Fashion Figures

Front matter

a

Fashion

How Missy the Mathlete Made the Cut

Contents

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About the Author

Melissa A. Borza leads strategy, product management and marketing ata sales enablement software company. Before that, she worked as a product leader at CA Technologies. Prior to that she worked as a journalist and technical writer. Ms. Borza has taught technical writing, public speaking and product management classes and is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. She presents regularly at conferences around the world, such as the Grace Hopper Celebration of Women in Computing, and she contributes frequent articles and blogs on change management, team transformations, product management and increasing the representation of women in IT and other STEM careers. Ms. Borza holds a patent in an integrated impact analysis system. She received her MA in Communications from Syracuse University and her BA in English and Psychology from Cornell University.

Introduction

The inspiration for this story came to me when researching a blog, | discovered that girls as young as third and fourth graders were opting out of STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) tracks. That means that at nine years old, girls are closing career doors they may not even know exist yet. The choices they make have nothing to do with skills or ability but rather are driven by unconsious biases and false assumptions. As we hear more about the dearth of women in tech fields, it’s easy to connect the dots. We cannot wait to address this in college or even in high school, as foundational skills for STEM need to be built much earlier. This is a problem that has to be solved in elementary and middle school. Girls need to be encouraged to engage in STEM subjects as early as possible, not just to fill the pipeline but also to drive inclusion and diversity.

This book is written for middle-schoolers facing the pressures of growing up in a hyperconnected, technology-driven universe where traditional social, educational and personal pressures also persist.

This book shows how one girl stuggles with social pressures, varied academic interests and a deep desire to help her friends, family and the world she lives in to be better. She embraces her inner geek, her artistic flair and her heart’s true desires to find her way. | hope it inspires more girls to pursue their interests in math AND the arts and to grow their talents to help make our world a better and brighter place for all.

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104 Driscoll Avenue

The smoky smell of cooking bacon drifted down the hallway of 104 Driscoll Avenue, up three stairs, around a bend, and through Missy’s barely cracked door to tickle her nose. Twelve feet plus three feet plus one and a half feet equals the distance the scent of bacon just traveled from the kitchen. Missy Maker’s brain calculated, as her mouth watered, before she was even fully awake. She let the smell of bacon pull her up into a sitting position and then lead her down the stairs and into her family’s kitchen. If G-ma cooks the whole pound ... Fifteen slices in one pound of bacon divided by three people, means at least five slices for me.

G-ma stood with her back toward the counter. She was busy working over the stove, a spatula in one hand and an oversize mug, filled with black coffee and featuring a photo of Missy and her sister, Molly, both smiling widely, in the other. G-ma moved expertly between the frying pan and griddle, her bright blue eyes in stark contrast to her black and silver hair. Missy imagined purple streaks atop G-ma’s spiky ‘do.

© Melissa A. Borza and CA 2017 M. A. Borza, Fashion Figures, DOI 10.1007/978- | -4842-2274-4_ |

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Bubbles exploded from the tops of the perfect pancake spheres. Missy thought of her favorite ratio—the diameter of a circle to the circumference of a circle—and how it resulted in the irrational and lovely number called pi. In a haze of bacon smoke, the elegant equation for the area of a circle, pi r-squared, seemed to float about the stove as G-ma adroitly flipped each pancake over. Just as it was done to crispy perfection, G-ma swiftly removed the bacon strips from the frying pan to a paper-towel covered plate.

“Good morning! Miss Melissa Merry Maker!” G-ma sang out noticing Missy watching her prepare breakfast. Then, as if reading Missy’s thoughts, G-ma said, “I cooked only six slices of bacon, dearie. And six pancakes. That’s two apiece of each.” G-ma winked at Missy who sidled up to the kitchen peninsula and sat on a bar stool.

As Missy watched her grandmother cooking breakfast, she felt an odd weight on her head. She raised her hand and touched her hair. She felt at once that she had forgotten to take down her ponytail before going to bed. Now, it sat askew, leaning to the right and creating a heavy sensation. Missy had unruly frizzy, blond hair. It was long, and Missy found the easiest way to manage it was to wrangle it into a bunch and to tie it tightly atop her head in various positions.

