Funny how a simple phrase written in red can cause flashbacks to 8th grade. We all had that one stickler of a teacher—the one that wouldn’t give any credit on a math test unless you showed your work.
Full disclosure: I am now one of those teachers.
We have our reasons. On homework and tests, it’s a lot easier for kids to copy answers from a classmate—or the back of the textbook—than it is to copy all the steps too. Requiring work “keeps the kids honest,” as they say.
But this is probably the worst reason I require students to show their work. I can think of at least three better ones.
I can tell immediately from an answer whether a student went wrong. However, it’s the student’s work that allows me to pinpoint with certainty where the error occurred. Sometimes it’s very minor—a “brain fart” (as my Algebra teacher used to called them) that doesn’t even merit attention. Sometimes it’s a major misunderstanding that needs further instruction and illustration. To be the best teacher, I have to convince my students to let me watch “over their shoulders,” and this happens when they show their work.
Showing work also helps students grow. When they reason toward answers mentally—without putting pen to paper—any mistake requires starting completely over (Try multiplying 342 x 589 in your head real quick, and you’ll see what I mean). Moreover, tests and homework pages filled with answers only are no help to students later on. Conversely, students who regularly show work are able to learn from and integrate with their past selves.
Ultimately, “Show your work!” is a mathematician’s way of saying “Love thy neighbor!” You see, while mental math may be personally gratifying, written math gratifies others. Students who can express their problem-solving methods and ideas in common numbers, symbols, and words are equipped to teach, collaborate, and share. They can problem-solve with teams. They can produce work that others can build on, learn from, and use.
That red pen on a math test is an invitation out of self-centeredness and into servant-heartedness. It’s a nudge toward finding your place in God’s providence—where real-world problems need neighbor-loving problem-solvers. Math’s great gift is the ability to give yourself—your imperfect creativity, your fumbling solutions, your truth-shaped love—to a world in need.
. . . and by the way, the answer is 201,438.
A Call for Christmas Pics!
Many of you have been so kind to order and use our new Christmas devotional Awaiting the Christ Child this Advent season. (If you’d like a copy, you can find it on Amazon here.)
I’d love to catalog some pictures of families using the devotional. If you feel comfortable, send a group picture of you and your crew using reading Awaiting the Christ Child together to ashbycc1@gmail.com, and we’ll share them in next week’s Post!