Third Roots and Personal Finance

I had an eye-opening conversation with my sixteen-year-old on the drive home from high school the other day. (No, he doesn’t have his license yet. Yes, he’s working on it—slowly. Kids these days, right?)

He’s a junior taking Personal Finance this semester. As we talked, it hit me—yet again—that our high schools aren’t doing enough to prepare teenagers for the real world. The course likely covers the basics: checking and savings accounts, maybe a unit on budgeting to avoid spending more than you earn. Useful? Sure. Sufficient? Not even close.

Personal finance shouldn’t be a one-semester elective tucked away in junior or senior year. It should be mandatory for every student, at least a full year, and it should go much deeper. Teach credit cards as what they really are: borrowed money you must repay—with interest. Introduce the stock market: explain stocks, bonds, dividends, capital gains, losses. Let students run a simulated portfolio or fantasy stock game to learn research, risk, and patience (not day-trading fantasies, but real lessons in volatility).

Once we're there, keep going. Cover 401(k)s, Roth and traditional IRAs, employer matches, compound interest. Show them why saving early matters and how living within (or below) your means builds freedom. The goal isn’t just “get a job.” It’s to understand that a job funds the life you actually want.

Instead, we spend four years drilling math—algebra, geometry, maybe pre-calc or calc for some—including useless questions like “What’s the third root of 27?” (It’s 3, by the way.) As a Gen Xer, I don’t recall learning cube roots in school, and I’ve certainly never needed them in 30+ years of adult life. Sure, foundational math matters: algebra and geometry build logic, pattern recognition, and problem-solving. But we don’t need to treat every student like a future mathematician or engineer.

Not everyone will use advanced math daily. Some will. Most won’t.

This isn’t really a math rant—the same goes for writing essays or multiple years of biology classes. It's a call for balance. Lay the foundation of necessary knowledge, then build on that with tangible information, not just more of the same.

We should prioritize extended education in real-world skills that everyone will use for decades. Expose students to personal finance because it will shape their entire adult lives. Teach basic computer science and programming so they can understand—not just use—the apps and software that run their world.

Remember middle-school Home Economics? Mine taught baking, sewing, basic nutrition. Those classes have largely vanished in many districts. Why not revive and modernize the concept? Call it “Home Systems” or “Practical Living”: cover the essentials of how a house works—framing, plumbing, electrical, HVAC. Have students sketch blueprints, design a dream home (anonymized, of course), and understand maintenance costs. It’s empowering, practical knowledge. Put them in a strong position to own and maintain a house—and teach them about renting while you're at it. Give them a good comparison to make an educated choice that makes sense to them as they grow and eventually leave to live on their own.

Here’s a concrete proposal: Dedicate the first two years of high school to building strong foundations—math, science, reading, writing—building on elementary and middle school. Then shift the final two years toward a broad menu of electives. Let students explore potential paths: advanced math for those who love it, deeper literature or writing, finance, coding, trades, health sciences, business, design, or even modernized “home systems.” No one is locked out of college-prep tracks, but no one is forced into them either. College (or trade school) is far too expensive and too late to figure out your direction without prior exposure.

With this structure, students might still take Pre-Calc or AP English if they’re passionate. But we’d stop requiring third roots for everyone and start seeding real-world relevance.

The result? More eighteen-year-olds entering college, trade programs, or the workforce with clearer purpose.

It’s tough enough at that age to answer “What do you want to do for the rest of your life?” without relevant knowledge to inform the decision.

Not every high school could implement this overnight. It might require hiring specialists in niche areas or partnering with community colleges and local trades. Some districts already offer half-day technical programs—this would complement, not replace, them.

Every plan has flaws, but good ones start with a draft. In my career as a software engineer, the best designs always began on a whiteboard: sketch it out, let the team poke holes, iterate until it’s solid. That’s what this is—a conversation starter.

Because without the conversation, we’ll keep teaching third roots to every kid, whether they’ll ever need them or not—while skimping on the skills that actually shape their futures.

What do you think? Would a rebalanced high school curriculum like this make a difference? I’d love to hear your take.