Math whiz?

We were talking about how to calculate one's h-index the other day in my post qual class—ironic because the very idea of measuring and tracking one's productivity in that manner seems rather against everything poststructuralism stands for. But, nonetheless, that's what we were talking about. 

The h-index was imagined into existence by Jorge Hirsch in 2005 and it claims to be a measure—or somehow representative—of productivity. Calculating one's h-index is pretty simple, at least in my opinion. You simply find the highest number of papers that have been cited that same number of times. And that's your h-index. 

So, for example, I have two published articles, one of which has been cited twice. My h-index is, therefore, 1 because one article has been cited at least one time. 

Andrew has an h-index of 16, which means sixteen of his articles have been cited at least sixteen times. 

Michel Foucault has an h-index of 309. That mean 309 of his articles have been cited at least 309 times. 

My classmates seemed baffled by this idea, however, so I explained it quickly to them and they got it and then someone asked, "Are you some kind of math whiz?"

Which...if you know me...is a very funny question because a math whiz I am not. 

I have never once claimed math as a strong suit. Not once.

In elementary school, I completed one timed multiplication quiz...ever... So I learned early that I was not a whiz when it came to math. I was a math...opposite of whiz...

A math slug? 

I will brag that I scored in the 95th percentile on the GRE...on the verbal reasoning section.

On the quantitative section?
50th percentile (which I think speaks volumes about where my talents lie and how my brain works).

Admittedly, I've been doing a fair bit of remedial math the past few years as I've been homeschooling my kids. I'm pretty solid right through middle school math and then...things get a little spotty. But even then I've managed to help Miriam through a few sticky problems in her college math course this semester (she's taking math through BYU-I and loves it). So, not too shabby...

*****

Yesterday in class we were getting into Lincoln and Guba's (1985) Naturalistic Inquiry and our professor (Dr. St. Pierre) goes, "I mean, how long ago was this published? It seems radical to our ears today. Qualitative work has strayed so far from what they've laid out here. Seriously—someone do a quick calculation for us. How old is this book?"

"Forty," I answered, just that quick. 

"Okay, you really must be good at math!" someone said. 

"I promise I'm not," I snorted.

"How'd you do that math so fast then?!" someone else asked.

Well, I was born in 1985, so...

I mean, I stumble over my birthday calculations a bit more now that I'm 40 (right? Is that possible? I can't be that old...can I?) than I did when I was 14, but...uh...I gotta be honest: it's really not that difficult for me to figure out how long ago 1985 was. 

It was purely circumstantial.

Besides, considering the year is 2026 (just one year off from 2025, an even 40 from 1985), it shouldn't have been too difficult for that room to make that calculation anyway. 

This coming from someone who scored in the 50th percentile on quantitative reasoning!

*****

"So I guess I'm pretty good at math after all," I said to Andrew (with a wink) this evening while I was sharing this story.

"Sure," he said in a way that convinced me he would have patted my head if hadn't been across the room. "According to a room of humanities scholars... No offense."

None taken.