For as long as I can remember music has been of interest to me, both playing it and listening to it. I was the kid that loved going to music class in elementary school. Taking note of my interest in it, my parents sent me to piano lessons, but, I never was able to really articulate or express what it was I wanted to learn to my music teachers.

I think I was a frustrating student to them due to them being able to see, or hear, the ability I had with it, if I actually ever applied it by practicing as they wanted me to. But. More often, I think I was just bored with whatever it was they had me doing. I remember one expressing her admiration over me noodling around and making up little melodies as she’d write notes for what I should work on in the coming week. She told me she had to have music to play and just didn’t have the ability – or training – to make it up as I was unknowingly doing. To me, it was just a way to occupy my mind while they wrote – whatever it was they wanted me to practice. Most always this had something to do with scales.

The one commonality among them all is that they all stressed the importance of learning scales. “Learn your scales, they’re the key to soloing” they’d say. All of these teachers were more classically trained pianist and could sight-read music – complicated music – and play it perfectly in most cases. Which is pretty impressive. But none of them had a jazz or blues music background that had taught them to improvise. For those of you that have never taken music lessons, scales are one of the more boring things you will be told to practice and learn. Especially as a kid.

Since these teachers didn’t have the ability to improvise themselves, not one of them ever put on a backing track in whatever key I was working on – say – B Minor – and then tell me to start playing notes in the B minor scale in a way I felt matched the music. Had they, I would imagine the lightbulb would have clicked on for me and it would have ignited a fire in me to really start applying myself.  To start learning how to create it myself rather than just reading it off a page as they had been taught to do and do well. Due to not really knowing how to express what I wanted to get out of music, I ended up getting bored with it, quit taking lessons and even dropped out of my high school band.

It wasn’t until I moved to Atlanta and started frequenting the local jazz and blues clubs that I realized what all those teachers meant by scales being the key to soloing. Some of the jazz musicians in these clubs were highly trained with masters degrees in music. They could sight-read printed music and play it perfectly, or they could simply take the written sheet music in front of them as a mere suggestion and then totally do their own thing with it – improvising – and blow your mind.

The blues musicians were even more interesting to me, because some of them would tell you with zero shame that they had no idea how to even read music. But, you could hear the band call out whatever key it was they were about to jam to – the bass player or drummer would establish the general tempo – and then they’d start just playing as a band and make it sound awesome. They appealed to me more than the highly trained jazz musicians because it came across more as them playing what they felt, and not what they knew to be technically correct. They might have known the basics regarding scales, intervals, and chord changes, but little more than that.

So, how does this all fit into math? Well, due to having recently had college algebra permeate my mind, when I absolutely despise it. I’ve worked extremely hard to understand it better. To overcome my anxiety associated with it. Part of this has been me considering how it ties into and compares to other life experiences I’ve had. And I think what I’ve mentioned about scales and music theory above is a great comparison.

College algebra and the various pure math skills you learn prior to taking it are the musical scales of applied math. They are the building blocks of applied math – which is where math is used to create sooooo many things we benefit from daily. Engineers, physicist, scientist – of all different types – know how to apply it and do something great with it. But they must understand the basics of pure math (like college algebra) well before they can do that.

Through all this, the best comparison I’ve come up with is that pure math classes like college algebra, and the professors that teach them, are like the music teachers that want you to endlessly practice scales but make no effort to demonstrate all the cool stuff you can do with them once you’ve mastered them. They assign exhausting amounts of some of the most boring math homework you can imagine, while seeming to have little idea of how to demonstrate its value or teach it in a compelling way that makes you want to learn more about it. To me it’s as if they’re teaching musical scales and nothing else. Completely ignoring all the amazing music created from them in the process.

Another comparison would be me trying to teach photography to students and have them take a real interest in it, by only teaching the basic mechanics of how cameras and light works. But not showing them the beauty of what can be created with both, through showing them photos other photographers have taken, or demonstrating what I’m teaching in class right in front of them. I say this because I have done that very thing before. I feel like I’d be doing every student in front of me a disservice if I didn’t make and effort to do both for them.

Yet, in the world of math education, it seems to be the norm to give little to no context to what is being taught with little concern or thought put into making it more interesting for students like me that really want to get something out of it.

So, now, as an adult, I’m trying to teach myself music theory better, because I regret having not applied myself more as a kid when it comes to music. Similarly, because I hate math so much, I’ve found myself torn between wanting to just learn what I need to learn in order to pass the math classes required for me to get where I’m wanting to go – which will require very little math skills from me once there. But. I don’t want to look back ten or twenty years from now and wish I had dug into it more as I now wish I had done with scales (or music theory) as a kid.

I took my final exam in college algebra yesterday, and no longer have to think of it almost nonstop as I’ve had to do this summer while taking it. But I still am. I’m insanely curious about it at this point. I think I’m more interested in how math people think, and how math works on a higher level than I’ll ever have the desire or patience to learn myself. At the same time, I find it insanely frustrating. After having worked so hard on it this summer, I feel like I know a bunch of different math scales, but have no idea how to create music with them. So, it all still feels like a wasted effort.

And yes, I purposely put minor scales in this shot, because music written in a minor key, as opposed to major keys, is usually the more sad-sounding of the two. And let’s just admit that math is pretty sad y’all. It will hurt your feelings, make you want to curl up in the fetal position in a dark room, and then cry yourself to sleep.

So, that is what this photo is about. I’ve written all this to go along with it to hopefully inspire somebody that reads it to dig in and work harder – whether it be in music or math – no matter how boring it may seem at the time. Because there could be something awesome on the other side of it for you.