I can't believe I don't remember what happens when you divide one by a fraction.
I don't know how I could have forgotten solving inequalities, multiplying exponents or pretty much everything about cylinders. I'm currently studying to take the GRE, and I want so badly to go back in time and switch brains with my 12th grade, A+ in calculus self.
Even though the math on the GRE isn't particularly hard, it's enough to stump someone who has only answered academic questions in 15-page, double-spaced essay format for the past three years. Of the many regrets that I have when it comes to college, one of the biggest is that I didn't take more math.
Somewhere down the line, I think girls, myself included, are encouraged to take more liberal-arts tracks in college. Maybe the feminists are right and it's because I played with Barbies when I was little.
When my high school calculus teacher admitted to me that I'd never use a derivative outside of class, I sighed with relief and only took the one required math class in college. But he neglected to mention that even political science students have to take the GRE, particularly the ones who aren't ambitious enough for the LSAT.
The way the test is structured leaves something to be desired. The quantitative section is completely nonapplicable to half the majors in the collegiate world. Doesn't the GRE know that humanities people cannot be expected to answer a question with a right or wrong answer? The answers to my test questions are never "B," and it can be argued later on to make it seem more applicable than it actually was on test day.
The GRE will have none of that.
It doesn't help that Kaplan, test-prep guru and maker of my GRE book, assumes (perhaps rightfully) that its customers have not even the most basic quantitative faculties. Its "problem-solving" strategies include, no joke, "picking numbers." I'm almost positive that Stephen Hawking and Bill Gates don't "pick numbers."
If I'm going up against physics majors from Harvard taking the same test, I need more in my arsenal than dumb luck.
These and other test-taking strategies for dummies are followed up with Kaplan's reassuring explanations that you don't actually have to be able to do math to perform well. In fact, if you did try to do the math, you'll only end up making a giant mess and confusing yourself. Kaplan implies through explanations like this one: "You could set up two equations to solve this problem, but that is too complicated and leaves too much room for error. Instead, try plugging in the answer choices to see which ones fit. A good one to start with is 'C,' because it's in the middle."
I somewhat resent that Kaplan presupposes that seekers of its help will be too stupid to do junior high algebra, but I have to admit that Kaplan is kind of right.
So to avoid the brutal battle of wills with math that will come a few short semesters from now, I highly recommend using those free elective spaces wisely. Sure, "Linear Algebra" doesn't sound like nearly as much fun as "Sex, Gender and Culture." But trust me, you'll only be disappointed, because by "sex," it doesn't actually mean intercourse.
Admittedly, math won't make you sound as impressive or worldly in your endless "The Media and (Insert Oppressed Group Here)" classes. It can, however, make you "that intern" at your office that can divide up the tab at the company lunch without the use of a cell phone calculator, winning you accolades from your co-workers, brownie points with your boss and possibly even a ticket into grad school.
Olga Khazan is a senior in the School of Public Affairs and a social commentary columnist for The Eagle.
