A Brief Look at Phrasing Descriptions of Functions

During a lesson this morning, students were asked to describe this function rule in their own words:

One student came up with this:

We had a brief group discussion about whether this phrase made sense or not. One student said that they might interpret this phrase differently:

Some students agreed, saying that the wording could possibly suggest that the sum was performed first, and then squared after. I asked them to think of a better way to say what was trying to be said, and they came up with this:

Not terribly different, but the order of the words made a lot of difference. The students agreed that this phrasing was clearer than the original.

Admittedly, this was a pretty simple problem, but the students brought up some good points in our conversation around it. It was a good opportunity to explore the nuances of being precise when talking about mathematics. Even one turn of phrase can be misleading; hopefully the students learned a bit about being careful about their wording while still being succinct.

First Day: Gathering Students' Impressions of Math

If there's one thing about teaching I'm not very great at (and there are many such things), it's the first day of school. I always struggle with it. I find myself so busy preparing for the year at large, or getting my classroom ready, or whatever else is demanding my attention, that I never really take the time to plan out a really great first day.

In part, I ended up doing what I described (in tongue-in-cheek fashion) to my students as the "time-honored tradition" of going over the syllabus for the first day of class. At one point, one of my administrators walked in to watch my class for a bit, and all they saw was me going over the syllabus. It was one of those "please just kill me now" moments for me.

I'm being over-dramatic, though. It really wasn't so bad. I'm really looking forward to working with the group of seniors I have this year, and I enjoyed meeting them today. I definitely did a lot of talking, which I never prefer to do, but it'll be different tomorrow.

As part of the first day of class, I had my students fill out a survey about how confident they feel about their math skills, what "doing math" means to them, and what they hope they'll have learned by the end of the course. The first three questions were Likert scale items. Here are some of the numbers:

1. How confident are you in your ability to "do math"?

Completely confident: 11/78
Mostly confident: 31/78
Somewhat confident: 22/78
A little confident: 6/78
Not at all confident: 8/78

2. How confident are you in your ability to talk about math verbally using mathematical reasoning and vocabulary?

Completely confident: 5/78
Mostly confident: 16/78
Somewhat confident: 31/78
A little confident: 14/78
Not at all confident: 12/78

3. How confident are you in your ability to communicate about math in writing?

Completely confident: 7/78
Mostly confident: 14/78
Somewhat confident: 36/78
A little confident: 18/78
Not at all confident: 5/78

Overall, my students this year seem to be carrying a healthy level of confidence in their ability to "do math." (Of course, that depends on their definition of what it means to "do math," which I asked later on.)

There's a considerable split in confidence with my students as far as communicating mathematically. Those are two areas I intend to focus on this year: I want my students to speak and write confidently about mathematics. I want them to be well-versed in the Math Practice Standards by the end of the course.

There were some other short answer questions. There are too many responses to list, so I just picked a few examples that I think give the general view of the students:

4. What do you think it means to "do math?"

"I think it means solving problems with numbers. Doing math is when you work out a math problem. Also taking time to make sure your answer is right."

"To do math is understanding the logic behind a problem. It is the ability to explain problems to others verbally and on paper. Doing math is using more than one technique to find the correct answers."

"I believe that 'doing math' is thinking about a problem critically and using certain formulas to find out the answer to something."

"To do math is to find the answer to a problem that involves numbers, distances, functions, or any form of measurement. A math problem usually has a set number of answers that have to be found through use of mathematical functions or equations. But to do math is to use logic to solve something."

"Doing math means to completely understand it, and for me that comes in 3 parts. Before you can properly plug in numbers to equations, you must first know what those equations mean, and what answer(s) they are trying to achieve. After knowing that, you must know how to correctly plug in the numbers in the equation to get your answer. The final thing that you need to know how to do when 'doing math' is being able to explain what you did, and why. If you are not able to explain how or why you did what you have done, then there is no way to tell if you were right in your thinking."

"'Do math' to me means to solve a puzzle. You need to find all the pieces of the puzzle in order to solve the problem."

"To 'do math' is to have an answer to the problem presented. However, I think that 'doing math' also includes the full understanding of the problem. Also being confident in the answer that you have."

5. What does it mean to be a "good mathematician?"

"Math is easy to learn but hard to master. Given enough time, anyone can solve any problem. Being a good mathematician means being able to solve equations in a quick manner."

"Being a good mathematician means that you can easily identify and solve problems quickly and correctly."

"A good mathematician doesn't give up easily, but keeps trying different methods until the problem can be solved. A good mathematician learns to apply conclusions to the world surrounding him or her."

"A good mathematician is not necessarily someone that finds answers quickly, but rather one that finds answers effectively."

"A good mathematician is someone who can answer the problem that they have set in front of him or her. They can execute the best possible method of doing a problem, in the quickest way possible. They also understand all of the math behind it."

"A good mathematician would use... nothing other than your brain. Wouldn't use a calculator and know every function in math. Be like Albert Einstein."

"Being good at math means being able to remember formulas and solve problems quickly. I also think it means being able to help anyone when they need help during a certain area they don't quite understand."

"To be a good mathematician means you have a brain like a computer. If someone asks you a difficult math question you should be able to answer it in a matter of seconds."

"A good mathematician would know how to recognize a math problem. A good mathematician would actively seek answers to things he/she doesn't understand. Finally a good mathematician knows and studies deeply the subject of math."


6. What do you hope you will have LEARNED in Pre-Calculus by the end of the school year?

"I want to learn how to solve math problems in the quickest ways possible. I also want to explore different forms of calculators and their functions."

"I hope at the end of the year I learn how to solve my problems, without errors or depending on anyone for help."

"Pre-Calculus should teach students more advanced forms of mathematics, past the formulas and equations. Pre-Calc is a dreaded class by some, but can be helpful in certain professions."

"I really want to know how some advanced math could be used to solve everyday problems, so if it is just the same old stuff revisited from last year at least show us how it applies to real life."

"I honestly just hope to learn something new in Pre-Calculus. I want more challenging problems so I can have more math skills."

"A way to understand Calculus without being a mindless zombie to the textbook. Well, understand enough to understand college Calculus."

"I hope that I have learned new formulas and learned them well."

"Hopefully I will be able to pass."

"I hope that I will have learned to explain my reasoning with most of my math problems, thus broadening my horizon on how to be a good teacher."


