I’ve been reading so long and doing basic math for so many years that it seems like second nature to me now. But I remember what it was like before I knew the basics.
I came home disappointed after my first day of kindergarten, telling my parents, “They didn’t teach us how to read.” I don’t know where I got the idea that this would happen, and honestly I can’t even remember if I came into primary school knowing the alphabet. By first grade, though, I had a basic command of addition and subtraction, as well as simple vocabulary words. I was no prodigy, but I like to think I was reasonably well-adjusted academically.
By second grade, most of my classmates and I could do the basics, save for a few stragglers. These were the kids who needed to use their fingers to count silently during math tests, who labored arduously through reading aloud. In retrospect, I wonder if any of these kids got to see a math tutor, or if my friends and I could have helped as reading tutors instead of scoffing. It seems cruel in retrospect, and I wish altruism would’ve come more naturally to me.
In time, I got my comeuppance. I needed tutors as well, for more advanced math courses in both high school and college. Really, though, there wasn’t any shame in it. I learned that at any time, we all could use a helping hand. Some just need it sooner than others, I suppose.