Missy pictured her head as a globe and overlaid a compass in her mind’s eye. Zero degrees at the top; hair slipped to about 70 degrees. With determination, she grabbed her ponytail, quickly divided the hair between two hands and pulled and wrangled it up to the North Pole. Then Missy gave her hair a sharp tug pulling each handful in opposite directions to lock in the elastic band. Satisfied for now, Missy looked around the kitchen feeling more awake.

Missy’s pet cat, Pi, arched its back and weaved in and out of the legs on Missy’s stool. As a calico, Missy thought Pi was the most fashionable cat she knew! His brown and black striped fur and green eyes made him ready for any formal event; however, it was the perfectly round patch of black over white fur that encircled his left eye for which she had named him. Missy reached down to stroke Pi’s fur.

“What’s the occasion, G-ma?” Missy asked sitting back up and resting her chin in her hands.

Chapter | | 104 Driscoll Avenue

G-ma plated breakfast for Missy and herself then set down her spatula and delivered the plates to the peninsula. Then she walked to the refrigerator. She took out the maple syrup and butter, then said, “We're celebrating! TGIF: Thank G-ma, it’s Friday!”

180 days of school —18 days

=162 days until summer vacation!

Missy laughed. Eighteen days of sixth grade down, one hundred and sixty-two left. “Missy!” Mr. Maker called from the hall toward Missy’s room. “In here, Dad,” Missy called back, “with G-ma! Breakfast is ready.”

Mr. Maker walked into the kitchen and greeted his family. He was dressed as usual wearing a white button-down shirt with a colorful bow tie. Today it was green with yellow polka dots. He also wore his so-called dress-up jeans with black loafers. His black-rimmed glasses dangled precariously from his shirt pocket.““Anyone seen my glasses?” he asked.

“Dad,” Missy said, pointing, “they’re hanging from your pocket!” Pi watched the exchange carefully and followed Missy’s hand to stare up at Mr. Maker, too. He seemed just as incredulous as Missy that Mr. Maker could not find his glasses.

Mr. Maker patted his pocket. Reassured, he asked, “Did you sign up for any clubs last night?” He knew Missy had attended the Cherry Hill Academic Prep School’s annual club fair with her best friend AJ, but they hadn’t yet talked about it. “l heard from Ms. Jameson that there’s a new math club this year and if they have enough students, they can compete in the Math Olympics,” Mr. Maker explained.

Ms. Jameson was Missy’s math teacher, her neighbor, and her father’s childhood friend. Forty-two minus twelve equals the length of their friendship. Sometimes it was awkward to have a teacher who your father knew so well. Ms. Jameson was the club advisor and had mentioned the math club to Missy a few times. Her teacher had really tried hard to recruit Missy and her friends to join at the club fair. Now, it seemed Ms. Jameson had also told her dad about it too.

42 years (Mr. Maker's age now)

-12 years (Mr. Maker's age when he met Ms. Jameson)

30 years (the Length of Mr. Maker and Ms. Jameson's friendship)

“I signed up for the fashion club with AJ,’ Missy responded.

G-ma poured steaming black coffee into a travel mug, screwed on the lid, and placed it on the edge of the counter for Mr. Maker. Then she plated the last of the pancakes and bacon and handed it to him.

Mr. Maker sipped his coffee and set the plate down next to Missy’s. He raised his eyebrows at Missy who was watching him closely.

“Ha!” she said trying to change the subject away from joining the math club. “You drink too much coffee!”

“Well, I think you’d be a great addition to the math club,” Mr. Maker joked.“You see what | did there? Math club? Addition?!” He laughed and Missy rolled her eyes.“Think about it, kiddo,” he said.”’You’re great at math and the team could use your skills.”

“Sure, Dad,” Missy said, knowing that she would never join the math club. It was bad enough she had a brain that automatically invented math stories about everything she looked at! No way did she want her friends to know what a geek she really was. This year, she would shed her childhood nickname, “Missy-Math-Maker,’ and she would focus on girl stuff. The fashion club was just the ticket! She loved fashion and all the creative possibilities and she knew it would be time-consuming, maybe too time-consuming to do anything else!

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Mr. Maker took a gulp of his coffee then looked at his watch. He put his cup down and grabbed a napkin from the napkin holder on the peninsula. He placed one pancake on it; he snapped his bacon into four pieces and added that to the pancake, he topped that with a pat of butter and a drop of syrup, and finally the other pancake; then he rolled his pancake sandwich inside the napkin, swapped it with his glasses in his shirt pocket and grabbed his keys from the counter. He kissed Missy on the forehead before picking up his mug again.

