The Problem With Math

The problem with math begins as soon as you decide you are an English person. All of a sudden, you find yourself aligned with the English/History/Humanities group and anything number-related, by default, has now become your arch-nemesis.

"I hate math!" I remember declaring to myself and to anyone who would listen. At one point, I had read a book in which the main character, upon starting middle school, hated both math and her math teacher. I figured that was what one was supposed to do when starting middle school, so my entrance to seventh grade was also the beginning of my real math aversion. I don't remember having real difficulties with math before, but suddenly math was most definitely not my thing. I would argue every little point with my teacher, trying to prove how it just didn't make sense. The truth was, some of this was genuine math/english friction. It wasn't that I couldn't do math, it was that I didn't like not understanding what I was doing. I didn't like meaningless formulas. And my teacher never sufficiently explained what things meant. I kept asking her how it was possible to multiply something by a negative number - especially multiplying two negative numbers and coming out with a positive. It didn't make sense to me to have negative five and then multiply that not ten times and come out with fifty! Huh?!*

In eighth grade, the girl who sat behind me asked if she could cheat off of me during a test. I remember being incredibly baffled. Cheat off of me? But I hate math! Math is not my thing. Do I have to make it any clearer? You will not get the right answers if you cheat off of me. Aside from the fact that I'm vehemently against cheating, the idea of cheating off of me in math seemed like sheer idiocy!**

I have no idea how well I actually did in math. I just know that I hated it.

...Except I didn't really hate it. I didn't have any particular issues with it. In tenth grade, I even allowed myself to like logic proofs. I loved logic. It was my favorite part of math.

In eleventh grade, I actually did hate math. For real this time. We were doing trig and for those of you who suffered through trig as I did, you'll probably know what I mean when I say that it frustrated me to not be able to understand what a sine, cosine, or tangent was. And when I asked, I didn't want some equation thrown at me. I wanted a real answer. I did not like having to use some button on a calculator I did not at all understand in order to figure out things I didn't even care about. Who cared about any of that stuff anyway? Certainly not me. When would I ever need to figure out the sine of something in real life? What the heck does a sine even mean?

That is why I loathed trig.

This past summer, I went to visit D2 in the city and we got into a whole long discussion about infinity. I found it all fascinating. I even remember saying it would make such a great blog post. To that, D2 replied, "it's all calculus."

...What?!

That confused me. Here was an English major who hated math her whole life (with the exception of logic proofs, of course) and now she was involved in an extremely fascinating discussion about calculus. How?!?!

You know, I think a lot of things we think we don't like are things that we possibly just don't understand. Either we had a bad teacher or we weren't ready to learn something yet or we went in with a prejudice that we weren't supposed to like something. You ever have that? You go into a class where most people don't like the teacher and you find yourself kind of liking her but you keep it to yourself because, I mean, no one likes her, why on earth do you? Or how about, for the English people out there, if you've ever read a book when you were younger, hated it, read it again in college and loved it? I know that's happened to me more than once. Just because you have the capabilities to read more mature books at a young age doesn't mean you have the maturity to properly approach the issues it deals with. That's why it's good sometimes to shed your prejudices from when you were younger and come at something old with new eyes. You'll be surprised how your understanding and opinions might change.

I'm not saying I all of a sudden like math. I'm just saying that teachers, circumstance, and maturity have a lot to do with what we like and don't like as a kid. And sometimes that can change when we're older. Sometimes we think we don't like something because we've convinced ourselves we don't, but we haven't really given it a chance, in truth. As our understandings of the world change, I think it's good to give old things a new try. In general. (No, I don't want to start doing math. I'm just using it to make a point.)

*Actually, now I think I get it. If you owe five dollars, that's -5, so if you don't owe five dollars ten times, you end up with fifty dollars more than if you had owed five dollars ten times. Yeah?

**Also, if a person was going to cheat off of me, I would not want to know about it. I hate cheating, and what's more, there's nothing in it for me to move my paper on a desk so the girl behind me can see it except the possibility of getting caught. But I think cheating is absolutely vile and I don't understand how a person could live with herself if she hasn't really achieved by her own merit the grades and accomplishments people judge her by. It's good for your self-worth not to cheat, not to think you have to use someone else as a crutch in order to achieve. You can do it on your own if you put in the effort. Really.