7. What do you hope you will have EXPERIENCED in Pre-Calculus by the end of the school year?

"I hope to experience an even greater understanding of math as well as enjoy it more. It's currently my favorite subject, so I believe that most, if not all, of my experiences will be positive in this class."

"I hope that I will experience how to speak mathematics in a different kind of language than what I usually use when I explain a solution to a problem."

"Uhm, what am I SUPPOSED to have experienced? I don't really have any hope for anything in this class."

"By the end of the year I hope to have experienced how to deal with stress when it comes to math. Math has always been my worst subject and I get stressed a lot while doing math."

"I hope to experience new things and different ways of solving problems."

"I really don't know. Surprise me."

"I hope to experience what it will be like to use math in the real world, such as: taxes, sales, etc."

"I hope to have experienced the questions that make you sweat, and look back in your notes to figure out. I love puzzles and math and I love a challenge so I want to experience a good challenge in a math course. I want to be able to help others with their homework and also be able to say I had the best Pre-Calc teacher in high school history." (Geez, no pressure there, right?)


While I definitely don't think this first day of school was the greatest, I did end up getting a lot of really thoughtful responses to these questions (again, way too many to list). The attitudes and views of my students towards math definitely cover a wide spectrum this year. I'm really encouraged by the number of students who said they're craving challenge. I love it. I hope I can deliver.

We're starting a group task by the end of the week. I'm going to try grouping students so that each group member has a certain level of confidence in talking about math, writing about math, or just doing math. I may also group them by how they responded to the written questions. We'll see how it goes.

It will be interesting to see how the students answer these questions in May. I hope that more of them will see "doing math" in terms of problem-solving, constructing arguments, modeling, looking for structure, and so on.

And so a new school year begins. Allons-y!

Twosday Things: Ingenious Responses. Also Fish.

Time again for Twosday Things!

Thing #1:
The other day, I stepped out of my classroom for a moment. When I came back, one of my students had drawn this on the board:

I took one look and figured, "what the hell, I'll tweet it." So I did:

One reply stated that this was probably a reference to Fairly Oddparents, which given the age of my current students wouldn't surprise me.

However, the prize for Most Brilliantly Mathematical Response definitely went to Gregory Taylor (@mathtans on Twitter):

I feel like if I'd gotten that kind of response from a student, I'd have just given them an A for the semester right then and there. (Okay, maybe not. But I'd be impressed.)


Thing #2:
One thing I've noticed about my teaching practice this year is that I've become more open-minded with how students respond to questions and problems.

Here's an example of what I mean. One of my students came to me today with the following solution to a problem:

Two disclaimers: (1) The student obviously took some "mathematical liberties" when drawing this diagram. (2) The student did much of their work without a calculator, but explained to me in person what was done: he used the distance formula to calculate the length of each side, then used the Pythagorean Theorem to see whether the three sides formed the sides of a right triangle.

Out of context, this seems like a perfectly reasonable way to solve to problem.

However, this actually came from a problem set focused on parallel and perpendicular lines. The solution path I was "looking for" was to calculate the slope between each pair of vertices and determine if there were two sides that were perpendicular to each other.

What's my point here?

A year or two ago, this is probably how I would have responded to the student's work: "Um... well, that's ONE way to solve it I guess, but I was really looking for [insert what I was looking for]."

But today, this is how I responded: "Whoa, that's brilliant! I hadn't actually thought of solving the problem that way, but that makes a lot of sense! This is genius!" And I followed that up with an explanation of how most other students were solving the problem by calculating slopes as I described above; but the student's mathematical reasoning was both valid and awesome.

This is a great example of how I've changed as a teacher this year. I've always been okay with students coming up with different solution paths to problems; however, I often tried to steer them toward particular solution paths, even if what my students were doing was perfectly reasonable.

Insisting on particular solutions paths isn't, in and of itself, a bad thing. There are situations where it's good to train students on solving a problem a particular way; doing so adds to their "mathematical toolbox," equipping them with a variety of skills for solving problems.

But there are times, I think, when we as math teachers need to be okay with students solving problems in unexpected ways. I think this instance was one of those times. This was a student who had been struggling with math at times this year, but today he came to me with a brilliant solution that I wasn't expecting to see. That deserved praise and recognition.

As I said, a year or two ago, I would have been "just okay" with the method my student used to solve the problem, but not all that enthusiastic because he hadn't done it the way I was trying to teach.

I shudder to think that, just a year or two ago, I wouldn't have embraced his work as enthusiastically as I did today. If I had responded with, "Well, that's one way to do it, but...", I probably would have done harm to the student's mathematical confidence. He applied previously-learned mathematical knowledge to a different type of problem. How could I have any problem with that?

Twosday Things: Hearts, Stars, Messy Numbers

Time again for Twosday Things!

Taking a cue from last Tuesday's post, I'll discuss two teaching-related things (however big or small) that happened over the past week. I'm trying to post about two things every Tuesday throughout the school year (hence the title, "Twosday Things"). This makes the second week in a row; so far, so good.

Thing #1:
Something I've noticed that happens A LOT in my class:

• Student is working through a (typically algebraic) problem.
• Student gets a non-integer answer (i.e. a "decimal answer").
• Student immediately assumes they must be wrong. Often accompanied by asking the teacher, "am I supposed to get a decimal for my answer?"

This is a near-daily occurrence in my class, despite my frequent insistence that "decimals are numbers, too!" ("Fractions are numbers, too!" is similarly used often.) I cannot even count the number of times this happens in a school year.

How does this happen? How do our students reach the point where they automatically assume that "decimal answers" must be wrong? How do we let them get to high school with this assumption cemented into their mathematical psyche?

Yesterday, I took this question to my Twitter feed:

Some super-awesome math-types from the Twittersphere chimed in with their thoughts on the topic:

"Give them messiness." I love that. I feel like our students need more practice and earlier exposure to "messy numbers," because real-world math is messy and complex. Students need to learn that decimals, fractions, irrationals, etc. are all numbers, too.

At the same time, I don't think it's inherently bad that students question their answers every time they get something "messy." Sometimes (often, in fact), their answer actually is the result of a mathematical mistake, and they need to be able to figure out where the mistake was made.

I can see some potentially good habits here: stopping to think about whether the answer makes sense in the context of the problem; double-checking work for mathematical mistakes; and so forth. I just don't think that "getting a messy answer" should be the sole reason a student thinks they did something wrong. If anything, students should be trained to question "messy" answers and "clean" answers. Students should be in the habit of doubling back and re-checking their work to make sure their reasoning makes sense.