“| want to hear more about this fashion club, kiddo. Have a gee-are-eight day!” he said tugging Missy’s ponytail.““See what | did there?” he winked and blew a kiss across the kitchen to G-ma. “Early meeting. I’m off!”

G-ma returned the kiss by air mail then smiled at Missy.‘‘Let’s finish up, dearie,” she said.

(1 pancake+8) X 2 = 16 bite-sized pleces

Missy cut her pancakes into quarters then eighths, and calculated how many bite-sized pieces she’d just made. One bite is one-sixteenth of my pancakes. She poured maple syrup over her whole plate drenching her pancake pieces and bacon slices.“Did Molly call yet?” she asked G-ma with a mouthful of food.

“Swallow before speaking, dearie. | was just about to check in with her,’ G-ma said reaching for the kitchen computer keyboard. Just as she clicked the enter key, she heard the familiar dong of a video call coming through.

“Molly!” Missy shouted and positioned herself in front of the screen.

“Good morning Miss Molly May Maker!” said G-ma, using a napkin to touch the screen to peck Molly’s cheek as if she were kissing her.““Smooch!” she said.

“Hey, G-ma! Hey, Missy! Did Dad leave?” Molly asked.

“You just missed him,’ G-ma said.

“Bummer. | wanted to share my news, but l'Il send him an email later,’ Molly said. “You won't believe it! | won a scholarship to go to the Grace Hopper Celebration of Women in Computing!”

Missy wrinkled her nose and peered at her sister through the screen with a confused look on her face. She knew Grace Hopper had been an admiral in the U.S. Navy and an early computer scientist, but why was she having a celebration? “Is it a party?” Missy asked, “Can | come too?”

Molly had been telling G-ma about the program. “It’s not a party. It’s a conference where thousands of women and men get together and talk about technology! I’m so excited. l'Il be counting down the days!”

“That’s wonderful, Molly! We are so proud of you!” G-ma said.““Before | retired, | attended a few Grace Hopper events myself! It’s a great place to connect and network with folks from a variety of technology areas,” G-ma told Molly.

“And maybe | can land a summer internship,” Molly added.

G-ma and Molly chatted while Missy finished her breakfast. “Love you, Miss,” Molly shouted to Missy as she ended the call.“Let’s catch up soon.”

Missy missed having her sister at home. Ten weeks till Molly comes home for break is seventy days or...

Stop! Missy interrupted her thoughts. For a girl who was trying not to be a geek, the message sure hadn’t made it to her brain. Missy rinsed her plate in the sink and loaded it into the dishwasher along with her fork and knife. Her mind was racing. How was she ever going to recreate her image as a regular girl if she couldn’t even control her own thinking?

Pi pranced to the dishwasher and gave it a sniff. “Ready for breakfast, Pi?” Missy asked.“Tuna or salmon?” Pi wove his way through Missy’s legs as Missy got out the can opener and pulled out a can of cat food from the cupboards above. Then she reached down and picked up Pi’s dish. She quickly rinsed and dried it and then refilled it. She poured fresh water into his water bowl while Pi actively ignored her. With the bowls filled and replaced in their familiar location, Pi swished his tail and tucked into his own breakfast.

“Fifteen minutes till the bus comes,’ G-ma reminded Missy. Missy finished feeding Pi and washed her hands in the kitchen sink.

Fifteen divided by brushing teeth and dressing and walking to the corner to get the bus equals three minutes to brush, two minutes to walk, which leaves ten minutes to dress. Missy sprinted to the hallway bathroom and brushed her teeth. She ran up the stairs to her room and threw open the doors to her closet. Missy checked her smartphone calendar. “Friday is fun-in-the-sun day,’ the calendar reminded her.

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Missy and her best friend Andrea Jane Dupre, better known as “AJ,” had sketched out a fashion calendar for every school day. They had sat down on Missy’s bedroom floor and mapped out fashion themes for the first marking period of middle school. Each week had a general theme and every Friday had a specific outfit idea. They typed it all up and posted it online to share with their friends.

