations, whether it's running a cookie and juice stand to build arches for houses. But while it seems like a good strategy on the surface, in practice the reality is far from Integrated Math's intended goals. It can completely change subjects on you from out of nowhere. One day you may be talking about, say, inequalities and solving them, and before you know it you could be venturing into the wonderful world of similarity and congruence of triangles. Inequalities=triangles? WRONG! But this kind of sudden shift in focus (a real-life example, taken directly from Integrated Math 3X) only begins to reveal the haphazard system Integrated Math truly is.
In order to "integrate" all the subjects Integrated Math teaches, the course requires previous exposure and background to more "basic" math concepts. That's why there isn't one Integrated Math class, or two, but four, one for each year of high school. Such a prerequisite is completely understandable and justified, except for one thing, humans forget things easily, especially during the most wonderful time of the year, summer vacation. Furthermore, in a school like Wayzata, which follows the block system, a person can take a year's worth of math in half the time, and while this does mean that a person can take two years of math for the price of one, it also means that a student can go one, one and a half, or even two years without ever touching a calculator to use for the quadratic formula! That's a long time to forget some of the more "basic" math concepts required for next year's class. A critic of my criticism might counter by suggesting that we remove the block schedule rather than Integrated Math, but my rebuttal would have to be that the block schedule provides way more benefits than Integrated Math ever has or ever will, and thus must take precedent over it. Furthermore, removing the block schedule would create a much larger stir than removing Integrated Math. Block schedule>Integrated Math, period.
If the sudden shifts in curriculum and the imparting of information in the course were spread out over a longer period of time for each unit, some of the problems mentioned above might be substantially or even significantly mitigated. But the sad fact of the matter is that this is not the case. It's not just a matter of shifting from inequalities to triangles, it's a matter of shifting from inequalities to triangles in two weeks' time! This is most certainly not enough time to delve deeply into both of these important subjects, and it certainly aggravates the whole "basic" information business as well. One of my tutors for the PSAT once commented on how it goes by so quickly, only those who are really proficient in math can even hope to keep up with it. The rest of the student population is left scrambling to get their act together to get an A or B in class. This rule applies even in the math X's, or accelerated classes where the more "proficient" students are supposed to be. No, this problem is intensified in math X's; accelerating an already accelerated class is apt to cause hardship and trouble, no matter who's taking the class.
Haphazard unit changes+unrealistic requirements (considering time)+fast pace=UGGGHHHHHH, MELTDOWN!!!!!! Okay, maybe not that. But it does equal a flawed, unrealistic, and unacceptable math curriculum. But it doesn't have to be this way. It's not like every school in Minnesota is under the curse of Integrated Math. There are plenty of other curricula to be used as examples locally, models to be tested and formulated specifically for the home of the Trojans. The students of Wayzata High School demand and deserve the right to a good mathematics education, and hold the power to achieving it. They can talk to school administrators and suggest different curricula. They can research and look up different math textbooks and deliberate on which one's the best and most understandable in the student's eyes. This math problem can and must be solved. Everyone at Wayzata holds the power to pick up their calculators, type in that formula, and get "NO ERROR, ONLY CLARITY" as the answer on their screens.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Who's the REAL animal rights champion, Hearne or Singer?
Although man has used, manipulated, and yes, eaten animals for hundreds, even thousands of years, the issue of whether animals have a claim to rights just as much as we do is a relatively new development. There are many people out there who all agree that the status quo in regards to our relation with animals is flawed or incorrect, and needs to be changed. But at this point, the opinions diverge in completely random directions. Some examples of this difference in thought are Vicki Hearne's essay "What's Wrong With Animal Rights" and Peter Singer's "Animal Liberation." Both claim to be authentic sources of "animal rights" thought; in fact, Hearne slams Singer personally in her essay. So the question remains, who's the real animal rights champion?
Hearne's essay is packed with powerful, emotional appeal. Hearne wastes no time in providing personal analogies and anecdotes with her two dogs, Annie and Drummer to put her point across. She argues strongly in the defense of the owners of pets, while denouncing animal rights organizations like the Humane Society as "the pound, the place with the decompression chamber or the lethal injections." She also considers the term "rights" as a reciprocal responsibility of duties, the government does something for Hearne because she does something for the government, and Drummer does something for Hearne because she does something for Drummer.
In terms of writing style and rhetorical mode, Singer's essay is 180 degrees opposite that of Hearne's. Singer writes in a philosophical, tempered tone, devoid of the strong emotion of Hearne's writing while still preserving his own passions. His structure is simple and to the point, "this is my argument, these are my reasons, these are the counterarguments, this is why they're wrong." Singer argues against the practice of what he calls "speciesism", or favoring the human race over that of "nonhumans," something he places on the same level of racism. He argues against this practice specifically in the fields of animal experimentation and animal consumption, but implies at the end of his essay that there are even more problems to discuss besides these two great issues.
So which author takes first prize? Obviously such a decision is bound to have bias and subjectivity on my part, but my answer in the end is wholeheartedly in favor of Singer. Singer's essay is, in my opinion, crafted far more wittily and logically than Hearne's, whose essay I believe filled with too much pathos appeal and not enough logos or ethos. Furthermore, Hearne's main argument and point is ambiguously hidden in a clutter of "what are rights?" and "look at these stories about Annie and Drummer." Singer's argument, however, is loud and clear, "don't experiment on animals, and don't eat animals." And while I may not be prepared to abandon by T-bone steak or rotisserie chicken anytime soon, Singer is, in my mind, the real animal rights champion compared to Ms. Hearne.
Hearne's essay is packed with powerful, emotional appeal. Hearne wastes no time in providing personal analogies and anecdotes with her two dogs, Annie and Drummer to put her point across. She argues strongly in the defense of the owners of pets, while denouncing animal rights organizations like the Humane Society as "the pound, the place with the decompression chamber or the lethal injections." She also considers the term "rights" as a reciprocal responsibility of duties, the government does something for Hearne because she does something for the government, and Drummer does something for Hearne because she does something for Drummer.
In terms of writing style and rhetorical mode, Singer's essay is 180 degrees opposite that of Hearne's. Singer writes in a philosophical, tempered tone, devoid of the strong emotion of Hearne's writing while still preserving his own passions. His structure is simple and to the point, "this is my argument, these are my reasons, these are the counterarguments, this is why they're wrong." Singer argues against the practice of what he calls "speciesism", or favoring the human race over that of "nonhumans," something he places on the same level of racism. He argues against this practice specifically in the fields of animal experimentation and animal consumption, but implies at the end of his essay that there are even more problems to discuss besides these two great issues.
So which author takes first prize? Obviously such a decision is bound to have bias and subjectivity on my part, but my answer in the end is wholeheartedly in favor of Singer. Singer's essay is, in my opinion, crafted far more wittily and logically than Hearne's, whose essay I believe filled with too much pathos appeal and not enough logos or ethos. Furthermore, Hearne's main argument and point is ambiguously hidden in a clutter of "what are rights?" and "look at these stories about Annie and Drummer." Singer's argument, however, is loud and clear, "don't experiment on animals, and don't eat animals." And while I may not be prepared to abandon by T-bone steak or rotisserie chicken anytime soon, Singer is, in my mind, the real animal rights champion compared to Ms. Hearne.
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