Maybe the mistrust in "messy" numbers can be a good thing; but if it is, it needs to be applied to all numbers. Equal opportunity, darn it!


Thing #2:
Today in class, I had a few students who asked for help with the following problem:

We discussed the fact that the problem mentioned "two numbers." We had no idea what those two numbers were, offhand. But, we had enough information to be able to set up a couple of equations. We just needed to pick two variables to represent the numbers first.

"We can call these two numbers anything we want," I said. "We can call them x and y. We can call them a and b, or c and d. We could even call them stuff like, 'dollar sign' and smiley face.' What do you want to call these two numbers?"

One of my students said, "heart and star."

Math, learning, and hilarity ensued:

I had a terrible time keeping a straight face, especially when I said things like, "so what expression do we plug in for heart?" or "yep, we have to simplify by combining our star terms, so star plus eight equals twenty-four," or "there we go, star equals sixteen and heart equals forty."

It was a fun little way to talk about the concept of representing unknown values with variables. Why settle for boring old x and y when you can have a bit of fun?

Two Things From a Tuesday

Or maybe I should title this post "Twosday Things." Because I like portmanteaus.

Thing #1:
Today, I was talking one-on-one with a student about functions. We were talking about the relationship between domain and range, and how to tell if two sets of values make up the domain and range of a function. We talked about how values in the domain are each assigned to one and only one value in the range by the function. I chimed in with the "mailbox analogy" to further explain the relationship: say you're mailing a bunch of letters. The stack of letters is like the domain, and the houses the letters are being mailed to are like the range. You can mail multiple letters to the same house, but you can't mail the same letter to multiple houses. "So you can't mail the same letter to Chicago, New York, and San Francisco simultaneously," I said to the student.

"Unless it's e-mail," the student replied.

HOLY CRAP. That was a really, really good point! I was utterly stunned that I hadn't thought of that. I guess the analogy kind of breaks down in that regard if you throw e-mail into the mix. I'm still pretty sure I got my point across, but it does have me thinking about the analogy I'm using to describe how functions work. Will this be an outdated analogy in the near future?

Either way, I was super-impressed by my student today.


Thing #2:
Some of my students are currently working on compound inequalities. Below is a piece of student work that I found interesting:

The left side of the compound inequality vanished! I've actually been seeing this happen with several students in my class; every time they get one side of a compound inequality equal to zero, they omit it in the rest of their work.

I've been wondering where this is coming from. I imagine it might have something to do with the fact that students are sometimes taught about the existence of an "implied" zero that isn't actually shown. (For example, what is the slope of the line y = 2? There's no x-term, but there's an implied "0x" in the equation; thus, y = 0x + 2, and the line has a slope of 0.)

Maybe it's coming from somewhere else. I don't think it's anything I've done, but I could be wrong.

Anyway, that's two things from a Tuesday. Maybe I'll try to do this weekly, so I'm blogging more often.

Multiple Solutions (A follow-up to "When Is the Right Answer the Right Answer?")

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote this post about how I wanted my students to determine equations of lines, given certain information. The broader point, I think, was realizing that my students had more than one option for determining answers to the problems they were working on, and being okay with that. (Why wouldn't I be?)

I had another "when is the right answer the right answer?" moment in class yesterday that I thought was really super-cool.

Two students were working together on the same problem. They came up with what they thought were different answers, so they were wondering who was correct. Their work is shown below:

So both students used point-slope form for their equations, and came up with two answers that looked different. This peculiarity made them wonder who was right and who was wrong. (Which, in turn, makes me realize that I still have a lot of work to do with teaching them about making sense versus being right.) They called me over to ask me who had the correct equation.

I must have been really busy at that moment and not really thinking, because I looked at their answers and said, "actually, you're both right." Not that I was wrong in saying so; but I regret that I didn't recognize the teachable moment that had presented itself. This would have been a great opportunity to ask each of them what they thought about their equations, how they came up with them, why they thought their answers made sense, why the other person got something different, and whether or not it made a difference which point they used for point-slope form. Still, it was a really cool moment: two students have a spirited debate over who had the "right" equation, when really they were both right. It was my favorite moment of class from yesterday.

Fortunately, the same thing happened today, on the same problem, with the same work as shown above, between a different pair of students. Grateful for a second chance, I was able to stop and facilitate an awesome math discussion between the two of them.

One student was adamant that the "first" point, (-4, 3), had to be plugged in for point-slope form instead of the "second" point, "because they're X₁ and Y₁," she reasoned. She said this because she had labeled the coordinates as such when using the slope formula to determine the slope:

And point-slope form was written on the board as Y - Y₁ = (X - X₁). So I could see where she was coming from.

I asked her, "so, how would you label these points if the order was swapped?" In other words, what if the problem listed the points "(6, 1) and (-4, 3)" instead of the order they were given? She responded that she would have labeled (6, 1) as (X₁, Y₁) and (-4, 3) as (X₂, Y₂).

My next question was, "So would that change things? Would you get a different slope, for instance?" The student initially thought that yes, she would get a different slope. The other student, who was working with her, said that the slope should be the same. I had both of them determine the slope of the line with the different designations for the coordinates; naturally, the slopes turned out to be the same as in their original work.

I asked, "how did changing the order of the points affect the slope?" The student replied that the order of the points didn't change the slope at all. "Cool," I said. "So what about the two different equations you guys came up with? What difference does choosing one point over the other [when plugging a point into point-slope form] make?" The first student still wasn't quite convinced that it didn't matter what point she chose; her partner said it didn't matter what point was chosen for the point-slope form of the equation.

We decided to have each of them solve their equations for y, so they'd both be in slope-intercept form. When they did so, they came up with the same equation, and the first student was finally convinced that it didn't matter which of the two points she chose. Both students were convinced that they'd both determined correct equations for the line described in the problem. "Why doesn't it matter which point you choose?" I asked. The first student wasn't quite sure. The second student guessed, "because both points are on the same line?" I replied, "that sounds like it makes sense."

I love when students find different (yet equally valid) solutions to problems like this. It makes for some great discussion. I need to keep myself aware that it's more important to ask my students to make sense of their work instead of telling them that they're right; I missed out on having a great conversation with two students yesterday, but I'm glad I had another chance at it today.

When Is the Right Answer the Right Answer?

