X Who? My Personal Math Quest

"D" is for DONE

2009-05-15T16:07:00.003-07:00

OK, I finished Math 112, college algebra.

Believe it or not, I enjoyed the class and am glad I took it. I got my first "D" in about 40 years, but that is fine (good for humility and when my students complain about getting a "B" I can just smile inside).

I guess I bombed the final. If I had gotten a "C" in the final, my grade for the course would have also been a "C". Didn't happen. I thought I had done an adequate job "reverse engineering" enough of the multiple choice questions, but it didn't happen.

Still, I feel good about how much I did learn. I am confident that I could have gotten 100% on the final if it were an open book test. I couldn't say that back in August when I signed up for that first Pima College class. It was all Chinese to me back then. And a reason I feel good about that is that no one remembers any of this stuff anyway. Most people can't. Plus, when it really matters, I think it's irresponsible to rely on your memory for stuff anyway.

I was talking with my cousin Joel who is a senior engineer and project manager at Boeing in L.A. When I rattled off some of the stuff we were going through in Math 112, he said he couldn't do any of that stuff by memory. I'm OK with knowing the language and having enough knowledge to go through a book or some documentation if I need to solve a problem. Or, even more important, be able to intelligently interview someone who does use all this stuff.

I'll have more reflections in a future post, but for now I want to share with you a letter I wrote to Prof. Reyes about the class and my current (still evolving) thoughts about math education. I sent this letter by email earlier today:

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Dear Steve,

I want to thank you for a good class and tell you how impressed I was with you as a teacher.

Over the years, I have taken a lot of classes at this university and have rarely experienced a teacher as prepared, organized, and professionalas you. You are really impressive and a credit to the Math Department and the whole university.

Even though, in my case, algebra didn’t click as well as I would have liked, having been in your class this semester has made me a better teacher and has made me appreciate math even more. At the same time, going through Math 112 has allowed me to think a lot about education in general and math education in particular.

I hope you will allow me to share some thoughts that are intended in a positive way to stimulate some discussion if you ever serve on curriculum development committees that consider these things. (And, of course given my grade in the course, you might just dismiss my impressions as those of a disgruntled student. However, there is a difference between a poor student and a disgruntled student. I am not disgruntled. I am grateful for the opportunity to have been exposed to the many new things I learned in your class).

Fairness

I really believe that the course was more than fair to students.

Any student willing to put in the time should be able to pass this course at either the A or B level. The necessary skills are simply mechanical and learning them is a matter of concentrated repetition. The handouts were well done and the way you walked the class through the problems was straight forward.

One of the hardest things for my own journalism students to grasp is how much work it takes to do anything really well. I stress that over and over and when I bring speakers into my classroom, they also stress that. Some of the students begin to absorb that eventually.

Textbook/workbook/web assign

I believe the textbook was weak. There are better tools for learning available, some currently being used at Pima College. I hope someone would look into other options such as the Bittinger series that includes extensive online support, CDs, online video instruction, and hundreds of online exercises. I found WebAssign to be a fairly useless learning tool. It may be an adequate assessment tool for you and the other instructors. For many students, it was unfortunate and disheartening that they were led to buy the workbook and answer book and those were not used. It is not that much of an issue for me, but for many students every $20 or $40 matters a lot. Having students purchase materials that don’t necessarily advance their educational goals signals that the faculty really isn’t “on their side.” Not a good thing.

On Math Education (my son disagrees with me about most of what follows)

I ran into an old friend of mine who is in the UA’s nursing Ph.D. program. We spoke about classes and her program generally. And I told her about my taking math 112. She was supportive and asked what kind of things I was learning. I went through the litany of kinds of new things we were getting into and when I got to dividing polynomial functions she finally stopped me, somewhat incredulous, and asked, “Don’t they have machines that do those things these days?”

She then went on to tell me about some of the sophisticated statistical modeling she was getting into and about how she and her cohort were being taught to use all of the most recent tools to solve problems. “Why aren’t they doing that with you?” she asked me.

I think she has a point.

Students in one of the courses I teach produce an online publication called Border Beat. It is viewed by people in all 50 states and (so far) 30 different countries. It has won national and regional awards.

The students learn and use several state of the art video, audio, and photo editing programs in addition to the content management system that controls the site. I don’t take a minute of their time to lecture about the underlying code. It simply doesn’t matter. It helps if they know about five HTML tags, but that’s all.

What does matter is that they can visualize how they want to present a multimedia story to the world and use the tools available to them (Final Cut Pro, Photoshop, Audacity, Joomla, Dreamweaver, etc.) to get it done.

What does this have to do with math 112?

In my blog about my math adventure, I posted this about two weeks ago: “A Kino Bay neighbor, an engineer, told me, ‘Math is a tool. Nothing more,nothing less.’

I didn't want to believe him. I wanted math to be poetry. If it was poetry, I didn't get to see it. I saw tools. I think my neighbor was right.”

Although I don’t have survey data to support this assertion, it seems to me that math 112 will be the last math course many of these students will take for the rest of their lives. If that is the case, I think we are doing them a disservice by focusing on the underlying mechanics rather than the actual use of math as a tool that can solve problems. It seems that apart from the mental calisthenics (that might be useful for people like me who are pushing 60) there is no reason to ask a 19 year old to take the time to learn (for a semester) how to derive square roots or divide polynomials manually. As my friend said, “There are machines that do that these days.”

The idea that math departments across the country refuse to allow lower level math students to use any tool available to solve problems feels a little nutty. I really don’t get it. No matter what math education theorists might say, it doesn’t seem intuitive that working through the underlying math is a necessary precondition to be able to use applications on Matlab or even pre-programmed handheld calculators. When I went through my MBA, students spent useful time learning how to use tools from the still great HP 12C business calculator to fancy forecasting software.

Today, there just isn’t enough time to learn it all.

If we had taken the time to learn how to manipulate logs by hand, we never would have been exposed to the many ways to solve real problems using today’s technology.

In my world (journalism education) we spend time talking about how necessary it is for students to know grammar. We are even discussing requiring a one-unit class in grammar. There are faculty members who insist that a student needs to know the mechanics of "adverb clause devices" and "subordination by appositives" and "choosing modifiers after sense verbs" before they can be a credible journalist.

Well, it turns out, that simply isn’t true in real life, or even the classroom.

A person’s ear for English is in tune or it’s not. A reporter is curious or she’s not. The person values the truth or they don’t. The reporter can feel empathy or not. When a junior wrote a story about a 20 year old man who was suffering emotionally because the young woman who he impregnated choose to have an abortion rather than let him raise the child, it really didn’t matter whether she could on a test, differentiate between “reflexive, intensive, demonstrative, and possessive pronouns.”

On the other hand . . .My son Seth, who has taught pre-calc/trig, at University High all year points out to me that my assumptions are wrong – he says that many of my classmates will go on in math and they absolutely do need to know what’s going on from a math point of view. He also says that there is no way that an individual could be even an accountant, much less an engineer or scientist, without being completely comfortable with logs and functions and the rest. He also kinda accused me of being “elitist” by assuming that most students have the opportunity to take college level math in high school. He says that is not the case, and the UA is right to provide students with the kind of math that allows them to continue rather than assume that it is “terminal” course.

In any event, I am so happy that I had the chance to take your class and will always value the time I put into it and be grateful for the time and energy that I know you devoted.

As I mentioned in class, please don’t take my grade as a reflection on your teaching at all. I think you are an excellent teacher and I’m glad I lucked out and landed in your section.

Best wishes to you and good luck where ever your future takes you. I hope to see you around and just visit some day.

Sincerely,

Jay M. Rochlin, Ph.D.
Assistant Professor of Practice
School of Journalism
University of Arizona

Final Monday

2009-05-10T09:26:00.002-07:00

I can't make myself study for Monday's final.

It is scheduled for Monday between 8 a.m. and 10 a.m., but I hit the wall two weeks ago.

Yesterday I tried to spend some time going over study aids and practice tests. Pretty futile. I have learned more algebra than I thought I could, but I've also forgotten a lot already. I suppose it could come back if I put in the time. But my mind and my motivation seem to have moved on already.

On Wednesday, Prof. Reyes handed out individual stats letting students know where they are in terms of points. Before the final, I'm teetering between a C and a D. If I do well on the final I get a C. If I do poorly (likely) I'll get a D.

Before a student can be admitted to the School of Journalism they must pass this math course or a similar one with a B or better. Friday night at a School awards ceremony I was given the incredible honor of being named "Teacher of the Year" for our J-school. I was (am) grateful and honored and somewhat embarrassed, but still couldn't help but think for a moment how curious it is that I get to be an award winning professor in the School but wouldn't be accepted into the program as a sophomore.

The math test is multiple choice. I should have absorbed enough to be able to get through at least part of the test by reverse engineering it. We'll see.

I feel for the kids who have to pass this course. There is a lot to learn and if they were good at it they wouldn't be in this class in the first place. They would have had this as sophomores or juniors in high school. At the same time, if they are willing to take the time, there isn't much of an excuse not to pass. Between the study guides and the in-class handouts, the whole final is there. And, I am convinced that it's not a matter of brains, it's a matter of reps. If a student puts in the time, he or she can pass this class with an A or a B. But, as I'm demonstrating myself, putting in the time is easier said than done. There is almost always something better to do than solve math problems for practice.

For example, I rode my bike to the top of Mt. Lemmon with about 2oo other crazies on Friday. Way better than sitting at my dining room table figuring out functions.

My own journalism students don't get it about how much work it takes to do anything really well. But I imagine they all have things they'd rather be doing also. I hope my assignments for them are things they think are worth their time. Last night I saw Ira Glass at the UA Centennial Hall. One of the things he spoke about was how incredible difficult it was to find people to feature on This American Life. The producers might talk to 50 people and begin working on stories and interviews with 10 or more and complete all the work on five just to come up with the two or three that are actually broadcast. And, if you don't put in the time, it just won't be all that good.

So this phase of my math adventure is about to end and the results, at least measurable results, won't be that good. And I wonder whether that is OK.

My friend Keith (who does just about everything well) was being a good friend and feeling bad for me for my poor performance. For him, to do something (anything!) less than excellent is to fail. He was concerned that I might be depressed or unhappy as a result of probably getting a D in algebra. I don't know whether he believed me when I told him that I was fine with it. I enjoyed the ride and it was worth it and the grade I received or even the level of excellence I attained, really didn't matter to me. The process was worth it and I'm glad I did it. And even if I fail math, they're not going to take away my Ph.D. or fire me from my teaching job and Gail and Seth will still love me.

At the same time, Keith did make me think about whether I should be more concerned about doing well for the sake of doing well. My yoga teacher quoted a teaching that said, "How you do anything is how you do everything." I don't think I believe that, but it makes me think anyway.

Keith didn't ride to the top of Mt. Lemmon on Friday, partly because he didn't believe he was in shape or the right frame of mind to do well. I did ride to the top and had a great experience even though I was one of the last guys up the mountain and one of the last guys down.

Anyway, the algebra final is Monday and I've enjoyed the ride.

I'll report back.

A Success and a Failure

2009-05-02T09:36:00.003-07:00

Since my last post I've had two quizzes. I passed one with a much higher grade than I expected, 79 out of 100. The other, which I took yesterday, I know I failed.

I hit the wall at logs.

I can't tell for sure whether it is simply my own lack of capacity or the failure to put in the time, but manipulating logarithms is simply not clicking for me. I'm finding that a little sad because I remember in 7th grade, when I was a potential math wiz, I was excited to learn how to multiply and divide using logs.

In any event, I can feel that my two-semester romance with algebra is coming to an end. Every time I try to make myself try to study for the May 11 final, I find something more important that has to get done -- grade my own students' papers, review Border Beat stories, start to learn Joomla for next semester. Or, even better, take a bike ride to train for BTC or RAGBRAI.

I'm glad to took these two courses and don't regret any of the time I put into studying. I've learned a lot about algebra and lots of other things.

