Right now in geometry class, we’re doing proofs, and honestly, I highly doubt anybody will ever have to use what we’re learning after they graduate college. Unless he or she becomes a mathematician and wins a Nobel prize (jk: there’s no Nobel for math). For example, my sister is a fashion designer, and the only math she does for work is measuring.
It’s not like I’m going to grow up and go shopping for a triangular rug for a triangular room and be like: hey, the rug and the room are congruent by SAS(afras)- it’s going to fit perfectly! I would probably just eyeball it. But anyways, this is not meant to be a relatable post. This is supposed to be a post where I talk about how school actually does transfer to “real life.” (It hurts me a little to say that because in the next hundred words, I’m going to destroy my whole entire life’s argument with my dad for getting out of extra math classes.)
Anyways, moving on.
1. Activation Energy
The other day in history/English, my teacher (the one who made us “warm up” our books) gave one of his fifteen minute devotional lessons at the beginning of class. He talked to us about how he thinks it’s best to spend time with God in the morning and how, in his opinion, it takes ONE HOUR (which is a long time) for a quiet time to be completely effective.
That same day, after school, I was reviewing my biology notes and read over the definition of activation energy: the energy needed for a chemical reaction to take place. And I was like WAIT A SECOND, that sounds exactly like what my teacher was talking about. Energy = time spent in the Bible and chemical reaction = Jesus changing our lives.
SO COOL, RIGHT? And I highly doubt my history/English and biology teacher got together to compare lesson plans.
2. Figures are not drawn to scale
I feel like this is a lesson you learn pretty early. No matter whether or not the lines look perfectly perpendicular to each other or even if you measure the angles with a protractor (or the corner of a piece of paper), the figure is not drawn to scale. You still cannot assume anything.
Now here’s a non-math related problem. Given: a volleyball game. The score is 24-19, them, in the second set. It was 19-19, but we weren’t able to escape serve receive. The game point serve comes over, and I go for it, but it is clearly my friend’s ball. We lost the point and the game.
From that set of givens, I prove a stream of thoughts that run and rerun through my head: I literally stole her ball. I am such a ballhog. I didn’t trust my friends. I am the worst teammate ever. She must be so mad at me right now.
For the next twenty minutes as we cheered on our varsity team, I couldn’t stop worrying about that last point. As the first set was coming to an end, I couldn’t take it anymore and moved next to her and apologized. She responded like I was bonkers for still thinking about the whole thing.
I went from my given to my proof through a mathematically illegal route. I assumed what she was thinking. I assumed what the rest of my teammates were thinking. Never assume what another person is thinking: that is a lesson I really, really, really need to learn. It would save me so much stress and anxiety.
And the weird thing is, I don’t even do this with strangers or new people. I do it with my friends. I’m too senstive to their body language and think that they’re annoyed at me or something stupid. Basically, I overthink things.
I’m about to start reading the Odyssey for school. On the positive side, it’s a nice, big, floppy paperback with textured page edges. On the negative side, it’s big and probably confusing. If you’ve read it for school or for fun, I would strongly appreciate any sort of heads up. Also, what are some great things to do when you hang out with friends? Because I am running out of ideas.