The Problem With Advice

Advice, especially when actively sought after, can be extremely helpful. But when people give you advice, they are missing one crucial thing. They are not you.

Sometimes a thing may have a practical answer, but it is in your best interest to reject it anyway. Not always. Not even necessarily most of the time. But when it comes to certain things about yourself (that are not harmful), sometimes you know best.

For example:

When I was younger, I was in the middle of reading a certain YA book and decided to write to the author. I confided in her various difficulties I was having with my amateur writing abilities. Her response to me: Maybe you shouldn't be a writer.

I can't even begin to describe the pang those few words gave me. The sinking feeling that what I wanted to do most - even at that young age - was being snatched from my grasp all because I mustered the courage to ask for advice. And then, in anger, I decided this author knew nothing about me, that she was a horrible person for discouraging a young kid, and I boycotted her books. I marched straight to the library and returned the one I was in the middle of - and I have never read a single book by her since.

It's always good to listen to advice. You never know when someone's going to say something useful. But it's even more important to remember that you know yourself best, that advice comes with a choice, it's just an option, not something binding that you must follow.

Even more - it's crucial not to feel discouraged just because someone else thinks you're not good enough. What does that person know?

Sometimes you just have to listen to yourself.

The Problem With Modern Orthodoxy

[Disclaimer: I don't presume to know everything about Modern Orthodoxy or labels in general. If I get anything wrong, I do apologize. Let me know and I'll try to fix it.]

No, I am not going to post about the Sneetches again, but I am going to argue that the term "Modern Orthodoxy" is one of the more meaningless labels we Jews plaster onto each other.

The concept behind Modern Orthodoxy sounds clear - some sort of synthesis of Torah and the modern world, right? But what does this mean in practicality? Is it YU's Torah U'Mada? Is it Bnei Akiva's Torah v'Avodah? Is it something else entirely?

The truth is, the history of it doesn't matter much when it comes to how it's applied nowadays, because the fact is that people aren't analyzing what it means when they call someone "Modern Orthodox." The issue which arises is that Modern Orthodoxy covers a huge range of religious levels, from those who loiter around the more modern end of the spectrum and those who hang out on the more Orthodox end. And some prefer to take a stroll every now and then, spending some time on the more modern side of things, some time on the more orthodox side. Some sit on a seesaw, rising and falling from one extreme to another. And still some perfer to picnic somewhere in the middle.

The point is that the term Modern Orthodoxy can be and is applied to all of the following people:

A. The girl who goes to a co-ed school, very co-ed camp, wears tank tops and shorts when it's hot enough, sweat pants when it's cooler - skirts to school, probably, hangs out with a lot of guys, not at all shomer negiah, keeps shabbos and kosher.

B. The girl who goes to a single-sex high school but still hangs out with guys, wears pants when she's not in school, short sleeves, not quite shomer negiah, is otherwise in keeping with halacha (for the most part).

C. The girl who has a bit of co-ed in her life but not a ton, wears skirts the cover the knee, sleeves that cover the elbow, shomer negiah, cares about and keeps halacha.

I was going to add D, the girl who has absolutely no co-ed in her life, but to be honest, I have never met anyone, even on the more yeshivish side, who has never had any sort of friendship with a guy (which doesn't mean such people don't exist, I just have yet to come across them). So I'm not sure how much D is actually an ideal as opposed to a reality.

Even while making this list, I felt a certain amount of disgust with myself. For one thing, notice that I am judging these people based on two main principles: mode of dress, level of co-edness. Nothing about the girl's (and you can imagine this list for a guy, as well) connection with God, with the Torah, etc. No ideology involved there at all. Of course, you would think that if one cared enough about halacha, she would try more to keep it. I think that is assumed when such judging occurs, and I think that while this is usually somewhat valid, it should also be done with care and caution. It is good to be open minded about why people do what they do instead of assuming you know.