Here are some thoughts I have about the enterprise:

Learning math at this level is a function of time and practice, not brains. It's all mechanical. You learn the steps and do them. Some people can learn the steps faster than others, but ultimately, it's just steps. I don't know yet whether that changes the higher you go in math.

Even though Steve Reyes, my teacher, is very good, except for the use of calculators, it feels like the the University of Arizona classroom experience is much like what it would have been in 1955 or 1963. I was disappointed that the UA is not taking advantage of some of the wonderful computer video and animation teaching tools that are available, tools that Pima College does provide for their students.

A Kino Bay neighbor, an engineer, told me, "Math is a tool. Nothing more, nothing less." I didn't want to believe him. I wanted math to be poetry. If it was poetry, I didn't get to see it. I saw tools. I think my neighbor was right.

Fantasizing about the Math book for Journalists was fun. But it didn't meet any one of my three criteria for taking on that kind of a project. If I were to commit to writing a book it would need to satisfy one (more is better, but at least one) of the following conditions: 1) It would be amusing and fun as a project for its own sake, like making a painting that you'll never sell; 2) It would do some good for other people, satisfy a need, or help make the world a better place; or 3) It would make a lot of money, or at least some. The Math book for Journalists didn't pass.

My plan is to take the final, but not to put too much time into studying for it. Then I will make what, for the time being, will be a final entry in this blog, and then move into whatever I want to put energy into next.

But right now, I need to read the final stories that my students in my feature writing class wrote.

The Adventure Winding Down (I think)

2009-04-11T10:23:00.002-07:00

Dear Steve,

(who, according to Justin, is a skinny kid from Cambridge who is "acquiring a bunch of science credits from Columbia via their post-back program.")

Thanks for reading my blog and sorry I haven't posted for awhile. Whats going on is that I hate blogs that are mainly whining. I like blogs, like WPM, that tell real stories about real people and real things and stuff that happen in real places. I thought my math adventure might be like that, but so far, for me at least, it hasn't.

I'm still enjoying learning new things, but haven't figured out how to write about them. Like, how would you tell Justin how cool it is to create an exponential function that will let you create a graph of a catenary. Or how slick "e", the Euler number is?

My teacher is still very good. No complaints at all. What I think I was looking for was something like "the aesthetics of math" or just, as trite and unrealistic as it sounds, some kind of truth and beauty. Well, not yet. Most likely, maybe never.

There are about four more weeks left in the semester. There is a test this Friday and the final around May 9. I'm likely going to get a passing grade for the class, but that never mattered, but it is nice. I'm probably not going to take the next class, trig, because my own teaching load is cranking back up next school year and I want to do a better job for my students. Also, there are too many other things to learn.

I imagine these couple of algebra classes I have taken have been good mental calisthenics. Plus I really "get it" about how compound interest and half-lives work, but I can't honestly say the the end result was worth the investment in time I have made so far. On the other hand, the process probably was worth it. Like going on a great bike ride. The finish is fine, but the ride through beautiful mountains and along rivers with changing leaves is what it is really all about.

One way I can tell I am winding down is that I am sitting here typing rather than diving into inverse functions. Another part of the reason I haven't posted was because if I had some "math time" I would want to study rather than write this blog.

One thing that I have learned is that learning math takes time. Lots of time. Just like music or writing or sports or anything. I tell my own students that they can't possible write a good story on their first try and easily. Pros can't, so why should they be able to. I can tell I haven't put in nearly enough time, even though Seth can't believe how much time I do put in. I still would like to try calculus and have a feel for it. But that's not going to happen yet. I certainly have a lot of respect and admiration for people who can do this stuff. But I still wonder whether they see "larger" things that I can't, or if they put in the time to learn the mechanics. You probably have a better feel for that than I do.

I can tell that I'm rambling but I did want to post again. Right now I need to switch focus and learn how to "find the inverse of a function with a restricted domain."

Still Counting

2009-03-16T20:55:00.002-07:00

Still Counting

I haven’t posted for about three weeks, but I am still studying and even learning some new things.

Since my last post I’ve thought a lot about wanting to quit this whole enterprise and re-focus on teaching, photography, and bicycling – with some music, writing, and hiking thrown in. But I’m hanging in there.

We had our second test last week. Steve provided the class with an abundance of study aids. As I began to look the material over I got discouraged because I couldn’t believe how much I had forgotten during the three or four weeks since the last exam. The stuff just wasn’t sticking.

As I approached the first test I told myself that I might quit the class if I got a “D”. This time I was pretty sure I would get an “F” but wasn’t convinced I should drop, no matter how tempting. Since my grade doesn’t matter at all, I thought if I stayed in the class for as long as I could understand the lectures and still do the homework, some information might seep in and if I took the class again (like many of my classmates were) then I might have a better shot at passing.

After Steve passed out the test (I got the blue version) I looked over the problems and pretty quickly figured out which I could do, which I could guess on, and which I didn’t have any chance of getting even any partial credit on for a good try that was at least in the right direction.

As I got into the test, some things started coming back to me and so did some numerical intuition that seems to be growing, if ever so slightly

When Steve handed the tests back, I was amazed to see that I had gotten a 71, just barely in “C” range. As it turned out, a whole lot of my educated guesses were right on target. I was also somewhat encouraged that many of the points I lost were for pretty silly things that I could have done, things like naming units instead of just writing down the numerical answer. OK, it looks like I’m still in.

But a whole lot of my classmates aren’t. Monday, the day after Steve handed back the test was the last day to drop a class with a “W” rather than stay in and risk an “F” or a “D”. By Wednesday, our class size had fallen to 22 from 35.

A new word

One of the best parts of this math adventure is learning new things I wouldn’t have otherwise, frequently not about math at all.

Last week, I learned the word: equitation.

I learned that word because the girl that sits next to me just won a national competition in “Hunter Class: Equitation.” She is a national class Arabian Horse rider. From what I could tell, it has a lot to do with how you and your horse look as you ride around the circuit.

I need to add her to the list of people who, when they feel comfortable enough, immediately ask (about this math quest), “Why ARE you doing this?”

Steady as She Goes

2009-02-21T15:09:00.002-07:00

Earlier this week I was pretty much over my head.

We moved into an area that has to do with manipulating functions in terms of each other – adding, subtracting, multiplying and then dividing functions by functions. And on top of that, we started solving functions “in terms of” other functions.

I didn’t know what that stuff meant either only five days ago.

I struggled with the textbook and just couldn’t get past the language. I’d start reading and simply get lost. I’d see the words and numbers but they just didn’t make sense.

All of which got me thinking about my own approach to teaching.

I try to get my students to “jump in now” and start doing journalism, especially multimedia journalism. I (along with millions of 20 and unders and not a lot of over 40s) am convinced that you can’t learn Photoshop or Final Cut Pro or any complicated piece of software by watching some expert demonstrate tools on a video projector and lecture about techniques. You gotta do it with your own hands and fingers and make mistakes and try again until it gets into your muscles.

Seth tells me that’s how it works in sports. Reading might be good for motivation, but a chapter in a book is probably not going to help you two-putt as much as getting on the green for 200 strokes a day.

I think the same is true for math. Watching even a very good teacher such as Steve takes you only so far (not very). It takes reps for the ideas to begin to sink in.

I didn’t used to believe that.

Back when I cared about playing music, especially recorder or clarinet, rather than practice, I’d read books. I read about the clarinete’s history and construction. I became an expert on the different woods that a craftsman could make a recorder out of. I knew the attributes of rosewood, ebony, and boxwood. I took a course about music theory at the University of Arizona and got an “A” (one of my few). But I never got very good at either clarinet or recorder. When I should have been practicing an A minor scale or learning how to improvise by memorizing chord progressions, I was reading an article or listening to a lecture.

Photography was different. I got out in the field and took pictures. Thousands and thousands of them. And, amazingly, I got better and better. Portraits, landscapes, sunsets, still lifes. I used all kinds of formats. Large format, 2 ¼, 35mm, minox, and digital. Now I give lectures about photography to people who ought to be out shooting instead of sitting in a fancy meeting room listening to me talk about taking pictures.

Which brings me back to math.

I was saved once again by the online math program from last semester’s course through Pima Community College, mathxl.com.

The access to the program that came with last semester’s book gave me a full year's access to all the textbooks the site serves and its supporting online exercises, videos and animations.

I found an equivalent level textbook, signed on to it, and started doing my “reps.”

At first I let the program walk me through solving the problems, then I was able to do more on my own. In not too much time I was actually beginning to “get it” enough to be able to tackle this week’s homework assignments. Even the book began to get a little bit more comprehensible. For the first time in at least a couple of weeks, I’m feeling somewhat encouraged.

It felt good to look at the homework assignments in the book and reflect back only a week to where I didn’t know even how to begin to approach solving a single one. Now I’ve done them all, mostly correctly, and sorta get what’s going on.

The skills might not stick, but that’s a story for another time.

Hint Hint

2009-02-10T20:32:00.002-07:00

I got a kick out of this email that Stphen Reyes sent to my Math 112 class today:

Class,
This is just a reminder that the last day to drop a course without record of enrollment is today (Tues Feb 10). You can drop via WebReg. Some of you *may* want to consider this option especially with the first test now behind us.

Also, I will be in my office today from 1:30pm to 3pm for those wanting to discuss this. I have the last two homeworks graded if you'd like to pick those up and could also show your grade in the course thus far. I will be distributing print-outs of grades on Wednesday if you'd rather wait.

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Okey Dokey. I'm still in. And in good part, thanks to Seth, I think I'm getting the next section about how graphs of functions move up or down or left or right or compress up or down or left or right.

I'm interested to see how many of my classmates took Steve up on his "suggestion."

Barely

2009-02-09T20:36:00.002-07:00

I passed the first test, barely.

My deal with myself was that if I got an F I would drop. If I got a C I would stay. If I got a D, I'd need to decide.

Poor Steve Reyes the teacher didn't look good when class began today. He hadn't shaved and his eyes looked glassy. He started class by telling us what a terrible weekend he had between having a bad cold and spending the whole weekend grading bad homework and even worse tests. He spent the next fifteen minutes discussing how he didn't understand how poorly so many of us had done. As I glanced around at other students' tests I saw scores ranging from the mid 80s to the low 20s. The girl who sits next to me who hopes to be a physiologist got in the mid 70s.

I got a 62, two points above failing.

I was surprised that I wasn't even tempted to quit.

Now I have a chance to once again be my class's most improved player.

But what I found even more encouraging was that I actually understood how I messed up and basically understood everything on the test, even thought my score didn't show that. Also, Steve took off points for some petty "Mickey Mouse" things. I figured out one answer and wrote $4100. The answer for full credit was "$4100 in taxes." What the heck?

I got no credit at all for that problem about the rectangle and the wall and the fence that I mentioned in the last blog. Zero. But I worked through it on my own at home. I brought it to class and Steve said I did it exactly right. He also asked why I didn't do it that way on the test. OK, so now I feel better about that even thouth on the test I clicked that 240 was peremiter rather than area.

Tonight Seth showed me a bunch of good things to know about how to manipulate graphs. I think I have a head start on that and am ready to tackle the next homework assignments.

Students tell me that Math 112 has the highest flunk rate of any course at the University of Arizona. I haven't checked that out but wonder if it's true. I also wonder whether students will drop after seeing their test results today.

I'm still in.

Useful Lecture from a Former Student

2009-02-08T20:42:00.002-07:00

Dave Robbins could have put this in comments. Maybe he didn't want you to see his note, but I do.

By the way, he has a terrific blog called "Talking to Strangers." Worth checking out and reading.

Here's what Dave taught his former professor today:

Jay,I just read your latest blog post.

I wanted to comment on the line, "I'm not experiencing a sense of wonder that I could share. I'm experiencing a sense of plodding that I don't imagine a lot of people want to read about."

You're right. No one wants to read about plodding. That's why plodding,suffering and struggle NEVER appear in art. It is the reason why Blues music was never invented, and Shakespeare's Sonnet #30 was never written.

Wait... what? That doesn't make any sense.

What good would a book about learning be if the protagonist never once wanted to quit? Where would be the dramatic ark? Why would the climax be satisfying if it took no effort to get there?