This week, my students have been working on determining equations of a line based on properties of parallel and perpendicular lines (GRE 604 from the ACT College Readiness Standards for Mathematics), which involves problems like this one:

Several concepts popped up throughout the week while working on this skill: determining slope, slope-intercept form, point-slope form, and the relationships of slopes between lines that are either parallel or perpendicular to each other.

Throughout the week, I have been insisting that my students give their solutions to these problems in slope-intercept form, as shown in this student's work:

(There are some other things going on here that would also be interesting to talk about, but that will have to wait for another day.) 

Perfectly reasonable solution method, isn't it? Put the original line equation in slope-intercept form, determine the slope, use point-slope form to get the equation of the parallel line, and then solve for y to put that equation in slope-intercept form.

This morning, I found myself wondering why I was insisting on having my students put their answer in slope-intercept form.

Is it really necessary? I mean, couldn't the student have just stopped at point-slope form and still been correct? I mean, plug a few things into Desmos and it's hard to argue otherwise:

I've been thinking about this and struggling with this all morning. The focus of this particular ACT skill isn't necessarily for students to determine the equation of line and put it in slope-intercept form; the skill is just to determine the equation of a line based on properties of parallel and perpendicular lines.

In the problem above, the student is given the equation of a line and a point on another line that is parallel. The student knew to look for the slope of the original line, knowing that the parallel line they were looking for would have the same slope. After determining the slope, the student created the equation of the parallel line using point-slope form.

Should it stop there? After all, the student correctly applied the properties of parallel lines and determined a correct equation. That's what the skill is all about, right? Why was I insisting that the student put their answer in slope-intercept form? I'm not sure it's necessary, and I think it also creates a situation where the student can make a simple algebra mistake and come up with an equation that is no longer "correct." On the other hand, expecting students to be able to put the equation in slope-intercept form isn't all that unreasonable, is it? After all, the student did just that with the equation of the original line in the problem, in order to determine the slope of the parallel line. Is that a good enough reason to insist on it, though?

This is just one specific case. I know this isn't the only instance in mathematics where something like this happens. When is the right answer the right answer?

Coffee Spills! Sales Sheets! Math!

I like to think I have good taste in music. When I was a kid, I played a lot of video games. Video games are super fun. The best part about video games, arguably, is the music. I will always hold the opinion that the Super Nintendo era gave us some of the best video game tunes in the history of ever. EVER.

So, these days I listen to a lot of video game music (VGM) cover bands. One of my current favorites is a recently-formed act, The Returners. They're based in Austin, TX and they totally rock.

But they don't totally rock just because of their music. They totally rock because the band's founder, Lauren Liebowitz, recently helped me out with putting together a math task that involved coffee spills and band shirts.


Background
Over the past couple of years, the math team at my school worked together to put a four-year curriculum in place that's closely aligned to the ACT college readiness standards in mathematics. The skill that my students are currently working on is XEI 602:

"Write expressions, equations, and inequalities for common algebra settings."

We wrote a ton of problems related to each skill. For this particular skill, we wrote problems such as the following:

(And actually, that should be 46 cakes, not 44. Typo. Oops.)

To supplement this skill, I thought of a different way to present this type of problem. Instead of spelling out the necessary mathematical information in a word problem, I wanted to present a more realistic situation and have the students work a little bit more to dig up the mathematics of what was happening.

So I thought of the following scenario: Suppose you were selling a few different items and keeping track of your sales on a sheet, such as this:

And then, suppose you accidentally spilled coffee all over it:

Some of the information is lost! How could we figure out the information that was ruined by the coffee spill? (Obviously, there isn't enough mathematical information in the above example, which is purely for show. But given the right info, this becomes a challenging math task. Also, as it turns out, it's pretty challenging to simulate a coffee spill. And ink is pretty resilient these days.)


The Task
I spent some time thinking about what product(s) to include on the sales sheet that I was going to spill coffee on. One night, I was folding laundry and I came across my official "The Returners" t-shirt. My brain was like, "BAM. T-shirts!"

I messaged Lauren to pretty much say, "Hey, I'm using your band in a math problem!" And she basically replied, "Cool! Can I do anything to help?" And actually involving her hadn't really occurred to me, but she was totally willing to assist and I couldn't turn that chance down.

I put together a "sales sheet" listing three different types of Returners shirts, with information about prices and inventory. Then I spilled coffee on it:

Lauren included the following e-mail, and also sent along a picture of a few of her band's shirts (rolled up neatly into little shirt burritos):

Armed with the above information, my students were set to the task of helping Lauren figure out how many shirts were sold at her most recent show.


How The Task Went
I put the students in groups of three for this task. They were each given a copy of the e-mail, the ruined sales sheet, and the photo of the remaining shirts. I also gave them a worksheet with a few questions that each group member needed to contribute to.

My first period jumped into this task right away. There were a lot of good conversations going on at the start: they were looking through the documents, figuring out what information was important, and talking about how they were going to represent each type of shirt as variables in equations.

There was debate over how to represent "blue" versus "black," since both started with the same letter. Some students decided to use b for one and bl for another, but soon found that there was still no distinction (since both colors start with the letters bl). One student finally suggested using k for black, which certainly helped things.

Students were able to figure out important bits and pieces of information needed to set up an equation to represent the total sales: from the sales sheet, they found the total money made and the cost of each shirt. From the picture, they were able to determine that there were 5 blue shirts and 3 gray shirts that went unsold from the original inventory.

Where we ran into trouble was figuring out how to actually set up equations representing the total sales. Groups during my first period class initially set up their equation as:

5.25k + 4.75b + 4.50g = 397.25

where k represents black shirts, b represents blue shirts, and g represents gray shirts. The above equation was close, but incorrect; students from my first period continued working through the problem using this equation and ended up getting answers that didn't make sense in the context of the problem (e.g. they got non-integer values when they solved for k, b, and g).

They were on the right track, but they didn't account for the fact that a few shirts went unsold; this was kind of the "tricky" part of the task and led to a lot of frustration among my first period students. I let them have some time to try and sort things out on their own and dropped a few hints to try and point them in the right direction. Eventually, I saw it was going to be best to stop and have a quick whole-class discussion about the unsold shirts.

