Why Intelligence Shouldn’t be Measured in Math Classes: Hopkins’ Devaluation of the Humanities
Beatrice Lundberg ' 27 Assistant Op Ed Editor
Throughout the course of my eighth grade year I called my mom at least three times a month begging to come home from school. It wasn’t because of friend drama or bad test grades, but from a constant fear of being looked down upon by my classmates who excelled in science and math.
“What AP science did you choose?” “What math course are you in?… enriched or accelerated?” These are all questions that the average Hopkins student has heard enough times to make their eardrums bleed. As someone who has a natural inclination for the humanities, I find myself cringing at these exchanges, wondering if my answers will make the person inquiring think I am stupid.
I don’t blame people for being curious– level within a class is a measurable way to assess commitment to a subject. The problem arises when we assign value to the track someone is on, and treat them differently based on their answer. There needs to be a change in perspective: not prioritizing math or science does not diminish someone's intelligence; it usually only reflects a deeper investment in other fields, such as the humanities.
At times, it can feel like people on campus place greater importance on STEM-related subjects, viewing them as more rigorous or respectable than others. This issue goes beyond just our students: it is embedded in our school system as a whole. For instance, the lack of honors English courses and dedicated spaces for literary and artistic engagements demonstrates a broader imbalance. There needs to be more sanctuaries for those who are passionate about the liberal arts, and that does not include the second (50 million dollar) building donated by John Malone.
The decentralization of the humanities is the result of the cultural environment of Hopkins. Whether it is reinforced in the home or on campus, people at this school tend to elevate certain subjects because of the career paths they lead to. A couple of weeks ago I was listening in on a conversation between two friends talking about whether it is “worth it” to get a PHD. One student argued that it is pointless because there is no money in research, and ultimately you don’t gain the experience of working a real job at a corporation. The other student replied that the foundations for that job were set up by those PHDs who study the content that the company utilizes.
I found that the first students had the more common opinion– they attach importance to types of education based on how much they benefit materially, while the second student acknowledged the value of a job like a PHD because they improve our society as a whole. This concept of prioritizing types of knowledge over others also applies to the ‘humanities versus STEM’ divide, where careers with concrete and tangible outcomes– such as medicine or engineering– are perceived as more secure or respectable, while fields like writing or teaching are undervalued because they have less of an ‘output.’Educational value is not objective, and the process of finding what is important to you is personal. Just because you find a topic to be more pressing or significant, doesn’t mean that another person’s passion is less worthy of recognition.
The most important lesson that I have learned in my years at Hopkins is that everyone has a talent for something: whether that is calculus, writing, or a hobby that is completely nonacademic like baking. Although these strengths may differ from your own interests, it is important to remember that having those focuses does not make them lesser than– only different. As Meg March reminds us in Little Women: “Just because my dreams are different than yours doesn’t mean they’re unimportant” This sentiment is something that our community would benefit from learning, especially in a culture that is quick to equate worth to a narrow definition of success.
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