You find me a book where the main character never once suffers - and I'll find you a book that never got published.

What's inspiring about your blog is that it's about a distinguished academic struggling with the same things us lowly undergrads have to struggle with. I don't know how many of your classmates are reading - but how much of a relief do you think that would be to them if they read it and though "Oh... well if he's struggling - I guess I'm not the only one.

"Hang in there, and keep writing about it. It's not suppose to be easy - that's why it's worth reading.

-Dave

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Dave was a member of the Border Beat staff last semester. If you go there and click on "archive" at the bottom, you can find some of the good stories he created.

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About Friday's math test. I'm pretty sure I passed. Barely.

I messed up the final question. It went sort of like this:

A rectangle has an area of 240 square yards. You need to build a wall around it and a fence across the length in the middle. The wall costs $5 a yard and the fence costs $8 a yard. Find a function in terms of the length of the fence determine the dimensions that will cost the least.

I got started by confusing the area with the perimeter and it went down hill from there.

I worked on the problem tonight and think I solved it. I'll ask tomorrow before I find out my score for the test.

On the Edge

2009-02-05T20:12:00.002-07:00

It's been awhile since I've posted. This math thing has really slowed down. Some stuff just isn't clicking.

Our first test is tomorrow morning. If I get a C or better I'm staying for sure. If I get an F, I'll probably drop and try again later. If I get a D, I don't know.

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Good things

1. Steve Reyes is a really good teacher. I am impressed at how much he seems to care about doing well, his grasp of the material, and ability to walk a classroom full of math aptitude deprived 18-yea- olds and me through some very complex ideas. Complex to us at least.

I'm also impressed with Steve as a person. He's 28 and is teaching at the UA with only a bachelor's degree. I don't know whether it is in math, math/education, or what, but that's as far as he's gone so far. Steve graduated from Cholla High School in Tucson as valedictorian and is the first member of his family to graduate from college.

Because he is the exact kind of person I was interested in when I wrote my book, I thought he might like to read it, so I gave him a copy. I hope he has a chance to look at it.

2. I now know how to do things in algebra and with functions that I couldn't imagine knowing how to do less than six months ago. In fact, I can do things that I didn't even know existed less than half a year ago. That feels good.

Bad things

1. I'm spending way too much time studying for the amount it seems that I am learning. Seth assures me that no one in my class is putting in as much time and he may be right. So, I don't know whether it's because it's getting harder or what, but I'm thinking that I ought to be spending less time staring at equations and functions in a book or on a comoputer screen and more time working on my classes that I teach and on photography and my own writing and on my bicycle training for the Bicycle Tour of Colorado and RAGBRAI.

2. I'm not seeing a book or even a good article in this pursuit right now. I'm not experiencing a sense of wonder that I could share. I'm experiencing a sense of plodding that I don't imagine a lot of people want to read about. My best case outcome or climax would be passing a course in calculus at the UA or Pima College some day. That is a feat that probably hundreds of thousands of high school juniors and seniors accomplish every year. It's possible the "wonder" and "insights" come later, once I've learned the language. I'm still holding out hope.

3. I am surprised that the textbook and the online support offered by Pima College is far superior to that offered by the UA. As good as Steve is as a teacher, I'm thinking that I should have enrolled in the equivalent College Algebra course at Pima College. Because of the book's online tutorials and exercises, tt's better, at least for me.

-----------------------------------------

I'll report back on my test.

Starting Math 112

2009-01-19T10:23:00.003-07:00

Math 112 met in room 304 of the University of Arizona Modern Languages Building. It struck me as I walked into the classroom that it has been about 37 years since I took a class there.

Professor Stephen Reyes was already in the classroom and most of the seats were already taken. I sat down toward the front of the room on the right as I faced the front.

I noticed that there was an American flag on the wall and the same copy of the U.S. constitution that had been posted in my last classroom. That made me wonder whether there was some kind of mandate that required those objects to be displayed and whether the School of Journalism was in violation.

The classroom actually looked modern. The white boards all around the room were clean and there were plenty of markers in various colors in the trays attached to the boards. And there was a computer terminal on the desk up front. Did I land in a 21st century classroom?

There are 35 students enrolled in the class, mostly women, all except for me, about 18 or 19 years old.

AT 11 a.m. sharp Prof. Reyes started class.

I don't know anything about him yet, but Reyes is listed as a full time instructor, rather than either a graduate teaching assistant or professor. He looks like a newly minted Ph.D. in his late 20s. I found myself imagining Seth in his position in just a few years.

He spoke slowly and softly and was organized and professional. It was beginning to feel like I lucked into a good class.

He conducted a roll call, went through his syllabus, and moved right into material. "What exactly is a function?" he asked. And students actually raised their hands, suggested answers, and the class began.

Dustin Seplow

2009-01-15T19:08:00.002-07:00

About two years ago I had the pleasure of meeting Dustin Seplow. Right now, he is a senior in the NYU Journalism Department. During the brief time we visited I was impressed by how he thought and what he said.

Dustin has been a regular reader of this blog and follower of my adventure in mathland.

I was happy yesterday to receive an email from him. He said some good things that I want to share with you.:

---------------------------------------

"After months of reading your blog and occasionally commenting under the guise of 'Anonymous' I received an email that immediately prompted me to write you.

"As a senior in the NYU journalism school I am continually bombarded with announcements of class openings and closings. This particular notice caught my eye as it pertains to a topic that you have encouraged me to think about recently, the role of mathematics in journalism and the events it covers.

*JOURNALISM BY THE NUMBERS *

The aim of this course is to give you tools that will make you a better journalist. These are tools that few journalists have and many are afraid of—mathematical tools.

This course will center upon mathematical ideas, but this will still be a journalism class.

The mathematical concepts will be presented in a way that is accessible even to mathphobes, and abstract ideas will be pinned to real, concrete events that have caused headlines.

"I hope this can provide some encouragement to you as you continue the developmental process for your book. Perhaps one day "Journalism by the Numbers" will have some new required reading.

"As for your ponderings regarding the educational value of studying Chaucer versus the names and songs of 50 indie bands, I couldn't agree more. I don't mean to devalue the numerous lessons that one is rewarded with upon reading Chaucer. Yet, often times I cannot help but view education as something much more amorphous than it's commonly agreed upon definition.

"To me, education is nothing more than a lens. Viewing any one thing with an analytical eye leads to learning. Analyzing the separate members of any band, their motivations for playing music, their inspirations, and then the products of their collective efforts can lead to as much enlightenment as learning about a few characters' journeys to and from an English town.

"To me studying any subject, or object, in this manner is education in action. Yet, as I hope to commence on my own teaching career in the coming months I must decide whether or not my definition for education is truly accurate. It would be a great disservice to my students to forgo a system of education proven successful over many decades for the radical ramblings of my own mind.

"I think Tom Miller definitely had a point when he said, 'Geoff Chaucer has lasted more than 600 years for a reason.'

"But does something's duration of study directly correlate to its scholastic value?

"If calculus can answer a question like that, then I am prolonging graduation and signing up next semester, for I have a lot more to learn from my college years."

-------------------------------------------------------

Dustin, thanks for an insightful note. And good luck as you finish your student career at NYU and either start now or take the next steps toward a career that I'm sure will make the lives of lots of young people (and some old ones also) better.

I need to find out what book or books they are requiring for that course and also what kinds or other readings or exercises.

I also intend to let the director of our School of Journalism know that NYU is offering Math for Journalists.

--------------------------------------------------------

Math 112

I'll write about in a separate post, but I am big time impressed with Stephen Reyes, my college algebra teacher.

Quantoid

2009-01-13T20:21:00.002-07:00

I learned a new word:

"Quantoid"

My faculty colleague Kevin Kemper said that's what folks in his Ph.D. program at the University of Missouri called fellow students whose dissertations were getting too quantitative. He told me, watch out, I might become one.

Well, not yet.

------------------------------------

I got a promotional brochure in the mail the other day called "The Great Courses: Great Courses Taught by Great Professors." It was nicely produced and had some great photography in it, so I began flipping through the pages. Even though it is clearly advertising copy, these two paragraphs got my attention and made me wonder:

"One of the greatest achievements of the human mind is calculus. It deserves a place in the pantheon of our accomplishments with Shakespeare's plays, Beethoven's symphonies, and Einstein's theory of relativity.

"In fact, most of the differences in the way we experience life now and the way we experienced it the beginning of the 17th century emerged because of technical advances that rely on calculus. Calculus is a beautiful idea exposing the rational workings of the world; it is part of our intellectual heritage."

OK, I want to learn calculus. (not that I get it about either Shakespeare or Beethoven yet.)

--------------------------------------------------------------

I'm looking forward to someday studying about the random way so many things happen.

Just yesterday, I got a note from an 18 year old who was in last semester's algebra class. She sat to my right and up a row or two and came the the first half of most of the classes. She asked me about journalism classes and whether there were any that freshmen could take.

I told her that there was one that was being offered for the first time and that there might be one or two spaces still open. And she signed up. No telling if she'll like it or not or do well or not or fall in love with journalism and go on to do great things or find that she might be happier somewhere else. Time will tell.

But it kinda blows me away to know that in some small way she will be sitting in that classroom being exposed to a whole new world with a great professor partly because some guy in his 50s decided to take an intermediate algebra class that semester at that hour and happened to blog about it and she clicked on this blog and sent me an email to ask about journalism.

And that kind of stuff happens all the time.

---------------------------------------------------

Math 112, college algebra, starts for me tomorrow at 11 a.m. I'll take notes. About the algebra also.

Too Much Information

2009-01-09T14:35:00.002-07:00

All the parts are in order to get started on my next math class. The right calculator, a TI 84 platinum, silver edition. The textbook. The answer book. The work book.

I think I've got a pretty good head start. I've kind of learned the language the book uses and can do a whole lot of new stuff on the calculator that I will need.

But still. There is so much to learn.

So that got me thinking (again) about motivation.

I have myself pretty convinced, just because I decided to, that to be an educated person in the 21st century, I need to know calculus. Not for any practical reason that I know of. Just to know it. Sorta like how we are told that we need to know about Shakespeare or Plato or the Declaration of Independence.

But then I started thinking about what today might be the futility of deciding anything is something you "must know" to be an educated person. There is just too much information.

I was just over at my friend Keith's house. He just got a "wi-fi" radio that can play something like 30,000 radio stations from all over the world. It's pretty amazing and the sound is great.

And the hundreds of TV channels and billions of web pages and millions of blogs and hundreds of thousands of books and photographs and songs and subjects and subjects within subjects. Wikipedia is approaching 3 million articles. And that's only in their English version.

Doesn't it seem just a little nutty for any individual or committee to say to anyone else that "to be an educated person you must know and understand" this or this or this? Or at least arbitrary?

So, do you just pick your curiosity and go with it? If you can earn a living and help keep yourself and those around you fed, warm, and healthy, I guess, why not?

A girl in my features class last semester hadn't heard of Chaucer. My immediate reaction was surprise and even a little shock. At the same time, she could rattle off the names of 50 indy bands that I had never heard of and also describe their repertories. Way more useful to her and the people who matter to her than the Canterbury Tales.

All this got me thinking back to Viktor Frankl, his book, Man's Search for Meaning, and the whole idea of logotherapy. Is it good enough for any individual to derive meaning from anything they choose to do and find meaning in? Because you can't even begin to do or learn everything, or even imagine what everything to learn might be.

But right now, I need to learn more about functions.

Tools

2009-01-03T19:29:00.005-07:00

I was speaking with Dave Schwartz, a neighbor in Kino Bay. He is a 78 year old still working full time senior engineer. He said a couple of things I want to remember and think about.

He reiterated to me that for him, math is a tool - nothing more, nothing less. Math helps him get things done. He is an engineer to the core. I imagine most engineers are with him on that thought. I imagine (hope) that there are plenty of mathematicians who disagree. There has to be an aesthetics of math or a philosophy of math. I look forward to asking a mathematician some day.

