I won’t ever forget my college algebra professor who taught Math as if it was a Humanities subject (he habitually quoted Shakespeare & Socrates). He was patient & empathetic. He said, "Math cannot be more complicated than Life since the former is merely a part of the latter.”

I’ve always known I can get quite good at Math when push comes to shove, I just don’t care for how it was taught in school. His class proved it: I aced all of his exams, bec there was mutual respect & I didn’t want to disappoint someone who’s passionate about what he’s teaching.

During our finals, I finished 1st. He added a bonus question in the exam that was supposed to be difficult, since it wasn’t taught in class, but I was determined to get that point, w/c I did. He told me he was proud of me, & I thought then I wanted to be a teacher just like him.

He looked at my paper then & was surprised I got the q correct. He said I did a good job coming up with a method on my own. I didn’t think that was possible, I thought Math was all rigid rules. He asked, “What’s your course again?” “Literature, sir.” “Oh. That’s a shame.”

He told me to visit him if I ever decide to shift to BS Math. I didn’t, ofc. After that semester, we would run into each other every now and then at thrift book stores. I would see him flipping through novels or get lost in thought near the Philosophy or Natural Science sections.

College algebra is not that hard I know, but it can really be a drag for people like me, who simply has trouble seeing the world through numbers & operations. Before I can solve an equation, I have to translate it into sentences. My teacher did that for the whole class.

Anyway, just a trip down memory lane. It’s really funny how things work out...