I found my vocation
How I realized I would become a math teacher
Many children have a very specific idea of the job they would like to do when then become adults, whether it’s an astronaut, a surgeon, a baker or a fireman. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never said “When I grow up I’m going to be a maths teacher”, and yet today I know that this is the profession for which I was made, just as if it were anchored in my DNA from the moment I was conceived, quite simply a vocation.
Before I became aware of this vocation, I’ve tried to attribute different goals to myself: first, I wanted to be a florist, then an architect. Nothing in common between these two professions, you might say ! And yet there is something that brings them closer together, a skill, a know-how that has always fascinated me, and that’s manual creation.
Even today, I still marvel at those flower magicians who, through combinations that don’t necessarily comply with the laws of symmetry and equitable distribution, transform a simple, disparate collection into a harmonious bouquet worthy of being given as a gift. In the same way, I would have liked to know how to design beautiful buildings from basic and varied materials that, combined together, form an imposing whole.
My love for creativity comes from my grandfather, a skilled cabinetmaker and woodworker who I deeply admired. Despite being forced to follow the family profession, he yearned to study further. I cherish the few pieces of wood I have from him and take pride in saying, “My grandfather made it!” Though I couldn’t follow in his footsteps, I found my own creative activity.
At the dawn of my twenties, I discovered the world of sewing at the instigation of my mother-in-law, who gave me my first machine and allowed me to throw myself passionately into dressmaking. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself and others that it’s possible to live in mathematical abstraction and still be good with your hands, especially your left!
Despite my interest for those creative activities, I realised quite early on that I was made for something else, something more intense, more fascinating, more extreme: mathematics !
Even if I never really expressed a desire to teach this peculiar subject, I could nevertheless have detected a few early signs. First of all, for as long as I can remember, calculus has been fun for me, and demonstrating it is an exciting challenge. In first grade, I set myself the goal of giving the results of the thirty or so additions and subtractions that blackened the blackboard as soon as the teacher put down the chalk, which irritated her somewhat.
At secondary school, the discovery of geometry and the development of proofs opened up even more exciting horizons for me, and by the end of my second year, I was solving all the exercises in the textbook in my spare time for the sheer pleasure of it.
At this stage I already know that some people may regard me as an alien, a rather strange species, an object of curiosity, which, trust me, I’m not!
Of course, there have been decisive encounters along the way, teachers who have inspired me and nurtured my taste for this extraordinary discipline.
Two come spontaneously to mind: Eugénie Cohen and Claude Boy, perfect parity. They left their mark on me with their charisma, even though they were very different from each other. She was a colourful, energetic and passionate character, who epitomised the fact that mathematics can be practised with joy and good humour. He was more imposing, calling us by our surnames and developing a certain complicity. He taught me the art of demonstration, the real sinews of war in our subject.
The idea of helping and being useful is also certainly at the heart of my vocation. In my final year of high school, I gave my first private lessons to a pupil of 14 years old. He was only a few years younger and yet I felt capable of giving him a little help with mathematics. What was for me only a game, posed difficulties to others and it pleased me to try to de-dramatize the situation by some successes gained by explaining the configuration of Thales or factorization in algebra.
I immediately liked the way I related to students in those moments, which were both simple and a little religious. The improvisation you have to deal with when you’re in the support role is also very exciting, and the fact that you don’t know in advance what new task you’ve been given is stimulating because it means you have to be able to adapt immediately. I only discovered quite belatedly how lucky I was to regard this subject as a source of pleasure and entertainment.
Mathematics can be enjoyable for some and difficult for others, but everyone has a talent that they just need to discover and develop. As for me, I had to admit that despite my love for ballet, I didn’t have the necessary skills to become a prima ballerina or virtuoso musician.
Yet, you can have an aptitude for something and still come up against difficulties. That’s what I found out the hard way in the preparatory classes, when I was plunged into a world of demands and self-transcendence at a level that I hadn’t anticipated at all because my family didn’t know anything about this environment.
At that time, I could have become frustrated with my favourite science, because I had to get my hands and brains dirty on endless homework assignments, wipe off a few vexing marks and fail oral kohl exercises, before appreciating its benefits. Then I came into contact with new worlds, concepts that opened up horizons that made me want to explore them: topology, linear algebra, series…
Besides, I have come to appreciate almost every other subject through its mathematical aspect, which is another sign that likely persuaded me that I was made for maths. From French to chemistry to economics, everything is haunted by this science. Here again, I am bound to be seen as a bit of an irritating troublemaker.
In French lessons, I used to get excited about unpacking sentences according to the rules of grammatical analysis, which are in fact akin to theorems; in chemistry, balancing ionic equations used to get on my nerves; in mechanics or electricity, what interested me was, once the fundamental relation of dynamics or the law of knots had been applied, finally arriving at an algebraic equation to have something to grind.
Even in Spanish, a language I fell in love with at first sight, I found that the almost mathematical rigour of its conjugation was just right for me. This brings me right to the heart of what fascinates me so much about this subject: it’s self-sufficient and yet it’s at the service of all the others. He’s a kind of altruistic loner, a homebody hero.
The great Pascal, absolute genius and major philosopher said
“Life is only good for studying and teaching mathematics”. Without being as categorical about making this a universal principle, I would say that this maxim suits me quite well and that this profession has become obvious to me.
It’s the same for all the big decisions I made: getting married, having children, embarking on a property project. None of these questions, which for most people give rise to doubts and intense reflection, have particularly tortured me. It’s what we call in the Christian faith, Trust with a capital C, and I think that when I was baptised I received the maximum dose of it, a bit like Obelix I fell into the pot of potion.
What’s paradoxical, however, is that while I don’t have any problems with life’s essential choices, I have moments of inextricable hesitation when it comes to little choices of everyday life. Anyone who has ever had lunch with me in a restaurant will know how stressful the dessert menu can be.
What despot ever decided that it was absolutely necessary to choose between a chocolate fondant and a lemon meringue pie, or between a panacotta and a fruit crumble? Is there a misconception in the psychology of gourmands, should we have to endure this culinary tragedy. Really, the famous “Choosing is renouncing” is so true in such cases. Every little decision is a mourning ! With no consequence, fortunately.
https://medium.com/@sandra.courosse/the-sandwich-formula-a-french-teacherss-diary-c0923b60e2d5