He also told me that he thinks of math in terms of specific applications, and that most people who study advanced math, study it in terms of a specific discipline, such as physics. He seemed to say that there is a pretty good chance that the physics guy couldn't really talk to the organic chemistry guy because their math is so different. If I heard him right, Prof. Saari said just the opposite -- that one of the best reasons to study higher math is that you could converse across disciplines.

And finally Dave said that I should be thinking of what I am doing now (college algebra) as "arithmetic" rather than "math" -- that math starts with calculus. O.K., but I wonder what makes calculus, math and not algebra.

-------------------------------------

Different teacher already

I got online and discovered that the person assigned to teach the Math 112 section I signed up for has been changed. I'm now looking forward to meeting Stephen Reyes. He is a full time instructor rather than being a grad student. I suppose that's good news. We'll see.

-----------------------------------

My getting a head start on the semester is slowing down. There is too much else to read and too many pictures to take. Also, thinking about things like functions in terms of other functions and how they interact with each other is not quite making sense yet. I imagine it will. And as Gail told me, the course is not supposed to be an independent study.

Birds

2008-12-29T15:56:00.003-07:00

One of the best parts of my math journey has been the unexpected. Sometimes, related to math, often not.

The white wooden desk where I study when I'm in Kino Bay, Sonora sits is in a nook in the bedroom facing a window. It overlooks an estuary. There is a parking lot between my room and the estuary and there are a couple of poles in the lot. It feels good to be here and it is good for daydreaming and just getting generally distracted.

Yesterday I was at the desk alternating with trying to get an intuitive feel for functions and trying how to enter, graph, and interpret functions with my new TI-84 calculator when I looked out and noticed an osprey land on the pole nearest to my window. That was more interesting than f(x)=some equation with strange symbols in it.

After a few seconds, another osprey came up behind it and the first one took flight making room for the new one. Soon four osprey were playing a noisy game of musical chairs with that one pole as the prize. They circled high above the estuary, seemed to confront each other, and then one would land on the pole, just to be moved off by the next bird to take a turn.

I couldn’t tell whether it was simply a game – teenage osprey just hanging out -- or if something more violent was going on. There didn’t seem to be anything real at stake. No fish, no nest. Just fifteen or seconds of squatting rights on a random white pole in a parking lot.

After about 30 minutes and a couple of photographs, I forced myself to turn back to my algebra book. But first I wondered whether mathematicians could even begin to describe the beauty of a bird’s flight or the playful interaction I had just watched from my window. Then I thought, if they can, I want to learn how. But if they can’t, then maybe math is nothing more than a tool for engineers and accountants, a tool that I don't really need.

But then, if I hadn’t been learning about how to plot a quadratic function, I wouldn’t have seen that dance in the sky in the first place.

Here are two of the pictures I took.

Looking Ahead

2008-12-25T20:16:00.002-07:00

Even though it’s winter break, I’m already looking ahead to college algebra.

But, it took a few steps before I could get started.

First, I had to prove I was a citizen.
.
The country (and university) has gotten so nutty. Even though I was a student here nearly 40 years ago and I’ve been an employee for about 25 years and have three degrees from the school and I have been on its computer system from the time there was a computer system, I still needed to take my passport and show it to a lady in the administration building so she could tell the computer that I was a citizen and it was OK for me to take math 112 and not have to pay out of state (or country) tuition.

Then I figured out that the HP calculator that served me so well last semester wasn’t allowed this semester. It is too good. Heaven forbid that students get to use the best tool for the job. Might make us lazy. So, the calculator of choice for lower level math classes is the Texas Instruments 84+ Silver Edition. So, on to craigslist I went.

There were several to choose from. Plenty of students had just gotten their grades and were celebrating never having to take another math class by selling their TI 84s cheap. I arranged to meet Tristian at a park, just before a Hanukah party Gail and I were going to. It made me kinda nostalgic. The rendezvous at the agreed-on location, in the semi-darkness. He had the stuff. I had the cash. He had a tough looking SUV. I had my girl (Gail) in the car. Money changed hands and we left. I hadn’t done anything like that since I was sixteen.

Actually, Tristian was a nice young person who was hoping to become a math teacher some day, preferably at the college level. He had bought the calculator used from someone else and now it was my turn. He wished me good luck and I did the same to him.

The textbook, at first glance didn’t look nearly as intimidating as the text did last semester. At least now I know some of the language and have some clue about what words like functions and inequalities mean in a math environment.

Unfortunately though, this book doesn’t have any online or CD support, just a pretty crummy “solutions manual” that I bought used for $21. That is going to be a problem. Last semester, the online drills and examples and animations walking me through problems and the movies working step by step through specific problems worked wonders for me. Learning math the 19th century way I think will be a lot harder.

It surprises and disappoints me that the community college is using more modern (and beneficial) teaching techniques than my famous Research I university. And it also tells me how much trouble we’re in when the university can’t even afford computer blackboards in its math classrooms and Seth has one at the high school where he teaches.

I jumped into the first chapter and read through the first section. I thought I “got it” until I began to do some of the practice problems. I didn’t get a single one right, but did understand the solutions in the workbook. I suppose that’s something.

Why do this?

I still don’t have an answer. I wonder if I ever will. I wonder if I need to. It’s not fun, but I like it. I imagine what I am getting out of the process now feels the same as people feel when they do crossword puzzles. It feels good to get one done. And someday they will be able to move up to the Thursday puzzle from the Wednesday puzzle.

I’m still curious about what comes next and what I will learn. I like my new calculator toys and learning how they work. I really enjoy meeting people I would never have met if I didn’t enter this world. And I don’t know enough about that world to even have a guess about what doors a little knowledge of math might reveal or even open.

Beginning of Chapter Two

2008-12-21T16:34:00.002-07:00

Hello again. I've been taking a breather both from math and my own classes.

Since I last posted I did a four day three night backpack in the Grand Canyon. The trip was great, even though I had to spend 14 hours in my tent during the snow storm. And on the hike out we started in the dark in the rain which quickly turned to snow and spend the next seven hours hiking through white stuff. Before it got totally socked in about two miles from the rim, the snow covered Canyon was truly magical.

Right now, it's hard to say whether I can even claim, "one down and plenty to go. " I don't get any college credit for the course I just finished, but it did give me the ticked to enter my first ever college level math course, "College Algebra," or UA Math 112.

I did go back and forth for awhile. Next semester, in addition to teaching my own classes, I will need to get more involved in committee work.

And, I need to train for this summer's Bicycle Tour of Colorado and RAGBRAI, the ride across Iowa. Not to mention hiking, photography, other writing projects, and reading.

But still, I want to some day "get it" about calculus and other stuff.

So, I decided to commit to Math 112.

By some good luck, the section I wanted (MWF 11:00 a.m.) was still available so I signed up. Still need to pay.

My teacher is going to be Michael A. Bishop, a math doctoral student.

The textbook is College Algebra by Warren L. Ruud and Terry L. Shell. And there is a solutions manual.

When I went to buy my textbook, the cashier recognized me from the Journalism School. Turns out she is a junior journalism major named Porcha (sp?) pronounced like the car. She is of Ethiopian descent and Jewish. I can't wait to hear more about her.

The textbook publisher's name caught my eye. It is Pearson Custom Publishing. They seem to be a high class self publishing house that specializes in textbooks. I wonder whether Ruud and Shell are or were from the UA.

End of Chapter One

2008-12-05T17:02:00.002-07:00

Well, I woke up this morning to find this email note from Professor John Lapeyre waiting for me:
------------------

final 102
course 95
course A

Highest score in either section.
There was one who scored 100.
Thats serious 'most improved'.

Have fun with the rest of the semester.

Best,
John

------------------

A nice way to start the day.

I thought I had done well on the final, but not that well. O.K., so now it's on to the next class, I hope.

Reflecting back, I've enjoyed the semester a lot. Learning new things is always stimulating, but I also am grateful for the chance to meet inspiring people such as Professor Donald Saari and Dr. Jerry Droege and my many classmates.

And it really was a pleasure to have Prof. Lapeyre as a teacher. I'm sure he would rather have been just about anywhere other than in a classroom full of 18-year-olds who hate math and didn't want to be there for a second. I hope he found my presence and naive (and weird) enthusiasm to be amusing, if not refreshing.

Seth is pretty much assuring me that even though I did well enough in this class, I still may not be quite prepared for college algebra. I hope I can find out. I plan to spend a good part of Christmas break going through the lots of stuff in the text book that there wasn't time to cover during the semester.

A few catch up thoughts as this first part of my journey ends:

Students and math

The main thing I noticed about the kids in math class who weren't going to pass or were just barely going to pass is that they hadn't made the transition to realizing that their education is their responsibility, to the teacher's.

They were quick to blame John for their "not getting it." I think John did what he could. Sure, he could have been better in a whole lot of ways, but that shouldn't matter. Today, between tutoring centers at both the University of Arizona, Pima Community College, a good textbook, and CDs and an excellent Web site, the help was there.

I hope it (personal responsibility, not necessarily math) clicks for them.

The book

A funny thing happened on the way to learning high school algebra II in college. I really started to enjoy it and because I did, when I had some time, I found myself wanting to learn new math things rather than think about a book proposal or even consider the time it would take to actually write "The Minimalist Math Book for Journalists."

And, after getting a dose of reality from Lauren Miller, a former UA journalism student who is now working in both marketing and acquisitions for a textbook publishing firm in Scottsdale, I figured out that I was not that interested in performing what is essentially a labor of love, especially one that wasn't particularly needed. I'm letting that idea rest for now.

However . . .

String theory

String theory is some obscure physics idea describing sub atomic particles (or something) that is probably not true anyway.

For journalists, "string" is something completely different. String is (are?) the bits and pieces of sometimes random information or thoughts that relate to what could someday, possibly, be a book or an article.

Here's an example. Tom Miller noticed this and sent it to me.

From Jim Harrison's Returning to Earth (2007), p. 183:

Part of me was the university sophomore who reads Dostoevsky's statement "Two plus two is the beginning of death" and never gets over it.

But -- that only pulls up a few Google references.

Both are from Harrison.

The other, curiously, is from his 2005 book, True North, which has the following:

I was startled reading in a Sprague journal the quote from the Constance Garnett translation of Dostoevsky that said, "Two plus two is the beginning of death.

"Every other cite for the quote has it more benign, as I sent to you before: I admit that two times two makes four is an excellent thing, but if we are going to praise everything, two times two makes five is sometimes also a very charming little thing.

Next time I see Harrison (4:30 pm, any afternoon, The Wagon Wheel, Patagonia, on the W end of town) I'll call him on this.

Tom Miller Tucson, Arizona
www.tommillerbooks.com

---------------------------------------

So, I am collecting string.

Will it become anything? That's one thing about string. You never know, but you collect it anyway.

Final Finally Finished

2008-12-04T16:55:00.002-07:00

My intermediate algebra class is done. We had our final yesterday afternoon.

I was a little worried going into it because as I tried to study, I couldn't believe how much I could forget in only three months.

I picked a "slope" problem at random from chapter 3. I didn't know where to start. That was a little discouraging and scary, and not because of the upcoming final. So I went back to work reviewing.

That took more discipline than I thought it would. I kept lapsing back into my old standby thought that I used all during college through three degrees: "If I haven't learned it by now, I'm not going to learn it in two hours a day before the test."

So I pushed through that (many times) and reviewed.

Prof. John couldn't have made our preparation for his final easier. That, by the way, is both good news and bad news, but I'll find about that later once I'm in the next class.

All through the class he tested us on very straightforward mechanical problems. He went through problems on the board. He used many of those same problems on his short quizzes. After returning the quizzes, he went over each of those problems on the board. Then took problems from the quizzes and turned them into exams. For the final, he took problems from the exams and quizzes. And to make things even easier, he posted most of the quizzes and exams online for students to download, print, and practice with.

Still, it was hard to focus. I feel for the kids, but not that much.

I got to class about five minutes early. I forgot to count heads, but it looked like there were about 20 students taking the final, down from 30 who had enrolled. Going into the final, it seemed as if about a third of the kids were either well below or right on the edge of making a "C", the required grade to be allowed to register for College Algebra, the next course.