As Missy rushed to get ready, she pulled out denim shorts, which at one time had been her favorite jeans. When she had grown two inches over the summer, G-ma had insisted they go into the donations pile. On a lark, Missy cut them off at the knees and frayed the bottom two inches. Now her favorite jeans were her favorite shorts! Missy added a teal t-shirt bejeweled with a sparkly giant M on the front. Next, from her dresser drawer, she took out two knee socks: one black and white striped and one teal with yellow stars.

Shorts plus top plus sock plus coordinating sock equals one rocking outfit! Missy dressed quickly and stuffed her feet into her favorite black tennis shoes artfully splattered with reflective pink and orange paint.

She stopped by the full-length mirror in the corner of her room, re-tied her ponytail and put on a pair of teal and glitter cat-eye sunglasses, then she smiled, posed and snapped a selfie. She posted the photo with the hashtags OOTD (Outfit of the Day) and FITSD (Fun-in-the-Sun Day). Satisfied with her look, Missy headed out to catch her bus, shouting “Bye, G-ma,” as she pushed through the spring-loaded front door that slammed shut behind her while she scanned her SocialMe feeds to see who else had posted an OOTD.

MATH HACK: WHAT IS PI?

Pi is an irrational number represented by this symbol from the Greek alphabet:

JE

To calculate pi, you simply divide the circumference of a circle by its diameter. This is also called a ratio. What’s so awesome about pi is that it never changes. No matter how large or how small the circle, pi is always the same! Try it for yourself! You'll be amazed.

Here’s a trick to help you remember the first digits in pi. Just count the number of letters in each of the words in this phrase: May | have a large container of coffee?

When you calculate pi, you will also see that the numbers never repeat or create a pattern. Many people round it down to just the first two decimal places. However, this is pi to its first 100 decimal places:

FUN FACT

March 14 in the United States is celebrated as Pi Day because March is the third month of the year and this date is notated like this:

3/14 wo

Codes and Crises

Missy saw two things as soon as she rounded the corner of the Sixth Grade Hall at Cherry Hill Academic Prep School or “CHAPS” as it was fondly called. CHAPS was more than just a middle school. It was an entire school campus made of four large buildings including the elementary school or The Lower School and the high school or The Upper School plus an administration building. CHAPS had a reputation, at least among parents, for having strong academics and a great STEM program. STEM stands for science, technology, engineering and math. In her six years in attendance, Missy had come to feel that this was not really the case. In her experience, all the students seemed to care about were sports and popularity; two things she knew nothing about! The CHAPS schools shared a set of offices, a gymnasium, an auditorium, and a cafeteria, which were all housed in the Gates Admin Building, named for a famous and wealthy CHAPS alum, not Bill Gates, though that was one of many school myths that circulated every year. The campus included several sports fields and green areas, and one big, inconvenient, disruptive and unfair rule: no cell phones during school hours. That meant that all cell phones remained locked in lockers or switched off in backpacks all day, every day, no exceptions. Even if they were allowed, as soon as you made it past the main parking area, all signals disappeared and connections dropped. The whole CHAPS campus seemed to be in a bubble of bad reception.

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CHAPS = Lower School + Middle School + Upper School + Gates Building

As Missy got closer to her locker, the first thing she noticed was a giant sign that ran the length of the wall: “RED?CE. ?EUSE. RECYCLE. WHAT’S MISSING? U R!”

O

RED?CE. 2€USE. RECYCLE.

That brought a smile to Missy's face. She liked codes and puzzles, and that was an easy one! Her smile quickly turned into a pucker when she noticed the second thing.

Missy scrunched her eyebrows and pressed her lips together in concern. The neon green sticky note glittered from the center of her locker. She knew that could mean only one thing—an AJ Dupre crisis!

AJ and Missy had known each other since the first grade in CHAPS, when they met in Mrs. Works’ class and sat next to each other. AJ and her family had moved from Pennsylvania to New Jersey when AJ’s mom had taken a new job at a pharmaceutical company.

Having a love of puzzles and codes, the two developed many secret languages and various ciphers during elementary school. Missy rarely had occasion to use any of them; meanwhile, AJ had a knack for uncovering urgent scenarios and specific cases to employ their special language.

Missy speed-walked down the hall and peeled the note off her locker door. She looked at the notation and decoded the message.