We talked about thinking of k, b, and g as the number of shirts that were originally in the inventory as opposed to the number of shirts that were sold. I asked the students to look through their documents again and tell me what they could find about the number of shirts that were sold and the number of shirts that were still left. We talked about what expressions we should write to represent the number of shirts that were sold. Eventually, we came up with the following:

• The black shirts were sold out, so k black shirts were sold.
• There were 5 blue shirts remaining, so b - 5 blue shirts were sold.
• There were 3 gray shirts remaining, so g - 3 gray shirts were sold.

The students adjusted their equations to reflect an accurate model of the total sales:

After my first period class, I adjusted my lesson plan so that we talked about the correct expressions for shirts sold toward the beginning of the activity. This adjustment made things go more smoothly in my other three classes. Although, in my second period class, students were having trouble with question #2, which required them to re-write their equation from question #1 in terms of one variable. We stopped to have another conversation about what to do.

I asked students to re-read their e-mails and to look specifically for relationships between the different types of shirts and how many of each kind there were. The students noticed the following info:

• There were twice as many black shirts as either the blue or gray shirts.
• The number of blue shirts was the same as the number of gray shirts.

From here, we talked about how to use this information to write a few small equations that would help us with question #2. The students came up with the following equations:

Once we were armed with these equations, we were able to go back to our total sales equation from question #1 and use substitution to re-write it in terms of one variable:

I made another adjustment to my lesson plan for my third and fourth period classes to include a discussion about representing these relationships toward the beginning of the task as well. With this guidance, students were able to successfully determine how many shirts had been sold:

What I Would Change Next Time
This task was given to the students while we were in the middle of our mini-unit on writing equations and expressions based on information from word problems. After doing this task and reflecting on how things went, I think this task has a lot of merit as one of two things:

1. A guided task at the beginning of, or during, the unit, with appropriate scaffolding included; or
2. A performance task at the end of the unit.

My students were resilient and we were able to have a lot of good mathematical conversations during this task. I could also tell there was frustration stemming from confusion about what to do at each problem. I think this might have been the result of not yet having enough practice with the skill, and I also think I didn't provide an appropriate amount of scaffolding, originally. In my later classes, I made adjustments and discussed some important aspects of the problem at the beginning of the task; this seemed to help students successfully solve the problem.

In the future, I would probably embed further scaffolding and questions into this activity. For instance, I would probably ask the students:

• What is the problem you are being asked to solve? What information are you supposed to determine?
• Choose a variable to represent each different type of shirt. Write expressions to represent the amount of each shirt that was sold.
• From the e-mail, what information can you determine about the number of shirts that Lauren originally had? Write equations that represent these relationships.

By having the students doing this work first, the rest of the task would probably go more smoothly as is.

I might also change the prices and the types of merchandise on the sales sheet in the future; a few students looked at the prices and thought, "why didn't they just sell shirts for $5? It'd be easier to make change." In reality, the shirt prices are actually more like that. I made each shirt a different price; otherwise, the task would have been pretty easy to solve. Next time, I'd probably include other merchandise such as CDs, buttons, etc. and let the prices reflect something that would actually be charged at a show.

Overall, I was pleased with this task. I certainly learned a lot, and I hope to come up with even better tasks in the future and I continue trying to figure out how to do PrBL!

Week 1: Why My First Day Activity Didn't Go At All As I Had Hoped (and Why That's Awesome)

Phew, the first week has come and gone and I found myself utterly exhausted on Friday. Thank goodness for the holiday weekend; I've been able to get more sleep in the past 2-3 days than I have in quite a while.

As part of the kickoff to our school year, I had my seniors work on an "opening day" activity that I lovingly borrowed/blatantly stole from Nadji (who blogs at Physix Coolisms!) that involves grids, writing your name (a lot), and using that data to generalize a pattern.

The activity I snagged is called "What Is Math?" and is described by Nadji from 4:25 to 12:30 of this First Day of School Activities presentation from Global Math Dept. I won't re-post the entire activity here, but basically the aim of the activity is to challenge students' perceptions of what it means to do math.


The Activity
The first part of the activity has students answer the following questions:

1. What is math? What does it mean to you?
2. List 7 mathematical words or phrases that come to mind when doing math.

Often, students respond to these questions with the mindset that "doing math" means working with numbers and calculations and equations.

After answering these questions, students then fill out several square grids by writing the letters of their name over and over again.

After doing that, the students shade the first letter of their first name and then fill out a table to record the patterns that show up.

From there, students are asked to make predictions about the patterns, such as:

• Predict what pattern would appear in a 41x41 grid.
• Predict how the patterns would be affected if the second letter of each name was shaded instead.
• Predict how the patterns would be affected if students started by writing their name in the bottom right corner and filling out the grid backwards.

And so on.

At the end of the activity, students are asked the beginning two questions again; by this point, the hope is that students will start to see that math is much more than just working with numbers and calculations and equations. There is much more to mathematics: finding patterns, making generalizations, predicting unknown events, thinking critically, etc.


How Things Went:
Before I get into this, one side (yes, side, not snide) comment: I had my students fill out grids up to 10x10. If I do this activity again, I might have them go up to 12x12. I have many students with names that are 6, 7, or 8 letters long, and their patterns don't really start to become apparent until the grids get bigger. As I checked in on students and looked through the tables they were filling out, it seemed to me that the "pattern of the patterns" would be more apparent if they had more data. Something to think about for next time.

At any rate, student responses to the opening two questions went pretty much as I expected. Many students came up with responses like "math is the study of numbers," or "math is the tool of Satan," and so forth. The lists of 7 mathematical terms often included "addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, square root, equation, numbers," and the like.

I decided to collect answers to the first two questions via Socrative, so I could quickly generate a bunch of text and then dump them into a Wordle. I thought it would be cool to generate a visual snapshot of student responses from before and after the activity so I could compare.

Here is the "before" Wordle:

As you can see, there's a great deal of "number-ish, calculation-y" stuff. I expected to see this.

Based on what I was seeing from the students as they were working on the activity and the conversations they were having (with each other and with me), I expected to see a dramatically different Wordle from the post-activity responses. After all, they were noticing patterns, making predictions about how patterns would look in grids that were far larger than they had time to fill out, and working together to describe a "rule" for making such a prediction. They weren't really doing "stuff with numbers."

So, here's how the post-activity Wordle turned out:

So uh... um... not really all that different. I mean, "patterns" showed up a lot more in this one, but there was still a bunch of "number-ish, calculation-y" stuff.

I'll admit, at first I was a little bummed that I seemingly hadn't changed very many minds or shifted very many paradigms after doing this activity.