My young golfing buddy was in the seat next to me. I asked him to react to my thoughts that I posted here earlier.

I said, "O.K., so you're a good golfer. You didn't just get that way without a whole lot of work. You can drive a thousand balls in a morning and then do 200 chips, then hit 300 putts just to get only slightly better or stay as good as you are. You can focus and you can concentrate. Making a 12 foot putt is a ton harder than factoring an equation. What's up?"

He said, "I love golf and I hate math."

Well, O.K., where do you go from there? But I pressed him just a little anyway.

During the course of the semester, I've pretty much convinced myself that if a person, of nearly any age and without some other problems happening, was willing to put in some time, he or she could learn math, at least at this level. So, I was really curious whether he agreed with that idea and if he thought that he could do well if he choose to.

"So," I went on, "Could you flip a mental switch and tell yourself you wanted to get an "A" in the course and just do it?" His response was, "I wouldn't flip that switch. I hate math.?"

That wasn't answering my underlying question. "O.K. Suppose someone were to offer you $300,000 to pass this course with an "A". Could you do it?"

"Sure," he said without any hesitation. "Then I'd be motivated."

Just then Prof. John walked in.

He went through a whole lot of administrative announcements including when grades would be posted and then when they would be sent to the UA so we could register for Math 112, if we got a "C" or higher.

Then he announced that he needed to ask us to fill out official evaluations of him and the class. I wish we didn't have to do that. I feel bad if even one student gives me a "good" instead of an "excellent" in some category. I am sure I was the only student in the class who marked "strongly agree" with the statement: "I was really looking forward to taking this class."

Finally he passed out the final. 20 questions. I scanned the test and was relieved to recognize all of the types of problems he put on the test. As I began, I just started working my way through the equations and radicals and factoring and addition, subtraction, and multiplication and division of polynomials and 3x3 simultaneous equations and even a graphing problem. I knew how to use my fancy HP calculator and even, on checking, found some arithmetic errors and fixed them. And, when I was done, there were still five students still working on their exams. That was a first for me.

When I turned my test in, John again joked and congratulated me on being the most improved player (MIP). He might have had a point. As I looked over the test before I gave it to him, I noticed and appreciated that I may have been able to fake my way through perhaps three of the problems at the beginning of September. When I turned it in, I felt pretty positive that I would get an "A" on that final and an "A" for the course.

I'll let you know.

Putts and Properties

2008-11-27T08:53:00.003-07:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

My algebra class is winding down. We only have two more meetings. One for review. One for a final.

I'm doing fine in the course, but many of my classmates aren't. Many of them may not get the "C" required to move on the the next course, College Algebra, that is required for them to be accepted into many majors, including business.

One kid, a scholarship golfer, stopped coming. I hope he didn't drop the class. I've thought about him and learning math during the semester. I've learned, during the semester, that it is about about 100 times easier to go through the steps to factor an equation than it is to hit a 300 yard drive down middle of the fare way and probably 1,000 times easier to learn how to plug numbers into the quadratic equation than it is to sink a 12 foot putt for birdie.

But he can't seem to factor or solve for x using the quadratic equation.

Out at his country club during practice, he must drive hundreds of balls a day to get it right. He must practice his putting for hours. If he didn't, he wouldn't be capable of shooting two under, like he does.

I've learned this semester that math, at this level, is pretty much mechanical -- following a recipe. First you do this, then you do this, then you do that, and pretty soon you have an answer and you're done. I've found that to be both good news and bad news. Good news because, if I'm willing to put in the time and follow the recipe over and over I can do the stuff. Bad news because it really, so far, doesn't require any imagination, insight, or inspiration.

At the same time, I tell myself, when you are learning a new language in a classroom (rather than in a bar or in bed) learning conjugation or tenses doesn't require a lot of imagination either.

A devine intervention (real time)

It was almost as if god read the paragraph I just wrote and, through the internet, said, "Bullshit."

So, seconds ago, as I was distracting myself from writing, I clicked over to check my email. Waiting for me was a message, not there five minutes earlier (last time I checked) from Paul Niquette.

Paul is someone I've been intending to introduce you to since I began this project. He is one of the smartest and most inspirational people I'll ever meet. You can read about him on his web site and I'll tell you more during a later post.

He and I, over the years have talked about many things. Bicycling. Books. Oil. Travel. Trains. Words, and Language. But we've never talked about math. And that is something he thinks about a lot. As soon as I was done with this semester's classes, I was going to call him and ask if I could tape a conversation about math and numbers. I hope I still get to.

Minutes ago, he sent me and my family some good Thanksgiving wishes along with what looked like a news release about what he had been up to. It seems that he and his firm have been involved in passing "Measure B," a ballot measure that would increase the sales tax to support the "Silicon Valley Rapid Transit Corridor through 2036." It needed to pass by a 2/3 majority (and did).

He included a teaser with his news -- a word problem. Here it is:

"On November 18th, 612,ooo votes had been counted, and barely 66.67% were in favor of Measure B. However, there were still 9,800 votes left to count. According to the last report on November 25th, Measure B was declared to have passed with 66.78% of the votes. What is the largest possible number of uncounted ballots?"

I decided to tackle the problem. So, with only a little help from Gail, I figured out that there could be as many as 2582 ballots left uncounted for the measure to have passed by 66.78%. And I couldn't believe I did the problem with just a little imagination, some insight, and a touch of inspiration.

Seth is coming over in a few minutes. I can't wait to ask him if I got the right answer.

Math Thoughts from Jake Marcus

2008-11-23T15:32:00.002-07:00

Jake Marcus landed on this blog because his aunt Margy Rochlin told him about it.

Margy is my first cousin and a full time writer. She and I were talking about my algebra class and my blog and writing. Jake graduated from Yale in spring 2008 with a degree in math so it was natural that Margy mention my experiment.

Jake thinks about the arts and philosophy and other countries and cultures, and he thinks a lot about math.

So Jake visited here and wrote a long letter to me that I want to share parts of with you. There was a lot there, so I'll try to share only some of the highlights in bite size chunks.

Jake's words are in purple.
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Math is the product of making ideas as precise as possible.

If you take any argument and try to clarify its assumptions, define all of its terms, strengthen each step of the argument so that any one step indisputably leads to the next, then you will find yourself doing math.

What really got my attention was that Jake was thinking about "ideas and precision" rather than "counting and precision." I'm sure I can't yet appreciate what he is thinking, but I want to and I think that those couple of sentences alone might sum up a good part of my attraction to math as a subject.

One other thing Jake wrote summed up something else I've been thinking about:

A lot of the creativity in math is picking the right definition for what you are interested in exploring. Once you decide on that definition, then there is one right answer for what that definition implies. Of course, there are many ways to pick that definition in the first place, some much more reasonable than others, but no one right definition

Jake went on to make a point about precision and the importance of definitions using "volume" as an example. (Jake's writing is fairly clear, but it is still easy to get lost. I did.)

The field tends to focus on simple and idealized concepts like triangles, distance or whole numbers, because it takes so much effort to make even these deceptively simple ideas precise.

Take the concept of volume.

We all have a good idea of what volume means and sure we toss the word around idly in conversation. But what if we want to make volume precise?

We might start by looking it up in the dictionary. Merriam-Webster defines volume as the amount of space occupied by a three-dimensional object. This definition suffices for daily living, but not if we’re sticklers about it. We need a definition that will allow us to make unassailable arguments about volume and its properties.

If we use Merriam-Webster’s definition, someone will inevitably come along and question what we mean by “object” or “space” and use that ambiguity to poke holes in the arguments we try to make about, say, the volume of spheres or donuts or any manner of exotic and absurd three-dimensional shapes.

Let’s use some mathematics to think about volume.

First, decide on some reference point in your house, for example the rightmost atom on your living room sofa and assign it the numbers 0, 0, 0. Now, assign to every point in the entire universe three numbers.

The distance from your reference point walking in the horizontal direction, the distance from your reference point walking in the vertical direction and the distance from your reference point walking upwards towards the sky (imagining that you can walk that way).

Some of these numbers will be very small. You might assign the atom just to the right of your reference point, the numbers .00000001, 0, 0 and the atom just to the left of your reference point, the numbers 0, .000000001, 0 and the atom just above your reference point, 0, 0, .000000001, but you might assign the numbers 1000000, 2000000, 1000000 to some atom in your bedroom and assign some really very big numbers to the points off in far corners of the milky way.

Now we have an x-axis, a y-axis and a z-axis for the universe and can start thinking about collections of those points, or x, y and z coordinates.

The collection of all the points a distance of one or less away from the rightmost atom on your living room sofa is a sphere with a radius of one centered on that rightmost atom.

You can think about any collection of points you want. You can cut out cubes, pyramids, cylinders and cones from the earth as if you were cutting shapes out of fabric.

The question then becomes, how do we assign to each collection of points a number, called volume?

Whatever process we decide on for assigning a number (volume) to different collections of points will in effect define the concept of volume for us.

Suppose you collect some points together and they make a cube of length 2, width 3 and height 4. Then we want our process to assign the number 2x3x4 or 24 to this particular cube and to assign the product of the length, width and height to cubes in general. We can probably agree on a few other properties that our volume-assigning process must have.

There are four properties in particular that seem reasonable for our process to preserve no matter the collection of points:

1) Volume should never be negative, it should be 0, infinity or some number in between.

2) The volume of two distinct objects put together should be the sum of the volume of those two objects separated.

3) A sphere with a radius bigger than 0 should have a volume somewhere between 0 and infinity.

4) If you can make one object exactly the same as the other by rotating it or moving it around, then the volume of those two objects should be the same.

It seems like whatever process we decide on for assigning a volume to different collections of points should observe these four rules.

But here’s the punch line: no process exists that observes those four rules!

No one will ever discover one either. Mathematicians have proved that no such process can exist.

As soon as you imagine a way of assigning volume to objects that always observes one of those rules, it contradicts another. If you assume a process exists that sticks to rules 1-3, then the Banach-Tarski Paradox shows that this process does not observe rule 4, that is a ball can be taken apart into five pieces, each of these pieces can be rotated and moved around, put back together and the ball will be bigger than it was. Granted these 5 pieces have to be really weird shapes that couldn’t be practically constructed (in the real world, we know how to cut a ball in half, but not how to cut a ball in 1/Ö2).

There is no one way to define volume and the task of making whatever definition you decide on precise is a subtle one.

Jake's last point he wanted to make to me was motivating, if not daunting.

Calculus gives some very good definitions for concepts that seem ethereal and unclear. It is not any less precise than other forms of mathematics; rather its strength lies in making precise concepts like infinity, continuous, smooth and infinitesimal.

Jake gave an example from Zeno’s paradoxes. If you're interested in reading about the paradoxes, here's a link.

I'll finish this entry by letting Jake finish:

In mathematics beyond a certain point, how you approach a problem does, I think, matter the most.

Some very famous mathematicians made their discoveries by making connections between fields thought to be completely unrelated.

Evariste Galois saw the connection between mathematical objects called fields, groups and polynomials and with this insight solved geometrical problems that had gone unsolved for thousands of years.

Since the Greeks, mathematicians had wondered with it was possible to trisect an angle (split an angle up into three equal angles) using only a compass and a ruler. With Galois theory, you can prove that it’s impossible.

I remember taking Galois theory and being amazed that the professor showed us how to solve three problems in one lecture that had taken humanity thousands of years to figure out.

Jake, thanks for your thoughts!

Ethics and Math?

2008-11-16T22:21:00.002-07:00

A journalism department colleague sent me email expressing concerns about something I am allowing or suggesting members of my class do. The substance of our discussion and disagreement has nothing to do with math, but it did get me thinking.

Is there an ethics of math?

Is there a philosophy of math?

Do any of the questions that those of who live in a qualitative or aesthetic world ask a hundred times a day have any place in the world of math?

I hear mathematicians talk about "beauty" but what are they really thinking about. Same with elegance.

