It was a common occurrence. My dad would chase me around the house with a math workbook, and I would repeatedly dart away at the sight of it and hide under a table. Eventually, he would catch me and usher me to learn. I would sulk. I was not a straightforward child to teach. I would turn my nose up at things that failed to captivate my attention. It took a great deal of convincing and bribing to get me to consider doing something I did not want to do. Many assumed this was because I was unable to do it. That couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, when I was forced to, I excelled. The reality of the matter was, I just found no purpose or excitement in mundane, logical activities such as math.
When forced to sit still in a classroom setting, my mind still continued to run.
I found comfort in this fact. Despite being physically unable to leave, my mind was essentially untouchable by anyone. Often, I would completely lose track of time; I would get whisked into an intricate daydream, and before I knew it, the bell would ring, and class would be over. I was not a lazy child by any means. I would begrudgingly complete my work as fast as possible. The less time I had to spend in a painfully logical and structured frame of mind, the better. The society we live in today places a significant amount of emphasis on one’s ability to think analytically. The careers that are the most highly regarded, are the ones that are based on analytical principles. Reminders of this reality haunted me everywhere; in order to truly succeed, I needed to force myself to have a mindset that felt unnatural. I felt as if I was being forced to write with my left hand; the hand I wanted to use was my right.
It became increasingly obvious to me that my thoughts were supposed to follow a certain format. I was supposed to think in structured patterns, as opposed to in random flares. The three words “show your work” made me huff in irritation each time I saw them. I could solve the problems, yes; but the answers came to me in unorganized bursts, as opposed to in a systematic and orderly way. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t complete tasks the way that I wanted to. Why was the way that I thought, perceived as unstructured, when I was producing the same output as someone who completed the task in an “organized” manner?
The way I thought was abstract and dreamlike. With it, came a fervent desire to avoid the real world and the rationality that came with it. However, I was repeatedly reminded that I needed to conform to the structure that was being imposed on me. The thought of it made me recoil. For a long time, I stubbornly refused to complete tasks in the way that I was expected to. I believed that if I simply avoided the constant mold that everyone was trying to place on me, I could maintain my originality while also operating within my small bubble of comfort.
If my past self were to have a conversation with my present self, she would groan in disappointment at the way my perception of this very issue has altered over time. I still find myself sighing in annoyance when I’m bound by the prison of logic, however, I find that I’ve made a strange sort of compromise with the world around me. The ability to think the way I’m “supposed” to think has been hammered into me for a long time, and while I possess the capability to switch to that mentality more easily than when I was younger, it still feels slightly strained.
I would not say that my thinking has conformed to the desired mold of society. I would say, however, that I’ve made my own mold for myself that coexists with that of the world around me. The present and past versions of myself may disagree about a variety of things, but every version of me can confirm that life is significantly more enjoyable when it is guided by wonder and possibility, as opposed to mundane practicality and rigid analysis.
Hi, Amisha! I loved the memory that you first begin with. I too was chased by my father into doing math work. I grew up as an English kid. I found solace in reading books and creative writing. However, I was forced to have my analytical skills of math and science grow in order to conform to whatever the school was teaching, whatever society wanted. I find your topic extremely intriguing. I loved touched on the fact that our society values analytical thinking because it leaves no room for abstract thinking. I think this is especially worrying. For example, as the increase of advocation for STEM majors increases, those looking to find a place in liberal arts may be undermined. I think it’s amazing that you didn’t conform to these beliefs but rather found a grey area in which you can coexist both by acknowledging your past and present self.
Hi Amisha! I really enjoyed reading your narrative about the way your mind works. I definitely relate to your anecdote about your dad. I vividly remember my dad nagging me to complete workbook pages and staring into space/drawing in the workbook out of spite. I haven’t really taken the time to consider the ways in which imaginative thinking can be pushed aside when we enter the workforce. I feel like the escapism is less appreciated today. Instead of spacing out and spending time in your own head, we find ourselves stuck to our phones whenever we find ourselves with free time. I thought it was interesting how you observed a “societally acceptable” way of thinking. I never considered how the way you think could also be scrutinized by those around us. I think that this is a fascinating point of conformity, and I wonder how we can learn to be more openminded to the different ways people’s minds work. I never realized how uniform and consistent we were expected to be in thought. I’m similar to you in which I have bursts of productivity and then lulls in motivation. Overall, I found your post really insightful and relatable!
Hey Amisha! First, I just wanted to say I love the title you chose. “The Prison of Logic” made me really interested to read your post because we see being logical as a very admirable trait. Just as I thought this, you mentioned this exact idea of logic being admirable to many people. I agree that society places high importance on logic and analytical thinking (my parents were similar to yours in this aspect). Oftentimes it overbears other important traits for children who find excitement in other fields. I like how you described your relationship with logic growing into a “compromise”. While we must adapt to a certain degree, maintaining wonder and imagination is still very important. I think we’re trained to have analytical thinking over time as we take more math classes and learn in a classroom environment, but I think it’s important that we don’t undervalue other characteristics such as creativity.