Math Guiding
I believe every human being makes sense, and when we have the support we need, we can connect with our sense of power, creativity and inner guide. Math is one portal into that.
I work as a math guide with math doers of all ages.
My approach is relational. We start right where you are. I want to hear your story.
Do you want to work together? Are you a parent of a child who wants to work with me? Reach out, and let's connect to make it happen!
It turns out that doing actual math can be a way to connect with soul through things like courage, persistence, wonder, and creative expression of ideas.
This is very different from school math. School math can be an unpleasant and often traumatic experience for many, because the elements mentioned above have been stripped away, leaving behind facts, formulas, and the threat of rejection for wrong answers.
"If you deny students the opportunity to...
pose their own problems,
make their own conjectures and discoveries,
to be wrong,
to be creatively frustrated,
to have an inspiration, and
to cobble together their own explanations and proofs
... you deny them mathematics itself."
~ Paul Lockhart, "A Mathematician's Lament"
Want to experience what doing actual math can look and feel like?
Try this...
How do you see these shapes growing?
There is no wrong answer.
From here, you could ask someone else how they see the shapes growing. See what they say!
If you decide you want to dig deeper, consider grabbing a piece of paper and try these:
What would the 4th case look like?
What would the 10th case look like?
What would the 100th case look like?
What would the 0 case look like?
Which case would have 289 squares?
Can you figure out a generic rule that would work for how to find any case?
Still intrigued and want to think more?...
An excerpt from A Mathematician's Lament, by Paul Lockhart
Mathematicians enjoy thinking about the simplest possible things, and the simplest possible things are imaginary. For example, imagine a triangle within a rectangle:
I wonder how much of the box the triangle takes up? Two-thirds maybe? The important thing to understand is that I’m not talking about this drawing of a triangle in a box. Nor am I talking about some metal triangle forming part of a girder system for a bridge. There’s no ulterior practical purpose here. I’m just playing. That’s what math is— wondering, playing, amusing yourself with your imagination. ... The mathematical question is about an imaginary triangle inside an imaginary box. The edges are perfect because I want them to be— that is the sort of object I prefer to think about. This is a major theme in mathematics: things are what you want them to be. You have endless choices; there is no reality to get in your way.
On the other hand, once you have made your choices (for example I might choose to make my triangle symmetrical, or not) then your new creations do what they do, whether you like it or not. This is the amazing thing about making imaginary patterns: they talk back! The triangle takes up a certain amount of its box, and I don’t have any control over what that amount is. There is a number out there, maybe it’s two-thirds, maybe it isn’t, but I don’t get to say what it is. I have to find out what it is.
So we get to play and imagine whatever we want and make patterns and ask questions about them. But how do we answer these questions? It’s not at all like science. There’s no experiment I can do with test tubes and equipment and whatnot that will tell me the truth about a figment of my imagination. The only way to get at the truth about our imaginations is to use our imaginations, and that is hard work.
In the case of the triangle in its box, I do see something simple and pretty:
If I chop the rectangle into two pieces like this, I can see that each piece is cut diagonally in half by the sides of the triangle. So there is just as much space inside the triangle as outside. That means that the triangle must take up exactly half the box!
This is what a piece of mathematics looks and feels like. That little narrative is an example of the mathematician’s art: asking simple and elegant questions about our imaginary creations, and crafting satisfying and beautiful explanations. There is really nothing else quite like this realm of pure idea; it’s fascinating, it’s fun, and it’s free!
Now where did this idea of mine come from? How did I know to draw that line? How does a painter know where to put his brush? Inspiration, experience, trial and error, dumb luck. That’s the art of it, creating these beautiful little poems of thought, these sonnets of pure reason. There is something so wonderfully transformational about this art form. The relationship between the triangle and the rectangle was a mystery, and then that one little line made it obvious. I couldn’t see, and then all of a sudden I could. Somehow, I was able to create a profound simple beauty out of nothing, and change myself in the process. Isn’t that what art is all about?