There are, of course right and wrong answers to problems or equations. But do the notions of "right" and "wrong" in a moral sense have any place at all when examining the world through a mathematical lens?

Do pure mathematicians find religious meaning in some numbers?

I'd love to get Prof. Saari on the phone and ask him.

I'd love to get back in touch with Paul Niquette. He thinks about these things.

I guess, now, so do I.

Understanding Change

2008-11-11T21:33:00.002-07:00

I went in for my annual physical this morning. Dr. James Reifschneider asked me what I was up to. Among other things, I told him about taking algebra.

He became more interested than usual.

Then he gave me a lecture about how, in his view, you simply cannot begin to grasp change or the nature of change unless you could understand calculus. He said whether it's about biology, astronomy, physics, or whatever, you need calculus to have a clue about what's going on.

He went on to say that earlier in the year he had purchased a book called Calculus for Dummies and was working his way through it.

---------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, back in class, we had another test and I think I did pretty well. Afterward Prof. John said that I might be in the lead for "most improved player." I got a good laugh out of that because Seth says that is probably the least coveted award -- in the sports world anyway.

Pushing on

2008-11-09T15:28:00.003-07:00

(Slow) Progress

I've been thinking and doing more about learning math and less about posting during the past week. Even though I did well on the last test, this week, I felt like I was falling behind.

I spent way too much time at the computer doing practice exercises.

As a result, I now get it about "rational expressions and functions" and "complex rational expressions" and "rational equations" and "division of polynomials."

We have a test on Monday covering all that plus factoring and inequalities.

I'm doing and understanding things that I didn't even know existed back at the end of August. I'm enjoying that, but just so that it doesn't go to my head, Seth reminds me that I am working on about the same stuff that his high school freshmen and sophomores are doing in his classes. However, I point out to him, they are the smart freshmen and sophomores. The ones that aren't in his classes are taking this same stuff with me as high school freshmen.

Just to turn up the pressure, everyone taking Pima College math 122 got an email telling us that if we don't get a "C" or better in this class, we won't be eligible to enroll in college algebra at the University of Arizona.

Perfectionism (not)

As the numbers or equations or functions get more and more intimidating, or at least scarier looking, I'm actually understanding what I need to so. I can set problems up and I know what has to go where, but still, too often, I mess up my arithmetic. I'm not sure I'm getting any better at that.

I've never been a perfectionist and never needed to be. Generally, I think it is a waste of time. You can get lots more done if everything you do doesn't have to be perfect. But in math, it seems to matter. I'm wondering (hoping?) if you get beyond a certain point, it stops mattering, and how you approach a problem matters more. That's one of the reasons I'm curious about calculus. I don't know anything at all about calculus, but in imagining, it doesn't seem that it is precise, that it can give one right answer. Otherwise, why would they need it? Or, I wonder whether most people who use calculus believe an outcome to be the one right answer based on faith rather than fact. I can't wait to find out in a couple of years.

A fun book

I've come across another book (recommended by Marcy, my UA math advisor). It's called The Joy of Mathematics: Discovering Mathematics All Around You. It contains 228 bite sized stories about things you might or might not have been curious about, all from a mathematical perspective.

Things I'm not doing

I called my aunt, Harriet Rochlin, to wish her a happy 85th birthday. She is finishing a book about Jewish women. She has speaking commitments. She has an ongoing research agenda. She says she doesn't have a moment to just reflect and says he hopes that someday she will.

The more I get into this math adventure, the more I feel my list of things to do grow. Mostly little things, some bigger. Here's what I need to do, but haven't (just about this small part of my life):

1. Work on a book proposal about math for journalists.
2. Think about a book about a complete beginner learning about math.
3. Write to Prof. Saari to ask about all kinds of things, and just get a correspondence going.
4. Thank Dr. Jerry for having lunch with me and sharing his story. And ask him whether we could have a formal interview sometime so I can get details on tape and share them with you.
5. Email Prof. Velez to ask for a visit or lunch to talk about math
6. Email Prof. Alexander to ask whether he would be willing to share his story about how a submarine commander became a math professor.
7. Thank Marcy again for visiting with me and being such a good advisor.
8. Get accepted to the University of Arizona again so I can sign up for Math 112, college algebra, for spring semester.
9. Read The Joy of Mathematics
10. Read How to Lie with Statistics
11. Read Math Tools for Journalists
12. Read Numbers in the Newsroom
13. Learn more about my fancy HP calculator
14. And Post to this Blog more frequently

Then, there is tomorrow's test to prepare for.

Mars and More - Dr. Jerry

2008-11-02T20:44:00.002-07:00

Dr. Gerard Droege

Friday I enjoyed meeting and having a fascinating lunch with Dr. Gerard Droege, a fellow old guy taking math as an undergraduate.

Hopefully, I'll do a real interview with him sometime, so I'll give a full report then, but I just wanted to introduce him now. Some of the facts here might not be exactly correct because I didn't tape our conversation or even take notes.

Jerry looks to be in his early 50s with already grey hair but a young looking face. He still has young skin. He probably didn't spend much time in the sun as a young guy. He comes on gentle, reserved, but confident and happy enough. I liked him immediately when he came to my office before lunch.

Jerry spend most of his medical career as a small town OBGYN on the east coast. For years he was the only OB in his county and pretty much everyone who needed help, counted on him to be there. He said he never got a full night's sleep. At minimum, there would be phone calls, but often enough he had to head to the county hospital. The baby wouldn't wait.

He spent some time in San Diego working with the poor, but that got difficult once California passed a resolution forbidding Medicaid from paying for the delivery and births of children born to undocumented people.
During all this time Jerry kept up a fascination with math and astronomy.

Finally, after too many sleepless nights and too many hours spent just earning enough money to pay next year's insurance premiums, Jerry decided to go after a dream he was still forming.

But, he knew the dream had to do with math and astronomy. That's how he got to Arizona.

After 22 years in full time practice, Jerry quit medicine on Dec. 31. (If he worked even one day during the following year, the insurance would have cost him $100,000.) On the advice of a trusted scientist friend Jerry decided to apply to the University of Arizona as an undergraduate math major. He was accepted for the fall semester.

Jerry, who is not married and doesn't have children, took a little time to wrap things up and headed to Costa Rica. He spent six months on the beach reading math books and studying about astronomy.

He came to Tucson and registered for calculus. He had taken it in college, but figured he needed a refresher.

Just as he landed in Tucson, the Phoenix Mars Mission was getting under way. Jerry wanted to be part of it. With what I imagine was a perfect combination of chutzpah and naivety, Jerry went to mission headquarters and asked for a job.

Probably realizing there was not that great a need for a burned out OBGYN at mission control, the folks there turned him down.

But, as luck (and good thinking) would have it, Jerry came across a grant to fund students to work in the sciences and astronomy. He applied and won.

He went back and said he had secured his own funding and really wanted to be part of the Mars team. Would they hire him? This time, the answer was yes.

So, Jerry has had quite a ride. He became in integral part of the team with real responsibilities. He says, four or so years ago neither he nor any of his friends or colleagues could have imagined that he would be part of the group responsible for landing a satellite on Mars to search for life.

Nor could he have even begun to imagine that, on the surface of Mars, along with seven others is the name, Gerard Droege inscribed on a sheet of gold.

Parallels

2008-10-29T22:30:00.004-07:00

Jerry Droege

I'm having lunch on Friday with Jerry Droege. He's an M.D. who left his practice of 22 years to pursue a math degree. He got started two and a half years ago. Right now he is working at the University of Arizona Lunar and Planetary Lab and is part of the Phoenix Mars Mission. I don't know any details yet but look forward to learning about him.

He was an OBGYN. I'm really curious about what happened. Hopefully he'll tell me about it and allow me to share it with you.

When he answered my email asking for a visit, among other things, he said, "What a gift you can give yourself - it's all WONDERFUL!"

---------------------------------------------

Don Saari

I wrote to Professor Saari thanking him for letting me sit in on his lunch session. I was delighted that he wrote me back.

There was one young woman at that lunch who challenged some of the things she was learning. Prof. Saari gave her his email address and invited her to contact him. He wrote to me, "My deep hope is that she steps up to my challenge; if so, I will try to help her unleash the creativity that normally is suppressed in traditional school training."

That's an inspiring teacher. I wish I had that passion and generosity.

He went on to write, "In my opinion, faculty, both in mathematics and in journalism, should explore ways to do more of that 'unleashing' of creativity."

Dr. Saari then referred me to a piece he wrote in August, 1991 recounting an experience he had as a guest speaker in a fourth grade class.

He then wrote:

"I fully believe that much of what we do in the classroom is directed toward indoctrinating the students with technical approaches rather than encouraging them to think.

"By the way, (that piece) was written in 1991; since then I have carried out the same experiment in several fourth, fifth, and sixth grade classrooms usually with a similar reaction. The one exception was when a teacher jumped into the discussion (to reprimand a boy whose only crime was being "overly creative" in his answer); her action dampened the spirit of adventure as it established her as a "authority figure." From that point on, rather than exploring ideas, the kids threw out multiple answers and looked to her to select the correct one.

"Also, I have discovered that this experiment rarely works with kids who are in the seventh grade or above; by that age they have been indoctrinated about the way to vote.

"Your comment about what I said during that lunch session and how it resonated with what you do probably reflects the reality that, well, both of us are exploring how we can discover and express the truth. As a way to try to compare the two worlds, maybe we should equate those algebra problems that have a precise answer with a news article on the back page of a newspaper that reports a court listing of traffic violations where, indeed, in both cases there usually is a single correct answer.

"The more complicated issues -- both in journalism and in mathematics -- usually have many different ways of being examined. For instance, I enjoyed what you said about feature writing; it ties in quite closely with what we (mathematicians) should be trying to do with the far too many unanswered important mathematical issues that are out there. Namely, we try -- or we should try --- to understand how to relate those relevant concepts that we do understand in a manner that will help us, and others, understand what is going on.

"Just as you described for feature writing, rather than a single approach, there are many mathematical ways in which this can be done.

"I bet there are many parallels in our two worlds."

Even if I never take another math class, my exposure to Prof. Saari made this semester worth it. I intend to write him back soon, if only to ask his permission to share his correspondence with you.

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Learning math

I sorta can't believe it, but more of this stuff is coming easier.

I'm on page 375 of this nearly 800 page math textbook and I'm not drowning. That amazes me every minute.

Chapter six, is called "Rational Expressions, Equations, and Functions. (I like that they use the serial comma). The section I'm working on is called Complex Rational Expressions. They look scary, but they're not. There just more steps (lots more) to getting through them. I'll put a picture of a page on the blog sometime soon so you can see. It won't be a pretty picture.

We had a quiz on Monday and I think I did really well. I know I made at least one arithmetic error, but I knew how to do everything on the test.

And what's even more surprising for me is that I'm trying to find time to work on the problems in the book, but especially online. If the time was there, it feels like I could put in many hours a day and enjoy learning new stuff. Go figure?

I was listing with Gail all the things that I am letting slide, partly because of taking time to learn algebra. I can't believe that bicycling, photography, music, hiking, the vegetable garden, learning new multimedia software, and preparing a book proposal for Charisse are all in line behind the actual studying of what is basically high school algebra II.

In the meantime, I'm still not making sense of what this is all for, besides my own amusement.

I'm equating learning math with the acquisition of a new language. People who are lucky enough to be multilingual tell me that languages open up all kinds of new worlds, ideas, and people that you wouldn't have been exposed to otherwise. I get it about spoken and written languages. I can even imagine what people are talking about when they say the same kinds of things about the language of music. But, I still am not even beginning to form a picture of how that metaphor applies to the language of mathematics.

How people think

2008-10-24T14:45:00.008-07:00

Partly because I was curious about what might happen next, I arranged a visit with the math student advisor to discuss, among other things, college algebra.

I had no idea when I set it up, I would get to enjoy one of my most inspiring hours in months.

But first, another math quote:

"You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I'm not hungry enough to eat six." -- Yogi Berra. I wonder whether Yogi even saw a tenth of the quotes attributed to him.