But benefit of the doubt is not the point of this post (although it's good to remember that it is a principle in Judaism, for all those who are genuinely concerned with following Jewish principles). The point is that if you were to tell someone you have a Modern Orthodox friend, what would that mean? Would that person think your friend is like girl A? or B? or C? Or something in between? Or something else?

Notice how none of the descriptions in my list have anything to do with principles of an ideology. It's all about externals. Because I think that Modern Orthodoxy has lost its ideology. It seems to have become this loose term to describe people who are not Conservative Jews - they're definitely Orthodox, but are not Yeshivish...

Isn't that insane? To presume to lump together everyone in between Conservative and Yeshivish? Don't you realize how wide - how vast - that spectrum is?

And that is why, in my opinion, Modern Orthodoxy, as a term, means nothing. As the idea it once was - does that still exist? But that is not how the term is thrown around. The idea is no longer connected to the name.

So if I were to call myself Modern Orthodox...what would that mean? What would I be saying about myself? I don't think I would be saying very much. All I'd be saying is...I am more modern than Yeshivish.

I was going to propose a new label called "Orthodox Jews Who Keep Halacha," but even that is problematic, because define "keeping halacha." Halacha according to whom? Keeping halacha means different things to different people, just like being modern means different things, being frum means different things, being machmir means different things.

The problem with labels is that they spawn new labels. Once you name a group of people, you've got to also address the subgroups. And the subgroups of that. And the subgroups of that. You see how it's never ending?

I am increasingly frustrated with being labeled "Modern Orthodox." Because it says absolutely nothing about who I am or how I practice Judaism. I am frustrated with my own list of stereotypes. No one should fall into a list of types.

Why can't I just be seen as a Jewish girl who keeps and genuinely cares about halacha and the Torah, without being stamped with a label? I'd like not to be defined by a term. I'd like to be defined by who I actually am.

The Problem With Drama

(Note: this post is not about any one specific thing, but rather was inspired by a number of situations, both where I was involved and where I was just an observer. Don't worry Ima, everything is fine.)

The problem with drama is that it's never worth it.

Some people thrive on drama. I know people like that. Every little thing has to be turned into a dramatic production, and if they can't find something to be dramatic over, they go searching for things.

Some people never seem fazed by much. They are always happy, always in a good mood, and always strong enough to let certain unpleasantries bounce right off them. That doesn't mean things don't bother them. But they seem to be very good at not letting those things get in the way of anyone else.

Other people are usually pretty mild-mannered and chilled out, except on occasion. If they feel particularly insulted or hurt, or if they feel some injustice is being done either against them or against someone they care about, they'll get upset. Noticeably upset. But these are not people who like dramatic situations - not like the first kind of people I described. These people usually shy away from drama except when they feel they can't, or ought not to, or are too upset not to, and then without even realizing it's happening until it's too late to respectfully extricate themselves, they find themselves entangled in a situation they never wanted to be in. Sometimes they are strong enough to take a deep breath, back away, and let things fall back into place, taking whatever criticism of their behavior and moving on. Sometimes, though, pride gets in the way and no matter how much they want to, they can't pull back and, instead, just get more and more and more tripped up in their own mess. And because they are unlike group number one, being so entrenched in drama makes them want to throw up, and all they want is to find some way to be untangled and have everything return to normal. The problem with that is that there was usually some real reason for getting involved in the mess in the first place and if that reason is not solved, the person does not feel too much better.

I put myself in this third group.

In some ways, this third group seems the most balanced. Chilled out except when something deserves getting upset over. Right? But - no. Because getting upset should not be that dramatic.

I think the ideal is really the second category. It's good to always remember to treat people with respect, even if you aren't particularly happy with something they might have done. And most of the time, it isn't worth it to get upset with your close friends. Actually, it's almost never worth it.

I really, really, really admire people who always manage to smile and seem like they're in a good mood, even if they're not underneath. Of course we all need our moments when we're honest with ourselves, or with a friend, and let things bother us. And things should bother us. And sometimes if you react badly, it doesn't mean that you were wrong about being upset. What you were wrong about was the way you handled being upset.

