Asian Sterotype Saturday Morning Post: Good at Maths?

I am in my mid-twenties and I do not think that I will ever find out whether I am good at maths. Did this happen to anyone else?


In a overly generalised, probably not-completely-true account (that I, er, pieced together from hearsay and my ass), Korea and New Zealand have very different approaches to education. In Korea, pre-university education is, in a way, tougher than university education, and in NZ, it is the other way around. Also, education is more punitive in Korea, whereas NZ stresses positive reinforcement. I can only venture that Korea may be this way due to extremely limited placements available in universities in Korea, perhaps due to some combination of poorer economy and overpopulation.

So when I came to NZ as a little girl, I was praised for my mad maths skills. It was slightly more advanced than my new classmates'. I was hardly going to be praised for my English, was I? This baffled and thrilled me. Dadadadadadada Maths GURL! (Please cue in batman theme.) In my previous life, I was terrible at maths, much to my mother's disappointment. Indeed, I thought I was rather good at English, my favourite subject at school: I had even won a couple of prizes in English. But here, this identity turned upside down.

With my teachers' encouragement, I went on to study maths and sciences primarily throughout my highschool education, and only found my passion for words again later.  I realise now, regardless of whether I am actually good at maths or not, I have yet to gain pleasure from maths itself. It is, I am awfully sorry to say, boring. But, like anyone else, I am addicted to praise.

It was hard to find passion in words again, but I was undeniably drawn to it. I always loved reading, and learned, over time, to love reading in English. And now it is the best thing in my life, hands down. I have since gained immeasurable pleasure from reading in English. Reading is the one and true love of my life, sometimes reading books in English that I have previously read in Korean translation for the different taste of it, and othertimes simply reading my favourites over and over again just for the sheer loveliness of it.

But I did very poorly in English, History and Social Sciences at school. I clearly did not seem like the kind of girl who could excel in these subjects, even though, I daresay, I was better than averagely competent. Some people assumed things when they saw my Asian cover. I remember being talked to very loudly very slowly a lot, which infuriated me. Some of my teachers caught on, but others never found the opportunity. And there were the substitute teachers, and every new teacher in every new year was another person who I had to convince. I was, from time to time, also put in ESL program, based on extremely limited tests such as, "How many words can you think of in one minute?", and pulled out of regular English classes. I do not think it was racism per say, or if it was it was positive discrimination: these people were overzealous in trying to help.

With maths and sciences, it was the opposite. It may have been the composite effect of my Asian appearance, glasses and braces. (Ah, that kid, you say.) I was expertly and positively pushed into these fields of study. I did well in them, but I had the distinct benefit of people expecting it from me. And it was a pleasure too, to be good at something, and for people to expect you to be good at it. It was always a positive reinforcement, a cycle of encouragement and achievement. And I am very grateful. I very much doubt I would be equally competent at the limited maths skills I do have if I had stayed in Korea.

And I am, in fact, overall extremely grateful for the education I received in the public school system in NZ. I had so many wonderful teachers in both fields of my education, and very few who gave into their prejudices in the long run. But it made a sort of impression in me, one that was perhaps inaccurate. I am a bit suspicious by nature, so now I am also wondering whether I chose to study arts instead of science as a kind of rebellion.

This is only one version of truth. What do you think? And to fellow immigrants, had something like this ever happened to you? I would love to know.