Missy quickly translated: AJ has an emergency, and she’s not happy. Meet by the water fountain near the Discovery Lab (which took up rooms 4A, 4B and 4C).

Missy was experienced with AJ’s emergencies. They ranged from what Missy thought of as truly urgent, like forgetting a homework assignment or to study for a quiz, to the frivolous such as needing to share news about a friend or an upcoming event, to a fashion faux pas like leaving the house dressed for the wrong day. Whatever the crisis, as AJ’s best friend, Missy always tried to help. Last year, Missy managed to tutor AJ on a whole math chapter in the ten minutes before class began; and just last week, she had swapped sweaters and one sock with AJ and managed to improve both their looks. Whatever the crisis, AJ and Missy could find a workable solution together.

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When Missy arrived at the water fountain, AJ was surrounded by a swarm including Morgan, Mahdavi, Danny and Kate. Missy calculated the severity of the crisis based on the number of people being consulted. Five heads to solve one problem. This must be really serious, Missy thought.

As Missy approached the huddle, AJ’s head popped up. AJ was the tallest girl in the sixth grade. As a soccer player and runner, she was lean but not willowy, with a mop of long, red curly hair that she tamed back with headbands and elastics in elaborate configurations.

“Youre here!” AJ reached out her arm and pulled Missy into the huddle. “Great! We need you!”

Missy was relieved to see AJ had remembered #FITSD. AJ’s rhinestonestudded neon shades sat upon her head like a princess crown and matched her bejeweled ballet flats perfectly. “Hey guys,’ Missy whispered, greeting the others. “AJ, what’s the crisis?”

A] beamed, “You cracked my message?”

“| did. What’s going on?” Missy asked.

AJ peeked above the huddle and scanned the hall before speaking. Then she ducked down and in a hushed voice she started her story, “I was just telling the girls and Danny ...” AJ’s voice trailed off, as a teacher approached the water fountain and took a sip.

“You won't believe it! The fashion club has its first competition in a mere two weeks!”

The crowd gasped.

“Shucks!” Danny said. Missy noticed that Danny had embraced #FITSD too. He wore aviator sun glasses and had somehow painted the tip of his nose white, which made Missy smile.

“Seriously?!” Kate interjected. In her crouched position, Missy could not see the whole of her outfit, but she knew it would be a replica of the school’s old uniform, which had not been enforced since the second grade. “I knew it would be soon, but gosh!” Kate said.

“We have to get organized! lII die if we fail!” AJ said dramatically.

“How can we possibly get our looks together so quickly?” Morgan asked. Morgan was dressed neatly, as was her usual style. Like Kate, Morgan wore a tan skirt and a blue golf shirt, but Morgan’s nod to #FITSD was a small sunburst pin attached to the collar of her white cardigan.

“OMG! Can we make it work?” Mahdavi asked.

Timeto create new Looks = 6 X (2 weeks — sleeping — eating — school — chores — homework)

Missy looked at the faces of the people huddled around; each was stunned silent. Her mind was spinning as she calculated the number of days and hours of free time they each would have between now and the competition.

“We've got time!” Missy shouted arriving at her conclusion. Missy startled the others and caught the eye of Mrs. Towers, the gym teacher, heading down the hallway toward them.

“Eight minutes until the bell, kids,’ Mrs. Towers said tapping her watch as she passed by them. Mrs. Towers always wore workout gear in school. Every day she wore the same uniform of a gray t-shirt sporting the CHAPS Knights team logo with black running pants and black trainers. She kept her long, blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Missy imagined Mrs. Towers, who stood at least six feet tall and was rail thin, could have been a beautiful fashion model with her hair and make-up done up and wearing the right clothes.

Doesn’t she get bored wearing the same dull clothes every day? Missy wondered to herself, as she watched Mrs. Towers turn the corner. Then Missy ducked her head back into the huddle.

“Really? You think we can get enough work done in such a short time,” AJ whispered to Missy.

Morgan spoke up, “Well, at least we have some weekends. | bet we can put something together in time.”

They all nodded, regaining their confidence. Missy also reassured the group, “By my calculations, we’ve got plenty of time!”

“Our first official fashion club meeting is Monday,’ Kate said,“but I’m sure we can make a plan and work over the weekend to be ready by the competition.”

