Beauty queen’s teenage crush turns into love for math
When I met former beauty queen Joyce Burton-Titular (Bb. Pilipinas Universe 1985) in May during the annual convention of the Philippine Association of Secretaries and Administrative Professionals, she said she regarded me as an honorary beauty queen because I had “reigned supreme in the field of teaching math, the most hated subject next to social studies.”
I was flattered, of course, but I knew she meant it, especially when I told her that mathematics was fun, and she agreed.
“People wonder how math can be, of all things, fun? It’s like saying one can enjoy playing with a T-rex and live to laugh about it! But it is true, numbers are fun!” Joyce said. Actually, Joyce loves not just plain old math, but physics as well.
“Even if people think they are not good in math or science, they can be good if they work at it,” Joyce said. “The basic ability is there, all they need is the incentive.”
In Joyce’s case, the inspiration was her high-school math and physics teacher. This is her story:
Secret admirer
Like most people, my brain goes on low-batt when the math teacher enters the classroom. Sure, I can do basic addition up to division, but anything beyond that is rocket science to me. I was fine until teachers started introducing hints of algebra into our math classes.
For me, algebra is like the granddaddy of math, albeit a bigger, scarier and crankier version. I survived with grades of 75, or maybe 77, in a good quarter.
Until third year high school. I was already a young beauty queen at the time (Miss Young Philippines 1981) when I met our algebra professor Mr. S. I was smitten, not because he was an Adonis, but because he had this involuntary sneer that reminded me of my idol, the rock star Billy Idol.
I decided to study hard so that I would be the apple of Mr. S’ eye. No way was I going to be the helpless coed who needed his help—I was going to show him just how smart I was.
Learning algebra suddenly became my mission in life. Right after school, I would buy merienda (Magnolia milk and French bread); I needed all those carbs for my brain while I sat in my living room poring over the notes that day. I even bought extra books so I could have more equations to solve.
Naturally, I started getting good grades in algebra, first in the high 80s, steadily rising to the high 90s. But I would also practice English by composing love letters to Mr. S, signing them all, “Your secret admirer.”
I was perfectly happy admiring him from afar, as he walked the corridors of our school, sneering all the way.
Topping physics
In fourth year, Mr. S became our physics teacher. Physics is the crazy cousin of algebra and it deals with imaginary concepts like vectors, friction, velocity and acceleration.
But my love for my professor overcame all my fears of the unseen and I continued to push my nose deep into my books and, before I knew it, I was topping my class.
I was exempted from taking the finals in physics. So there I was, sitting next to Mr. S in the faculty room helping him check final exams. I proudly showed him the cool scientific calculator my mom had bought me. Mr. S checked it out, marveling at all the things it could do. Then he returned it to me saying, “I left a message in your calculator for you.”
Excitedly, I immediately looked to see what the message was. But to my dismay, the message said, “Thank you for being a good student and for the letters you sent. You will always be special to me.”
The message floored me.
All I had wanted was to bask in his presence and nothing more. I did not want him to know that he was like the sun and the stars to me.
So when I read the message, I broke down, ran into the bathroom, and cried hard. My 18-year-old self was embarrassed to the core.
Powerful tool
I graduated from high school that year with mixed emotions, but I walked off that stage with one of the most powerful tools in my head—the ability to understand the deeper concepts of math. Although I never entered the world of science, my brain is sharper today because numbers don’t scare me—even if I often pretend that they do.
Years later, when I was in my mid-20s, I bumped into Mr. S at the lobby of a hospital. He was married by then and was bringing food and supplies to his wife and brand-new baby. I was very happy for him.
I was even happier to realize all those old girlish feelings were gone.
Except for the respect—that was still there. I will always be grateful to Mr. S for being the unsuspecting man who gave me a reason to love numbers. Thanks 1 x 10 to the sixth power!
E-mail the author at [email protected].