My UA Math Advisor

My appointment was at 11:30 a.m. in the Math Building with advisor Marcy DeWeese.

I don't think I was intimidated or anything, but once I found the elevator, I kept pushing the wrong button to call it. I finally found the right one and pushed it. But then I noticed the stairs and took them to the second floor.

I knocked on the door of room 202, Marcy's office. She opened it a crack and said she'd be with me in a minute. She was with another student.

As I sat outside her door I noticed a flier on a wall featuring a very attractive woman and the headline read, "Math Doesn't Suck." Well, good to know. Turns out it was promoting a book called, Math Doesn't Suck: How to Survive Middle School Math Without Losing Your Mind or Breaking a Nail , by Dancia McKellar. I checked the book's Amazon ranking, and it's up there. Not bad for a 320 page book about math.

In just a couple of minutes a petite and energetic 50 year old with tons of energy and a great smile welcomed me in to her office. I liked her immediately. We talked about marathons (she's done more than 10), El Tour de Tucson (she did the 85 mile version last year), and about the UA advisor's we knew in common.

Then we talked about math degrees. There is a lot to it and a lot that I really don't want to bother with -- things outside of math that they make the undergraduates take so they can be well rounded. Marcy told me that she imagined that many of my general studies courses from nearly 40 years ago might count. OK, we'll face that problem when I'm well into my 60s if I pass a couple of classes. Meanwhile, she told me, the next class I need to take is math 112, college algebra. Check.

But, more important, Marcy told me about a current student who I might be interested in knowing. a 50-year-old MD was pursuing a math degree. I can't wait to talk to him about sanity. Since Marcy is not allowed to give me his name or contact info, I gave her mine and asked her to pass it along to that doctor and invite him to call or email me. I hope he does.

I got up, thanked Marcy, and stepped outside her door. And, that's when fate (not that I believe in that) stepped in.

One of the professors I most admire in the whole university is Bill Velez. He is a math professor who I've never had but have assigned stories about and have photographed. He has been on the top of the list of people I have wanted to talk to about my own math adventure and about my book idea. Of course, I haven't done it yet.

So, as soon as I'm out of Marcy's door and turn to look for the stairs, I notice Bill walking around the corner. I immediately went up to him and reminded him who I was and told him how I've been meaning to eamil. We chatted for a moment and after he asked what I was up to, I told him I was taking intermediate algebra through Pima College and was hoping to take college algebra through the UA next semester.

That conversation really didn't go anywhere except that he invited me to set up a time when we could talk. But he told me they were having a pizza lunch right then with math students and a professor from UC Irvine. Would I like to join in? Sure!

Professor Donald Saari

He had Santa Claus eyes and a white beard, but it was short. He didn't say Ho! Ho! Ho!, but his demeanor did. When I walked in, he was going around the informal lounge asking the fifteen or students about themselves and their interests in math. He engaged every student and encouraged their thinking.

When I walked in the room, I had no idea that the speaker was a big time, internationally respected (and possibly revered) mathematician. Donald G. Saari is now a professor at the University of California, Irvine and director of their Institute for Mathematical Behavioral Sciences. He is a member of the National Academy of Sciences, has written and published 10 books and more than 160 articles, and is a Guggenheim fellow. And, for more than 20 years, during his tenure at Northwestern University, he served as Santa Claus at department Christmas parties.

One girl said she was taking micro-economics but didn't care for it. Professor Saari asked why. She explained that she could do the math easily enough but she thought there was a disconnect between what models predict and real life. The prof jumped on the thought and said she was so right. He agreed. But that's why math was so important.

When he came to me I explained a lot of what I've already written about here but also added how much I enjoy being exposed to people who are not part of my regular world, people who look at the world in ways that I may not even yet imagine, you know, unusual people. He smiled and glanced around at the math students and said, "I think he just called all of us strange." They all laughed.

Then he asked me, "How do you tell the difference between a an introverted and an extroverted mathematician?" I knew the answer but wasn't quick enough to get it out correctly. So, bailing me out, he said, when you're having a conversation, "the extrovert looks at your shoes instead of his."

I asked him, what has become a regular question when I'm around scientists or mathematicians, "Is there a term to describe when people trust their assumptions and the math is correct, and therefore they believe their conclusion, but the real world conclusion is absurd on its face?"

Without skipping a beat he said, "Yes. Wishful thinking!"

But then, more seriously he said, "If the model doesn't match the reality, you look at the data. You look at the assumptions."

Earlier in the week, while I was still deciding whether or not to take another math class, I was thinking more about the math experience generally. I certainly wasn't spending all this time just to learn some mechanics with numbers or even what buttons to push on a calculator to solve a complicated looking equation. What I was really curious about was how mathematicians see the world, or how I could look at the world or a situation the way a mathematician would. How mathematicians think.

I know how to look at the world as a journalist and as a photographer. During high school and my first two years of college, I could look at the world through the eyes of a poet and a play write. Most of my motivation for getting an MBA was to figure out how business people think. I figured it out, but don't do it. And when I went through my Ph.D. program and wrote my dissertation, the biggest challenge for me was to see the world through academic eyes. I don't think I ever quite got it. Besides those, I imagine there are lots of filters or points of view with which people make sense of the world. Scary ones such as religious lenses. Slightly less scary ones such as a political or economic take on everything. But for some reason, I couldn't even begin to put together a way to describe how I thought a mathematician would make sense of day to day living, relationships, or being happy and making other people happy, much less the world at large.

Then, coming back to my own little adventure with the abstract and The Minimalist Math Book, I wondered whether there might be something more valuable than knowing the difference between the mean and the median that journalists could learn from mathematicians. Could math provide any new ways to ask questions? To structure narratives? To make sense of a larger story? Or a smaller story? Of course, I didn't know, but I was curious.

So you might understand my internal Wow!" reaction when Professor Saari, with complete passion and conviction, tempered by a smile his happy light blue Santa eyes, said, "Mathematics is a way of thinking. It's a way of living."

That's when said, "damn" and told myself never go anywhere without my tape recorder again.

But I did have my fountain pen and notebook.

Professor Saari went on to assert that mathematics is the only academic discipline where we can predict what might happen six or seven levels ahead of what other people are looking at. And, he said, mathematicians can do that in any discipline. You can land in a field, look at their equations the describe their observations, and discuss it at the most sophisticated levels, he said.

That's kinda like what reporters do, except we figure out how to ask good questions and then try to translate the answers.

During the conversation I told Professor Saari that when I talk to my journalism students, I always tell them that in approaching a feature story, there is never one right answer. There might be a hundred right answers. Same with photography. There are a thousand ways to photograph a face. I said, one of the things that intrigued me about math was the idea that there was just one right answer. But, I said, that's probably not true. Would he talk about that?

He jumped all over my remark.

What I think I heard him say was that for problems where you have an equation on a blackboard, sure, there is likely one right answer. And nearly anyone who knows the mechanics can get there.

However, when you are taking a mathematical approach to big problems, problems that exist in the real world, the exciting thing about math is how many ways it offers to examine questions, in fact, even to find questions.

"Every time you look at something in a different way, you will have new results."

He said "taking a fresh approach" is one of the strongest things a mathematician does. "If you don't, all you do is end up modifying standard approaches."

He told a couple of stories about how he encourages his graduate students to find new questions and new solutions.

He said he doesn't allow his graduate students to immediately read academic papers through from beginning to end. He allows them to read the introduction or an abstract that simply describes the problem. Then he asks his grad students to come up with their own ways to solve that problem and to come up with new questions that solving the problem might pose. Then, finally, they can read the whole paper. Saari's concern was, that once students read a paper by an "academic expert" they would be stuck thinking about the problem only in the terms that the researcher defined. He said that encourages students to find their own way to approach a problem.

That describes part of the reason I don't use a textbook in my feature writing class. Most of the books I've examined, prescribe one formula about how to write a feature story. That formula often works for a whole lot of people, but for lots of others, it doesn't.

I was surprised at how frequently he used phrases to describe things I've tried to suggest to my own student.

He advocated: Simple problems, simple solutions.

I've always used the phrase: Simple but elegant.

He said when one of his graduate students is stuck, he makes them try to explain the problem in terms that a 9th grader could understand. To illustrate, he asked several students in the room to explain the calculus term, "limits" in simple terms. They couldn't. Professor Saari could. "Limit - using information to predict what will happen."

Then he asked about the term, "continuity." Same result. The students couldn't answer in simple English. Saari could. "Continuity -- if what you predict would happen, happens."

During the entire hour my book was in the back of my mind. Was I thinking too narrowly? Was it worth putting together a book that at least two other people have already written and published that basically gives recipes to journalists about how to perform some basic numerical mechanics? Could I include that useful stuff, but also more.

Professor Saari concluded his visit by saying, as a mathematician, "The goal is not to solve difficult problems. It's to influence the way people think."

Reps

2008-10-20T21:39:00.002-07:00

I want to use the summation ∑ in my title partly because that symbol has always frightened me but also using it might let me show off my first mathematical pun.

I wonder what the focus group will think about:

In ∑: The Minimal Math Book for Journalists

------------------------

Dave Robbins, one of my students in Border Beat sent me some of his favorite quotes about math. I'll post some of them here over the next few posts. You may have already heard some, but they are all fun. And as with most quotations, verification is hard to come by.

"Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical." Yogi Berra.

-------------------

Today, I went with my class that produces Border Beat for training. We were all learning about a video editing program called Final Cut Pro. Afterward, as I walked toward my algebra class with a couple of my own students we talked about the session.

The consensus was that the best way to learn new software was to bang your head against the wall and keep struggling until you got it. That way it would stick. We all seemed to agree listening to a lecture was nice, but almost nothing sticks.

At class today, some things stuck and other things didn't. Even though I thought I understood everything on today's quiz, I messed up something on four out of five of the questions. My excuse was that I rushed because I didn't want to again be the last person done. So I got about half of the answers half right.

After class I was talking to John the prof about how I am realizing how much time it should take to get a feel for the different things we were learning and how watching him solve a problem on the board is nice, and often illuminating, but it seems like you have to do a type of problem over and over and over just to absorb it.

John seemed to agree and said he never got much out of math or physics lectures. But, he asked me, Wasn't it the same thing for writing? I said I didn't think so because in writing there might be a hundred right answers about how to tell a given story. John responded saying he remembered Stephen King saying something about having to write for eight hours a day for years and then maybe you'll have a shot at being a good writer.

This was King's actual quote:

"Read and write four to six hours a day. If you cannot find the time for that, you can't expect to become a good writer."

It's from a short essay called "Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully - in Ten Minutes." This version was reprinted in Sylvia K. Burack, ed. The Writer's Handbook. Boston, MA: Writer, Inc., 1988: 3-9. I found this on what looks like a blog entry by someone named J. Dowell.

John got me thinking. Perhaps he had a point. I had been telling my feature writing students over and over again that they don't have a clue about how much work it takes to write well. Maybe I've been telling them the truth. My math professor thinks so and he is in some pretty good company.

I plan to share the essay with my class on Wednesday.

In the meantime, I need to really think about how much work it will (should) be to write The Minimal Math Book for Journalists.

Algebra by the Bay

2008-10-19T19:30:00.006-07:00

Is this sick?

I really did intend to write a first draft of a book proposal this weekend. Gail and I were in Kino Bay, Sonora and I had plenty of time. But something else got in the way and it surprised me.

Rather than needing to sit down and start typing a book proposal, I wanted to study algebra. We are blasting through linear inequalities and getting into polynomials. I found myself preferring to learn about those things instead. I also asked myself, "is this sick, or what?"

Even worse, there were plenty of other great things to do. I had a stack of New Yorker magazines that I hadn't gotten to, several issues of the Neiman Reports, and the New York Review of Books, all waiting to be read. Not to mention a beautiful beach to walk on and a great fishing village and estuary to take pictures of.

But no, I mainly wanted to start getting a feel for polynomials. I think it's weird also.

But, I am actually learning new things every day and that is kind of addicting.

Plus, I've got my great new calculator to play with.

