As a student of the arts, numbers have never been my forte. Failing maths with 33% on standard grade in when I was 15 was a compelling enough reason for my parents to allow me to drop it, thankfully, as I can barely repeat my own cell phone number when asked to.
To say the least, I have not been anywhere near a maths class for 5 years. So when asked to put myself in a situation I was not accustomed to, I thought it would be enough to attend a second year maths lecture. If I said that nothing made any sense to me it would be an understatement, I
am convinced it was another language. Words like differential equations, diagonal matrices and eigon vectors were used, the board filled with numbers that looked to me like a scene from A Beautiful Mind. One of the students even told me mathematics was in fact the same as philosophy if you think about it, structured arguments and such. “Not true” I said, “philosophy is at least in English!”
In the end it was very clear that I did not belong in this ‘vector vicinity’, even the lecturer pointed me out as being “someone who clearly does not do mathematics and can’t possibly be numerically inclined” All in all it was definitely something new and I can safely say I will never be going back.
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