But then I thought about it. And I became okay with it.

In fact, it's actually pretty awesome that I didn't change their minds so easily, and here's why:

This becomes a new challenge for me. This allows me to set a goal for myself. I want my students, by the end of the year, to understand that there's a lot more to mathematics than just crunching numbers and solving numerical problems.

Math is recognizing patterns and trends. Math is making use of those recognitions to make predictions. Math is critical thinking.

Math is art. Math is visual, spatial, tangible.

Math is freaking everywhere and freaking awesome.

I don't get to spend just one day trying to convince my students of this. I get to spend an entire year trying to convince my students how super-cool math is. I have a lot of convincing to do, but that's okay with me. I want to earn it.

That's one thing I learned from doing this activity. That's one thing this activity has given to me: a theme for this year: Math is freaking everywhere and freaking awesome.

It's going to be a great year.

Reflections From #precalcchat: Pre-Calculus Sequencing

I love Twitter chats with other teachers. It's a great way to make connections. It's a great way to get insight, ideas, and resources. It's also a fantastic opportunity to reflect on your own practice and to improve what you're doing in the classroom.

The Global Math Department hosts several weekly Twitter chats for math teachers on a variety of topics. Since I teach Pre-Calculus, I dropped in on the first #precalcchat of the school year last week; thanks to Mimi (I Hope This Old Train Breaks Down...) and Taoufik Nadji for hosting. Couldn't spend much time, but the topic of conversation captured my interest:

I loved that thought. It made me stop and think about how I sequence my Pre-Calculus course and why.

I start with Graphing and Functions first. To me, it's important for students to understand the basics of interpreting graphs of functions and becoming fluent with moving between different representations of a function (graphs, tables, equations). I find this to be a particularly vital theme that I want to drive home with my students, especially those who will be going on to AP Calculus or Calculus I/II in college.

Next, I follow a pretty standard sequence of Quadratics/Polynomials, Rational Functions, Exponential Functions, Logarithmic Functions, Trigonometric Functions, and Analytical Trigonometry. Again, I focus on these topics in particular to prepare my students for success in an AP Calculus course. Other topics such as Analytical Geometry, Series & Sequences, Polar Systems of Coordinates, Conics, etc. come afterward as time allows.

The other chatters all had brilliant things to say, so naturally I felt like I'm probably doing everything wrong (or maybe just some things wrong, and other things not-as-wrong).

When discussing how Pre-Calculus can seem like a re-teaching of Algebra II to students, Tina C (Drawing On Math) mentioned that her school starts with Trigonometry for that exact reason.

This was an interesting idea to quite a few of us: do Trig first semester, slowly build up conceptual understanding of the unit circle, graphing, transformations, identities, etc. Then, move into the other different functions second semester.

The more I think about doing Trig first, the more appealing it seems to me. I've always found that I never seem to have enough time to really properly teach Trig and I need to either rush a few things or cut some other stuff out. I think I probably always had the notion that Trig is "more difficult," and somehow it made sense to put the "harder stuff" at the end of the year. (That's excellent reasoning, isn't it?)

But really though, Trig is a bit of a stand-alone topic. It could go anywhere in the course sequence. There are certainly some underlying concepts that can be applied to other functions: graphing, transformations, moving fluently between representations, and so on. I usually think of these concepts as having to be taught and mastered before doing Trig, as if Trig is the "CHALLENGE MODE" of working with functions in Pre-Calculus.

Who's to say we can't use Trig to teach these concepts instead? Maybe my students would have greater success with Trig if I did it at the beginning of the year, built the concepts slowly with appropriate scaffolding, while still equipping students to be successful in working with other functions. I may have to try it out one of these years. (I already have this year mapped out -- maybe next year?)

Anyway, some great food for thought.

I'm looking forward to more of these chats this school year, and hopefully I'll find time to continue blogging & reflecting on what I take away from them.

Mathspotting (Because Math Hides In Plain Sight Like a Ninja)

One of the coolest things about doing math for a living is having a higher sensitivity to its presence in the world during day-to-day activities. For me, this seems to be particularly true right before the school year when my brain is constantly in planning mode. So I'm, like, on HIGH MATH ALERT.

I went to the beach with my dog yesterday morning, and noticed several sets of tire tracks in the sand. There are many different types of tire patterns, of course, but this particular set caught my eye (so I took a photo and tweeted it):

Of course, I'm not completely sure that these are exactly trig patterns, but... but... close enough, right? RIGHT?

In any case, it had me wondering about the application (if there actually is any) of periodic functions in designing certain types of tire treads. I don't really know anything about how tires are designed, so take it for what it's worth. But it's cool to think about; I mean, if I could legitimately tell a student that trigonometry is what keeps them from hydroplaning in a downpour, that would be awesome. I just don't know if that's actually true or not. *shrug*

In the evening, my wife and I were walking our dog and made a quick stop at the grocery store. As I was waiting outside with the dog, I found myself staring at this sign in front of me and wondering mathy things:

I actually look at signs like this and think about symmetry problems all the time. Like, probably an unhealthy amount. If you see me staring at a sign, chances are I'm probably thinking about symmetry. I try not to do it while driving.

Anyway, when I posted this on Twitter, one of the comments I got was: "What kind of symmetry? Even or odd?" Which is exactly the kind of question I was hoping to see. If I posed this problem to my students (and I may very well do that), I would love for this issue to arise. The "N"s certainly have odd symmetry, and I never did specify any particular type of symmetry. So, we'd have to include the "N"s in our answer, yes?

So those are just a couple of math nuggets that I spotted yesterday. Maybe I should post more mathy pictures on Twitter and start hashtagging them with #mathspotting or something. Feel free to join in!

"When Am I Ever Going to Use This?" ...Sometimes I Don't Know the Answer

For some reason, the question of "when am I ever going to use this in real life?" seems to pop up at a disproportionately higher rate in math class than in any other subject. I'm willing to bet that's the case.

Do I have any scholarly research or statistics to back up this claim? No.

But I did go to Google and type in the phrase, "when am I ever," to see what popped up:

See? Algebra and Calculus! Obvious proof that this question is asked more in math class than in any other class! And if you aren't convinced by this, then... uh... um... well, then you probably think critically about your info sources and have good judgment.

At any rate, the new school year is around the corner. I've enjoyed the time away from the classroom and have spent many hours mapping curriculum, trying to keep up with the happenings in the MTBoS and preparing some new tasks to try out this year.

