When I transferred to a Primary school a few miles away, it was a different experience altogether.  For a start I went with a group of friends; there were teachers for every class, so I was age appropriate again; and it was a vibrant community with lots to learn.  ‘Maths’ was a different challenge this time.  Addition was taught in a particular way. You would ‘call yourself’ the first number, then, using your fingers to designate the second number, you would continue counting to get the answer.  For some reason, ‘calling yourself’ a number would be accompanied by a big ‘buffoo’ in the chest – striking yourself, as if that helped with the harder sums! On Fridays we did ‘mental arithmetic’, solving problems in our heads then waving our hands in the air shouting, ‘Me, Teacher!’ or clapping our fingers (that was a new trick I also learned there).

By the time secondary school came along, I was doing pretty well.  But a few changes with teachers when I was fifteen and sixteen (once more, a lack of teachers meant that we were assigned teachers who had no affinity for Maths, in fact, one had come to the island specifically to teach French!) meant that we were pretty much on our own as we prepared for our exams.  I had spent a year in England prior to this, and that teacher, although rather corny (when he taught us logarithms, he promised it was as easy as rolling off a log! A joke he had obviously told every year of his career!), he was effective.  And so some of the harder concepts, I had learned fairly well.

It wasn’t until a relative gave me a book of math puzzles (I think they were magic squares – not the same as Sudoku, but similar in filling in blanks to solve problems) and I had fun solving them, that I realized I enjoyed math!  In fact, it was when I showed it to a friend, and her face was so disgusted, as if, how could anyone think that was fun, that I realized I was unusual! 

When I changed careers after thirty years of working in hospitals, first as a bedside nurse, then in management, and became a nursing instructor, my love of math came in very handy.  Student nurses must be competent in calculating dosages, converting weights and measures, working out IV concentrations and flow rates, and the preparation for all of that incorporates algebra (solving for x).  When teaching students in the Practical nursing program, we had to go right back to square one, basic arithmetic, as some students had either never learned basic calculations, or had severe math phobia.  I also learned that, like singing, some have an ear for it, easily seeing relationships between numbers, while others are completely tone and number deaf!  It took a particular patience to help such students, as you first had to help them get over their fear.  I learned from other students, particularly those who were bad at math, and had to learn not to berate those who just could not see things.  I had to recall and sometimes learn simple rhymes to help them learn.  I had to relearn the basic steps (like in long division), since we didn’t allow calculators in the first semester.  But I loved being able to help people who thought they could not do math, become competent and confident, and of course, safe, when administering medications.  The systems are now designed to try to make this foolproof (‘smart’ IV pumps can do a lot of calculations on their own), but we stressed that our nurses should always be able to check and verify for themselves (what if the ‘smart’ pumps get hacked by an evil power!).

So, my job gave me the excuse to do math problems for fun again, multiplying and dividing fractions (flip it!) which is where I first came across the term ‘reciprocal’.  It came back to me last week, under very different circumstances.  I shared in the sad homegoing ceremony for a much-loved young man (not yet eighteen) who had tragically died in a head-on collision (another driver crossed over into his lane).  A huge church was packed with members of his school; his soccer and baseball teammates; his large extended family and many, many friends.  The parents (he was their only child) were the first to speak after the pastor began the ceremony, and they set the tone.  They were brave, strong, and dignified, models of courage.  Some hours later, I was able to have a few words with the mother, and congratulate her on her strength at such a time.  She assured me that it was thanks to the support she had around her, they gave her the strength.  Then perhaps, I suggested, it was reciprocal.  A strength that was shared, and reflected back to the giver.

Which made me think about how we live with each other in this world.  We should be reciprocating love, and kinship, as we each make our way through life.  Imagine the amplification and magnification if we each looked for the best in each other and reciprocated.  We would in no time overcome the negative, the selfish, the prejudice, the anger, by choosing to reciprocate only the positive, the affirmative, that which will benefit society as a whole. 

Some years ago there was a ‘ska’ tune (written by non-Jamaicans) that sang about people who overcome tremendous adversity in their lives.  In it there is a line which says: ‘I’ve never had to…but I wonder if I could’.  As I watched a family come together and show that, despite the tragedy, they could be thoughtful, and joyful, and hopeful, I saw an example we all could live by. 

This Friday morning, I hope that we can all find a way to be that positive light that can be reciprocated around the world.  I hope that we all can overcome adversity with dignity and joy, finding the beauty in each moment.  And if you want to keep your brain ticking over, do some math! Fractions are your friends!

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.