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Chapter 2 | Codes and Crises

“Okay,” Missy said. “Look at us!” Missy spun around and then pointed to Danny’s shades and Mahdavi’s colorful scarf. Danny snapped his fingers in a zee configuration to reinforce Missy’s statement. “We are Fashion Forward —all the way!” Missy said and high-fived with AJ, then Danny.

“Okay! AJ said, relieved her crisis had been managed. “Let’s meet in the cafeteria at lunchtime and figure out what we need to do next.”

“Great!” Missy and Morgan said in unison. “JINX!” they both sang out just as the bell rang.

Eleven-forty-eight. Twelve minutes to the lunch bell, Missy calculated. The morning seemed to drag on. Even while Ms. Jameson taught a lesson on calculating ratios, one of Missy’s favorite topics, Missy found it hard to concentrate. Her mind kept drifting to visions of the fashion club’s first fashion competition. She pictured Ms. Jameson wearing a high-tech gown that lit up when she walked and gestured toward the whiteboard. Ms. Jameson was generally all buttoned-up, preferring to wear dark colored pantsuits or skirts and coordinating blouses. Ms. Jameson was anything but flashy.

“Missy?” Ms. Jameson called on her.“‘Missy, can you answer?”

“Uh. What?” Missy said startled. “Il mean, excuse me. | didn’t follow the question.”

Ms. Jameson raised one eyebrow at Missy, and then called on an eager James Kim to answer the question. “The answer is one-twenty-fourth,” said James confidently sneering at Missy.

“Of course it is,’ Missy scolded herself under her breath for not paying attention. She wrote out the equation in her math notebook. She listened closely as Ms. Jameson dictated the class’s homework, then carefully packed up her planner and notebook just as the lunch bell rang.

When Missy stood up to leave, Ms. Jameson motioned for Missy to come to her desk. Missy thought for sure she was about to get a lecture on daydreaming in class. Instead, Ms. Jameson said,‘‘I hope you’re planning to come to the math club meeting after school on Monday, Missy! We could really use your skills on the team.”

“Oh,” Missy said, “I’m still thinking about it.’ Missy didn’t want to disappoint Ms. Jameson, but there was no way she would be joining math club. Missy was certain that would permanently tag her as a super geek. Missy fidgeted with her pack, said goodbye and slipped out of the room.

She scrambled through the crowded hallway dodging people making their way back to their lockers in order to get to the cafeteria as quickly as she could without breaking the school’s no-running-in-the-halls rule. The more she thought about it, the happier she was. Math club would be impossible to attend because she committed to the fashion club and they met at the same time. That was her out—a scheduling conflict! Missy was relieved that she now had a great excuse.

When she arrived, the line for hot lunch at the cafeteria counter already wound its way back and around the turnstile. So Missy opted for a cold lunch and picked up a pre-made sandwich and a bag of fruit crisps. She swiped her cafeteria card at the register and headed toward the table where she could see the others were already gathering.

Morgan caught up to her and touched her arm to get her attention. “Hey, Miss! | was just talking to Ms. Jameson. | think I’m going to go to the math club meeting on Monday, and split my time so | can also go to the fashion club meeting. You wanna join me?”

“What?” Missy asked. “Uh. No. | don’t think so,” she stammered suddenly feeling panicked that her great excuse might not be so great after all.

The girls made their way around the maze of cafeteria tables and settled at the one that Danny had reserved with his backpack, both of his shoes and his sweatshirt. Missy and Morgan sat on the long bench opposite Danny, AJ and Mahdavi who were already seated at the table. Missy pinched her nose and picked up one of Danny’s shoes by the laces. She passed it across the table to him. “Thanks for saving us seats,” she said in a nasally voice.

“Sure thang, y’all. It was my pleasure,” Danny said with a southern accent that always made Missy smile. Danny started at CHAPS in sixth grade. His family had moved from South Carolina where he had been home-schooled. He was tall for his age with a mop of dark brown hair cut fashionably floppy, copying all the current teen icons. He had tested up a year. So, even though he was barely eleven, Danny had been placed into sixth grade. Danny seemed to love CHAPS and all his classes. Missy liked how he wanted to meet everyone and try everything. When Missy had asked Danny about his accent, he exclaimed, “That’s no accent. That’s just southern charm.”