Two weeks into sophomore year and I may have arrived at my Waterloo.
This must be how a Duke football player feels, except my foe is not a 1-AA team or UConn, who finished its last season with a 1-and-6 record in the Big East conference. No, my romantic struggle is against Math 121, Abstract Algebra.
Back in my glory days in Math 104, when I could row reduce until the cows came home, I never worried about the unforeseen horrors that lurked ahead-the days when the word "linear" would become abstract.
Last year, I was a (math) rock star. My spirit was as unrestrained as a matrix with four columns and just one pivot (for all of you Canadian Studies majors out there: That means I was exceedingly free-spirited).
Alas, that has all come to pass. The weight of the world of advanced math courses has crushed my formerly gentle demeanor. When I open the Abstract Algebra textbook, it is not with a confident hand, but a tremble.
I want out. I will focus on Spanish, my second, or, as of now perhaps, only major. I am sure a job at Goldman Sachs straight out of college would be completely lame. Who wants those work hours, the intense pressure or that exorbitant salary anyway?
OK, so Spanish by itself is definitely not an option that is going to work for me, even if there have been many a Spanish poem written about the triviality of money. Despite this revelation, I remain in limbo. I can jump ship or I can go down with the boat, but, either way, it is looking like I am going to drown. Consequently, it is high time that I go to the T-Reqs website, log into ACES and reevaluate my life.
I could drop Math 121 and be happy again, but that would be equivalent to dropping my major which I am hesitant to do because I will be left with a degree that society (yes, I am just going to go ahead and blame this one on society) says is not sufficient. Unfortunately for me, the drop/add deadline approaches.
As I do whenever I find myself in any dilemma, I think back to the practical, as well as invaluable, problem-solving methods I learned in the Life Skills unit of middle school PE. My current predicament lends itself nicely to the pro/con list approach.
Pro: If I drop the course, I will get my life back.
Con: I was a math major; do I actually have a life to get back to? After all, when problem sets are due Friday, there is not much time to go out to Shooters Thursday night. That, and apparently people are not interested in seeing or discussing my Texas Instruments Voyage 200 calculator with a QWERTY keyboard (they should be though-it can solve equations in terms of pi if necessary!).
Pro: I won't have to take Math 139. I have calculated through advanced mathematical processes that Math 139 is approximately 14.9 percent more difficult than Math 121 and thusly it is advisable to avoid that course and cling to that 14.9 percent of my current sanity level that hangs in the balance.
Con: Well, I've got nothing. For me, Math 121 is Duke at its worst (excluding the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! concert last year).
All things considered, it appears that I have nothing left to do but make like a video ho in a Cash Money Millionaires' music video and drop it like it's hot (note: those who are not Cash Money fans may feel free to replace that allusion with Snoop Dogg). I've logged into ACES and I have the cursor on the little red "X" that will set me free. But I can't do it.
To be honest, in the past two weeks I have grown to relish the suffering that is Math 121. It is like Tuberculosis-sure, it sucks to cough up blood and all that business, but I challenge you to find me a more romantic way to die.
So, dear reader, when you find yourself before the unpassable class, whether it be Math 121, Organic Chemistry or pretty much any other required premed course, forget about less than impressive grades and instead find splendor in your beautiful struggle.
Jordan Rice is a Trinity sophomore. His column runs every other Friday.
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