As I was reflecting on my first four years of teaching and looking ahead to year five, I kept thinking about what I'm going to do when, inevitably, the question is asked:

"When am I ever going to use this kind of math in real life?"

This question nearly always evokes some kind of emotional reaction from me. One of two types, in fact:

(1) UNADULTERATED, ABSOLUTE JOY, because I have an answer to the question that is totally satisfactory, underscores the relevance of the current mathematical topic, lets me talk about math (which is super-cool because I love talking about math) and helps the kid to see just how motherfreaking awesome math is,

or

(2) MURDEROUS RAGE that someone, who's half my age, who hasn't even learned as much math as I've forgotten, would have the impudence to ask me that question. Not just to ask me that question, but to ask me that question when I have no idea whatsoever how to answer in a way that isn't complete bullcrap.

Okay, I don't actually get mad at students for asking me that question. Or any question. Not ever. I like having curious students. And a job.

I do try my best to be prepared to answer the question of "when am I going to use this?" for any mathematical topic that comes up in my classroom. But sometimes I do feel annoyed when I don't really have a good answer. Not annoyed at the student (not much, anyway), but more at myself for not being prepared with a brilliant, insightful response. After all, I'm the math teacher, right? I should know, in great detail, when the hell someone would ever use an inverse tangent function when they get out into the real world. I should be able to spell out the exact situation in which one would need to know everything there is to know about the latus rectum. (Tee-hee.)

But I don't always know the answer. When that happens -- depending on my mood/how busy I am/what's happening in class/how many cups of coffee I've consumed in the past five minutes -- I tend to go with one of the following responses (I don't recommend using any of these):

• "That's a great question." *flees without saying another word*
• "I can't tell you that; it would ruin the surprise!"
• "'Real life?' Math is real life, son."
• "You know, I find that the best answers in life are the ones we find for ourselves."
• "What're you talking about? I use it all the time!" ("But you're a math teacher," the student replies. "Yep, that's why I use it all the time!" I reply back.)
• "Uh, come see me after class and I'll be happy to talk to you more about your question." (Nobody has ever taken me up on this.)

I feel terrible when I don't have an answer for that question right away. There are times when it seems like it would be easiest just to say, "you know, there's a pretty good chance that you're not actually going to use this; but hey, gotta know it to pass, right?"

I mean, I've actually uttered those words to a student once or twice. I'm not proud of it. At the time, I felt like I was just being straight with the kid(s) who asked. I guess I figured that kids appreciate honesty and have a pretty good nose for B.S. But when I think about it, I realize that what I really did was cheat those students out of a great learning opportunity. I cheated myself as well.

I'm a math teacher, yes, but I'm also a math learner. A lifelong math learner. I shouldn't be ashamed or annoyed when I don't know exactly where or when stuff like hyperbolas or the mean value theorem are used in real life. Instead, I should be seeing an opportunity to learn something new. I should be excited that I've discovered something new to learn about a topic I absolutely love. I should be, like, absolutely jacked that there's stuff about math that I don't know but can find out about for myself. I mean, that's what I'd want my students to do, right?

So this year, I'm going to start using this response (or something similar, still a work in progress):

• "You know what? I'm not quite sure. I know there's a use for [insert mathematical concept here], but I'm still trying to figure that out. I'll try to do some research on it after class. Maybe you could also look it up, and let me know what you find. That would be really helpful."

I'm a math teacher; I shouldn't be shrinking away from that question when a student comes asking. I should be full-on body tackling that thing like it's a quarterback's blind side.

I do think we math teachers try to know where the stuff we teach can be used in the world beyond school; but we won't always know. When we don't know, we need to find out. We need to include our students in the process of finding out, because they asked the question in the first place.

We can't always know, but we can always care. We can always care enough to try and find out. We can always care enough to try and do better.

So this year, I'll try and do better.

BATTLESHIP! - Graphing Equations of Circles

I've been dying to incorporate more PrBL tasks into my classroom. For the past couple of years, our math team spent a huge deal of time and energy on a complete overhaul of our four-year math curriculum in order to more strongly align it with ACT College Readiness Standards. It was certainly a worthwhile endeavor; I'm very proud of what our awesome math team has accomplished, and I think our students will greatly benefit from what we've done so far.

At the same time, this pretty much meant I had zero time to work on any PrBL stuff, especially with moving from teaching Geometry to teaching Pre-Calculus at the same time. However, our project was finally completed this past spring, so I have been happily spending the summer working on PrBL-related curriculum mapping for my Pre-Calculus and Advanced Pre-Calculus classes.

(Yes, I just said "happily" and "curriculum mapping" in the same sentence.)

Below is one PrBL task that I've been working on for a graphing unit this school year. I think (and hope) the students will have fun with it; it's not particularly all that "real-worldy," and it definitely needs refinement, but I gotta start somewhere. Of course, as with anything I haven't tried in class yet, it's a work in progress.

This task involves understanding and graphing equations of circles. I call it: BATTLESHIP!

(Although the task is not quite the same as the classic board game.)

The Scenario: You are the commander of a mighty naval fleet in the middle of international waters. The enemy has developed a new type of submarine known as a Hyperbolic Invisibility/Deep Dive ENgine, or a H.I.D.D.EN. submarine.

The enemy's H.I.D.D.EN. submarines are capable of avoiding nearly all types of radar detection. In fact, you are only able to determine the distance a H.I.D.D.EN. submarine is from any of your naval stations.

Your task is to devise a way to pinpoint the exact location of a H.I.D.D.EN. submarine. Succeed, and your forces will be able to destroy the enemy fleet. Fail, and you're doomed. DOOMED!

(If you couldn't tell, I have an affinity for silly acronyms.)


The Entry Event: Before things really kick off, I'll give the students a few warm-up problems to assess and activate their prior knowledge. Students will need to know the parts of a circle (particularly the radius and the center), and will also need to be able to re-write a two-variable equation (i.e. solve for y in terms of x). The latter will be important for graphing circles on most graphing utilities.

To introduce the problem, I'll present the following situation to students on Activeprompt:

"You are the commander of a naval station, shown here on the grid. An enemy submarine is approaching.

The submarine has a cloaking device that hides its exact location from your radar system. However, you are still able determine how far away the submarine is from the station.

The submarine is 5 miles away from the station. Where is it?" 

(I could make things more interesting by removing the axes and labels, but I want to steer the students in a certain direction here.)