I think one of the hardest challenges is learning to swallow your pride. There are many kinds of apologies, but there are two I'm thinking about. One is easy. It's motivated by your hurt pride. It's an apology because you're scared and insecure. You want to be reassured that everything is okay, so you say you're sorry. And you really are sorry, too. It's just that you're not apologizing because you want it all to be over. You're apologizing because you want the other side to make you feel better. And maybe to apologize also. And maybe they should apologize also. But a real apology shouldn't be asking for an apology in return.

That's the other kind of apology I'm thinking about. The kind that is so genuine and sincere, it just wants to be accepted, nothing more.

The other thing I want to say is that I think a lot of this comes with maturity. I see it as a sign of maturity, how much you let other things get to you and how you handle things when they do get to you.

As I get older and more mature, I aspire to reach that second category.

The Problem With Bad Poetry: Revised

(This is what we call the process of revision. Some people don't believe in revising poetry because they think true poetry is just an immediate expression of your deep, inner soul and that's what makes it art. I, on the other hand, highly disagree. Poetry is a craft. And this is why this version of the poem is better than the one I posted earlier. Enjoy!)

Poetry conceits.
Claiming she understands the world
By throwing around words like love, eternity, desire, darkness, soul
When really she knows nothing at all
Except abstraction
And pompous generalization that passes for wisdom
Because it leaves room for every contradictory answer
In the vastness of those weak, empty words.
But what does she know about the ache of an arm raised in the air
As the student waits too long to be called on?
Or the grating of a teacher's voice
As he lectures his pupils to sleep
Or the burn of a paper cut
The suffocating claustrophobia of knowing that no matter what
You won't go to bed before three
And you have nine o'clock class the next morning
Hearing your friends laugh in the next room
When you have a paper to write
The favorite color of the three-year-old you babysit
The fact that your brother puts ketchup on everything
The way chocolate erupts in a milky-sweet lava on your tongue
The gripping panic of startling awake in the night when the light's burned out
The tremulous anxiety of messing up (a test? a friendship? both at once?)
The shaky relief of discovering you haven't
For some poets
Do not partake in the world of ants in your kitchen, ink on your hands, sand in your socks
Some poets
Dismiss the little things
Cracker crumbs
Muddy footprints
Overstuffed planners
For some poets
There is only love, eternity, desire, darkness, soul
Forever.

The Problem With Bad Poetry

Poetry conceits
That one believes she understands the world
By throwing around words like love, eternity, desire, darkness, soul
But really she knows nothing at all
Except abstraction
And pompous generalization that passes for wisdom
Because it leaves room for every contradictory answer
In the vastness of those weak, empty words.
But what does she know about the ache of an arm raised in the air
As the student waits too long to be called on?
Or the grating of a teacher's voice
As he lectures his pupils to sleep?
Or the burn of a paper cut?
The suffocating claustrophobia of knowing that no matter what
You won't be able to go to bed before three
And you have nine o'clock class the next morning?
The pang of exclusion when your friends laugh in the next room
But you have a paper to write?
The exhaustion that envelops one who spends all day focused on other people?
And the warm joy which erupts within when you know a friend appreciates your help?
The tremulous fear of messing up?
The shaky relief of discovering you haven't?
For some poets
Do not partake in the world of the common man
Dismiss the little things that make up each day
Discount the ordinary.
For some poets
There is only love, eternity, desire, darkness, soul.

The Problem With Drawers

Drawers are like black holes. You put things in them and then never see those things again until a year or two later when you decide to clean out your drawers. You have a pile of various papers you want to save for various reasons and that you're hoping to see again or even - GASP - use (like stacks and stacks of plain lined paper or printer paper) but as soon as you put them away, zap! Just like that - they're gone! It is inevitable that drawers without actual appliances in them that are used on a regular basis (like cell phone or ipod chargers) will never, ever get opened unless you're cleaning them out. So unless you plan on cleaning out your drawers every day, say goodbye to anything you stick inside them because whatever it is and however important it may be, it'll slip right out of both sight and mind once you shut it inside that drawer.

The other problem with drawers are people who actually pronounce the silent '-er' at the end. Weirdos.