Preparing for the count

I met one of the trainees who joined our workplace while I was away to talk about the training we offer and find out what he’d like. My first chat with people is gently diagnostic: I ask whether they’d like to complete the form or whether they’d prefer me to do it. I watch how fluently they write, I ask how school was, we talk about the qualifications they do or don’t have.

M asked me to complete his form and warned me he sometimes couldn’t speak if he was asked difficult questions. He said he’d love to do our painting and decorating course. He also asked if we’d help with maths which had never been explained at school.

‘Of course’, I said, ‘Do you know what one and one is?’
‘Three?’
Ah. I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting to be able to tell him he already knew the foundations for maths.
‘If I put one finger from this hand on the table, and I put one finger from this hand on the table, can you see how many fingers I have on the table?’
‘Two,’ said with confidence.
‘Great! So if I put these [two from one hand] on the table, do you know how many that is?
‘Two.’
‘Good. So if I also put these [two from the other hand], do you know how many we have now?’
‘Four.’
‘That’s great! So if we use fingers you can do maths.’
‘Can you do maths with fingers? No-one ever told me that.’
He put one splayed hand on the table then the other and stared at them.
‘How many?’ I asked.
‘Ten.’
‘And what and what make ten?’
‘Five...
And… five.’
We swapped smiles.
‘Look at this.’ I put two fingers on the table then added one more. ‘How many?’
‘Three.’
‘OK, now…’
I put three fingers from the other hand on the table. ‘How many altogether?’
‘One, two, three, four, five, six.’
‘Good. So six is made of?
‘Three and three.’
‘Now watch again.’
I slowly and obviously removed one finger from one group of three then added a finger to the other group of three. ‘How many?’
‘Six?’
That’s right. And what makes six this time?’
He looked in astonishment. ‘Four… and… two.’
‘That’s right. Now watch again.’
I changed the fingers back to three and three. He was entranced. It was as if I was making flowers grow out of the table.
‘You can do maths with fingers? I never knew that.'
He gazed again at both his hands. I knew he was thinking of bigger numbers. ‘If you want more than ten you have to use your toes as well.’
He laughed.
‘Or there’s another way.’ I drew three dots and another three dots. ‘What’s that?’
‘Six,’ in wonderment and delight.
‘OK, I think we’ve done enough maths for one day. We can do some more next time you come in but if you want to practise some maths with your fingers before then, that would be great.’

I find it very hard to believe that no-one has done this with him before. He is such an eager learner. Probably he has been shown but has forgotten. So is this the result of damaged memory or is it neglect?

I can barely wait till next Tuesday to find out. This is as exciting as seeing someone grow flowers from the wood of the table.


These two fingers are also for those politicians who get counted in this evening who think that people like M don’t count and who are ignorant enough to believe that tax cuts for the wealthy are more important than education, benefits or jobs for the countless deprived.