I posted this prompt on Twitter, and a couple of my friends immediately pointed out that they couldn't answer the question because they didn't know which direction the submarine was from the station. This is true, and in many ways is actually the point of this prompt; I suppose I should be more clear that I want students to guess where the submarine might be, and that I'm not necessarily looking for "the correct answer" at this stage.

Still, I had several responses to the prompt and ended up with something I would hope to see in class:

 (Interesting, isn't it?)

Hopefully, students will take one look at this picture and notice the pattern: there appears to be a circle forming around the station. At this point, students can take some time to think about further questions: Why is there a circle? What does this circle mean? What can we figure out about this circle? What does this circle have to do with finding the submarine?

After discussion, the hope is that students would come to the following conclusions:

• The circle represents all of the possible locations of the submarine, based on the information we have.
• We have no way to determine the exact location of the submarine with our current information.

That second statement is critical. The key to solving the problem lies in the realization that more information is needed.


Need-to-Knows & Scaffolding: While I'm sure that my students will surprise me (students have a habit of doing that), the need-to-know that should be immediately apparent is: "How do we locate the submarine?" In fact, we begin the process of answering this question with the entry event.

Again, one of the key realizations from the entry event is that all of the possible locations of the submarine are represented by a circle, radius 5, with the naval station as its center:

A good follow-up question would be, "How do we narrow down the number of possible locations?" The answer may or may not be readily apparent. I'd encourage students to think outside the box -- or perhaps, more appropriately, "think outside the circle."

Because we could narrow down the number of possible locations if we had a second naval station. Say, at coordinates (7, -8). And it detects the submarine at a distance of 7 miles.

 

Aha! Just like that, we've narrowed our possible locations down to two; namely, the two points (1 and 2) where the circles intersect each other. (It certainly wouldn't hurt to have the students explain why these are the only two places the submarine could be.)

From here, it probably won't be a huge leap for the students to realize that adding a third naval station will narrow our choices down to just one. We'll get back to that in a moment.

A critical issue arises from this new picture: while Point 2 clearly appears to be located at the coordinates (7, -1), it's much less clear what the coordinates of Point 1 are. This should lead to another question: "How do we accurately determine the coordinates of the point(s) where the circles intersect?"

Now, this part of the task is a bit murky for me. It's not all that difficult to come up with a good estimate of Point 1's coordinates using Geometer's Sketchpad, but the point of the task is for students to work with and understand equations of circles. To this end, I want students to be working with a graphing utility (e.g. TI-83/84) as we address this question. So, yeah... if anyone has a good suggestion for how to make sure it steers in that direction, I'm all ears!

In any case, turning to our graphing calculators should bring up the question: "How do we graph circles?" The best way to do this with our graphing calculators (or an online tool like Desmos) would be to input an equation. That, of course, leads to: "What's the equation for a circle?"

At this point, appropriate scaffolding activities and workshops could be used to help students understand how to determine the equation of a circle, given the center and the radius. I'd probably also give students a few practice problems to give them some exercise in this skill. When using a graphing calculator like a TI-83 or TI-84, students would also need to know how to re-write their circle equations for y in terms of x so they can actually enter them. (This would be one advantage of using Desmos over a graphing calculator; such a conversion isn't necessary. On the other hand, re-writing equations would also be a great chance to talk about issues such as positive and negative roots, for instance.)

Since I don't have the proper software readily available for getting some clear TI-83 screenshots, here are the two circles graphed on Desmos:

On a TI graphing calculator, students could use a combination of ZOOM and TRACE to estimate the coordinates of Point 1. CALC -> INTERSECT would also be a good option. On Desmos, we can just click on the intersection point to get an estimate of the coordinates:

If we want greater accuracy, we can zoom in really close:

Using CALC -> INTERSECT on my TI-83 yielded an estimate of (3.4461538, -1.969231), so very similar results. If we rounded to the nearest hundredth, we can pretty solidly estimate the coordinates of Point 1 to be (3.45, -1.97). (It might be interesting to have students estimate the coordinates of Point 1 prior to using their graphing utilities to see how close they came by just "eyeballing" it.)

Of course, we said much earlier that we need three stations to determine where the submarine is. We could introduce the third station much earlier in the problem, or we could hold off until now to introduce it.

So, let's say the third station is located at (-5, 4) and detects the submarine at a range of 13 miles. Students determine the equation of the circle with this center and radius, enter it into their graphing utility, and voila:

So our enemy submarine is located at coordinates (7, -1). Huzzah!


Applying the Learning: Now, I wouldn't have gone through the whole business of figuring out how to estimate coordinates using a graphing utility if the solution was always going to be as simple as (7, -1). For something more challenging that definitely requires the assistance of a graphing utility, let's say we have the following information:

• Naval Station A is located at (-16.47, -3.53). It detects an enemy submarine at a distance of 12.31 miles.
• Naval Station B is located at (5.68, -3.74). It detects an enemy submarine at a distance of 13.97 miles.
• Naval Station C is located at (5.43, 5.68). It detects an enemy submarine at a distance of 11.96 miles.

This takes a bit more work, and the answers will probably vary slightly. This might also be a good opportunity for students to debate how to get the "best" answer to this problem, since we want to be as accurate as possible when tracking down the enemy submarine.


Would You Like to Play a Game?: For something really fun at the end of this problem, we would turn our scenario into a war game. I would break the students up into teams of two or three; each team gets one H.I.D.D.EN. submarine and three naval stations. Teams get to place their submarine and naval stations at whatever coordinates they choose (within certain borders, of course).

After all submarines and stations are placed, I provide each team with information about how far away each enemy submarine is located from their stations. (This adds a layer of complexity to the original problem scenario, as teams now have information about multiple submarines and they have to mix & match circles in order to pinpoint them all.) The teams then race against each other to try and be the first to locate and destroy the other submarines. Winning team gets riches and glory. Well, just glory. Not much glory.


Final Thoughts:  In the end, I thought this task seemed like a fun way for students to learn about how to graph equations of circles and then apply that skill.

Hopefully, when the students share out what they learned as a result of this problem, they'll be able to articulate a deep understanding of the relationship between circles, their equations, and their graphs. It'd also be cool if some of them see the connections between equations of circles and the Pythagorean Theorem or the Distance Formula. I certainly hope they end up finding the whole thing to be a worthwhile experience.

It's definitely not perfect, but I'm looking forward to trying it out and seeing how it goes.