Holy Relatives, Batman

The following is the text of an email I received from my grandfather today:

"Fifty Years of Math 1959 - 2009 (in the USA )

Last week I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl
took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my
pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding the nickel and 3
pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her
discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters , but she
hailed the manager for help. While he tried to explain the transaction to
her, she stood there and cried. Why do I tell you this? Because of the
evolution in teaching math since the 1950s:

1. Teaching Math In 1950s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5
of the price. What is his profit ?

2. Teaching Math In 1960s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5
of the price, or $80. What is his profit?

3. Teaching Math In 1970s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is
$80. Did he make a profit?

4. Teaching Math In 1980s

A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80
and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Math In 1990s

A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and
inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the
preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20.
What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class
participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels
feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if
you feel like crying, it's ok. )

6. Teaching Math In 2009

Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la
producciones es $80. Cuanto dinero ha hecho?"

...what the hell am I supposed to do about this? Like, not necessarily in an "I feel like I have to take action!" sense. Because frankly, one incredibly depressing conversation with him about his views on the Arizona law in which he repeatedly insisted his views were not at all racist and I was ultimately reduced to responding solely through sarcasm which he completely and utterly missed and led my mother to chastise me severely later on was enough. It's just so incredibly weird to me because in all other respects he's an incredibly progressive guy. He barely blinked an eye when my brother came out (and like the *entire family* except me knew years before he was told), he's got an affectionate-head-shaking attitude towards my father's extreme religious commitment, and he was incredibly supportive of my grandmother starting her own business in the 60s and of women's rights in general. But refer to someone as African-American in front of him and you'll get a 5-minute speech on how annoying that term because "they" only invented it so they could grab up all your tax dollars. Like...how does that happen? Is being in the workforce for 50 years so soul-crushing that it inevitably leads to this kind of blatantly economics-motivated myopia? Are racist views on immigration a little-known side effect of lupus? Beats me, but it's made for some hella awkward moments at family gatherings recently. (And also given rise to an inside joke between me and my siblings that must sound so off-color if you don't realize it's making fun of my grandfather and not minority groups.)

Anyhow. I should definitely be packing or working on my syllabus right now instead of writing this, but whatever. I failed so completely at most of my summer objectives that I feel like I've reallllly got to come through with my resolution to blog/journal more. I wrote 1300 words on a Stickie last night between 1 and 2am alone. Go me!