The HP 40gs is (I suppose) a great calculator that I am just getting a feel for. About 90% of what it can do, I haven't even heard of yet. That makes the 400+ page manual a little more manageable. I spend a whole lot of hours trying to learn how to do even the simplest algebra problems on it. I think it could be more intuitive.

I've thought about what's going on. I've considered brain damage. My aunt, Harriet Rochlin, has told me stories about older friends of hers who develop new interests and talents and loose others as their brains age and change. Some have developed musical talent, some art. So I'm thinking, why not math?

I've always been curious about new worlds and feel especially alive when I'm either learning or creating. Right now, for me, math is a new world and I certainly am learning. Not creating, but that might come later.

The first exam

John handed our first exam back to us on Wednesday and I didn't do bad -- 21 out of 24. I knew how to do just about everything on the test but (of course) messed up on arithmetic. I am getting better though. I can tell.

---------------------------------------------

The Minimal Math Book for Journalists

Tom's Idea

Joe Sharkey is a new friend. He writes a column for the New York Times about business travel. The Times published a column by Joe on October 13, 2008 that included a simple subtraction mistake. He was off by $100.

Here is the offending paragraph:

"For my aborted trip to Aspen, I’d booked on Continental from Newark to Denver. The round-trip advance-purchase fare was $375. Reusing the ticket later will incur a $150 change fee, leaving me with $125 to apply toward another ticket."

At a lunch with Tom Miller, Ted Robbins, and me, Joe said he had received more than 100 email messages complaining or at least commenting about the error. We all thought that was interesting and in some ways encouraging, but didn't give it that much more thought. But afterward, Tom had an idea for me.

Tom suggested that I write to Joe asking whether he would be willing to let me see some of those comments. Some might be eloquent and describe just why it matters that journalists get math or even simple arithmetic right, every single time. Others might be angry. There might be some funny emails . In any event, at least 100 New York Times readers both noticed the error and took the time to write to the author about it.

I have Joe's email address and hope to write to him tomorrow or Tuesday. I'll let you know what he says.

How Ralph found me

You remember Ralph Hanson ? He is chair of the Department of Communication at the University of Nebraska at Kearney. Last week he wrote saying good things about CQ Press and inviting me to call him to talk about his experience with them. Of course I was curious about how he found me and knew about my book idea. I imagined (hoped?) that Charisse and he had been talking about my idea and she gave him my contact information, maybe even encouraging him to talk them up a little.

So, on Tuesday or Wednesday I gave Ralph a call. It's funny how even an imaginary book deal can go to your head, or mine.

Mystery solved.

No, Charisse and Ralph did not spend any time discussing my book idea. Charisse didn't give Ralph my contact information. Turns out that Ralph has a google alert set for "CQ Press." When I first mentioned the press here a couple of weeks ago, it launched Ralph's alert and he clicked here and read all about it. Then, he was simply nice enough to send me an email inviting me to talk.

By the way, he has had only good experiences working with CQ Press and went on and on about how inspiring it is to work with Charisse at the press.

And, speaking about Charisse, she sent me a quick and encouraging response to my last note.

Here's what she said:

-----------
Thanks for your email Jay--

good to hear from you and to know how the idea continues to percolate. I appreciate that you only want to commit to a project like this if you think you've got an original take on the subject and can do justice to it, as well as make some money along the way. Happy to keep having the conversation and look forward to seeing what you put down on paper.

I saw the New Yorker blurb you mention below and chuckled. I love it when they have a little space available at the end of a long article and drop in one of these gems.

Best,
Charisse

---------------

OK, I have a quiz in algebra class tomorrow. It doesn't stop. And just to give myself one more thing to consider, I need to decide whether I want to take "College Algebra" next semester. Registration starts this week.

Seeds

2008-10-13T22:01:00.003-07:00

The Minimal Math Book for Journalists

I finally wrote back to Charisse at CQ Press. Here's most of what I said:

--------------------------------------

Dear Charisse,

First let me apologize for not writing this note sooner.

I want to tell you how much I enjoyed and appreciated our conversation. Not that it will happen, but I'd love to be able to sit around and talk about ideas and books with you sometime.

I also want to thank you for your time and for thinking about my idea.

My intention is to work up a proposal, partly for you, but mainly to commit to a direction for me. I want to get that written soon, but who knows. Between the classes I'm teaching, the class I'm taking, keeping up on reading, squeezing in some time or bicycling and hiking, and being lucky enough to have a great wife and son who I love spending time with, this is not as high on the list as it might be.

I'm trying to figure out whether or not I can write a book that is fun to read and might be read by people who aren't forced to read it by teachers. And, to be honest, I want a commercially successful book. I don't care about getting tenure and my ego is in fine shape. If I do take the effort to write a book and if it is good enough, I want it to be useful, contribute to the field, be a good read, but also make money for both CQ and me.

In any event, I've been thinking about it every day.

I hope you have a great week.

Jay

-----------------------------------------------------

She hasn't responded. I guess there is really no reason for her to until I send her something to react to.

------------------------------------------------------

But, in the meantime, I received a totally random email from someone named Ralph Hanson. The subject line said "CQ Press."

As you might imagine, that got my attention.

Turns out, Ralph Hanson is chair of the Department of Communication at the University of Nebraska at Kearney. His note said:

-------------------------------------------------------

Hey, Jay,

If you are interested in pursuing a book with CQ Press you can give me a call at my office. I've been with CQ Press for a couple of years now, and they are a wonderful outfit to work with.

Ralph

------------------------------------------------------

Well, cool. So perhaps Charisse and Ralph were talking and she mentioned my idea and that I was blogging about my math class and my book in its barely post conception stage and he googled me and landed here. Or, way unlikely, he randomly found this site. Either way, it was neat to get that note. I checked out his blog and web site and it turns out, he and I have a lot to talk about.

I replied saying:

--------------------------------------------------------

Dear Ralph,

Thanks for your note. I will call you. I appreciate the offer. Are there better
or worse times or should I just take my chances?

Meantime, I noticed your request for student blogs. I teach a class where my
students produce an online publication called Border Beat --
http://borderbeat.net/. As part of their requirements, each student has to
create a blog about a particular topic (their choice) that relates to the
border and post once a week during the semester.

A list of the blogs is at --

http://borderbeat.net/story/show/354

Some are strong. Some aren't. But they seem to be getting comfortable in an
online environment.

If you're interested in the syllabus for the course, you can find it on the left
panel of my site: jayrochlin.com.

Again, thanks for taking the time to write and for your generous offer to visit
about publishing with CQ Press. I enjoyed my phone conversation with Charisse
and hope to talk with her again soon. I'm going to Mexico on Thursday and hope
to put some thoughts on paper that I hope will form the beginning of a formal
proposal.

Best regards,

Jay

-----------------------------------------------------

I'll let you know if we talk or if he writes back.

------------------------------------------------------

This evening I was at a reception put on by Jan Harelson, chair of the University of Arizona Department of Journalism Advisory Council. It's made up a small but great group of volunteers who care about our department and are doing their best to try to raise money for us. The get-together was for faculty and members to get to know each other better.

During the course of the evening we all had to introduce ourselves, tell about our teaching, and let them know about our most recent and compelling research interests and activities. Well, some of my colleagues, besides being great people, are pretty heavy duty on the national scene in journalism scholarship. Books, international research projects, journal articles, honors, titles in professional organizations. When it came around to me, I had to say something more substantial than how much fun my students seem to be having producing their online magazine. So, I just blurted out, "and I'm in discussions with the chief acquisitions editor of CQ press about a book about math for journalists." Dang! Why did I have to say that out loud? Several of the members came up to me afterward saying they thought it was a good idea and really necessary. Thanks.

The Algebra Test

This time I was the second to last student finished. All but one of the students finished in what seemed like no time. Lucky them, I guess.

The test had only six or seven problems on it and I knew how to do them all.

But, sure enough, in trying to figure out the simultaneous equation in three variables, I got a different answer every time I tried. I thought I knew the steps and I made myself go slowly and deliberately, but in five tries, I got all different answers. And, in this case, five tries meant 15 different answers. I gave up when I at least got each of the three variables ending up as whole numbers.

Afterward, John, the other student, and I had a great discussion about math in general and figuring out the universe. I confessed to John about being a Big Bang Atheist. I wanted to know whether he knew of a term that describes the situation when all the math is correct and you believe your assumptions, but the conclusion is something that is absurd on its face, like the Big Bang. John, being a smart physicist, knows a lot about that kind of stuff but he didn't know a word for that. We still had a fun talk. I asked him whether I could conduct a real interview with him on tape about those kinds of things and he said sure. I hope we can put that together soon.

Right and Wrong

2008-10-12T16:14:00.003-07:00

Time,time, time

One thing I try to impress on my journalism students is how much time and effort it takes to be good. We read feature stories by Pulitzer prize winners, some of whom have been writing professionally for twenty years or more. Some of the stories we read might have taken the writer months of hard work to get done -- research and rewrite after rewrite, with the help of top notch editors.

I have speakers, all professional writers, come into class and they say the same thing. And, almost to a person, my students think they can conduct two or three fifteen minute interviews, compile some notes, and write a credible story the night before their deadlines. It doesn't work.

So, I shouldn't be surprised by how much time I'm needing to put into my algebra class, just to (barely) keep up. But I am surprised and not really accepting it. I am, also to my surprise, understanding much of the stuff, but it is taking more time than I imagined. And, no telling what's sticking.

I am resenting the time. I'd rather be doing almost anything outdoors especially bicycling. I rather be reading the wonderful publications I receive every week. But at the same time, I am enjoying learning new things.

This weekend I sort of got a handle on solving and graphing "systems of linear inequalities." As they say, "don't ask."

Right and Wrong

I am enjoying the the idea of right and wrong answers. At this level, it is so clean. You follow the steps and you get the right answer. If you don't, you don't.

When my students turn a writing assignment in to me, there are a hundred right ways they could have approached and written the story. There are rules, but beyond a very early phase, it's subjective. I force myself to judge their stories and assign them grades. Likely another teacher would have judged differently. And a third, even more differently. John looks at our math test and the answer is either right or wrong.

Motivation

A new camera or lens always worked for photography. A nice new fountain pen (less well) for writing. Why not a new calculator to re-motivate me about math?

So, while I should have been solving problems and preparing for tomorrow's test, I spent time on the web reading about whether I should by a TI-84 plus silver edition, TI-89 Titanium, or HP 40gs. Seth told me I should by the TI-89. That's what got him through high school and college. Most of my classmates have the TI-84. My HP-12C, the business calculator, got me through my MBA and might as well be new more than 20 years later, so I went with the HP 40gs, their student-level graphing calculator. I can't wait to get it.

The book

I still haven't gotten back to Charisse at CQ Press, even to thank her for taking the time to talk to me on the phone. I guess I'm conflicted about whether I want to take the next step. And I'm really conflicted about whether I want to take the next three steps. It would be fun to try, but at the same time, that's a lot of work for hardly any money, or fun. Plus, if I'm taking up all of my spare time learning math, how will find time to write about it. On the other hand, a new book about math for journalists could do a lot of good, give me something solid to work on, and open up other doors.

Our first exam

John is giving us our first tomorrow. Rather than review, I've been pushing forward. I hope not too much is falling off the back. I'll report back.

360 degrees of Wisdom

2008-10-08T22:09:00.004-07:00

Seth told me about this quote:

"We're going to turn this team around 360 degrees."

-NBA Star who played college basketball for Berkeley, Jason Kidd upon being traded to the Dallas Mavericks

----------------------

I found this one:

"[My] career was sputtering until [I] did a 360 and got headed in the right direction."

- NBA star Tracy McGrady, after signing with the Orlando Magic.

----------------------

No telling about the veracity of these quotes. I couldn't find original sources or even any attribution to a printed or broadcast source from any of the (many) web sites that listed these quotes.

In any event they're funny.

Now I'm on the lookout for more -- hopefully out of journalism. If not, good funny quotes from public people who (mis)use numbers will be great. If you notice any, please sent them my way: rochlin@arizona.edu.

----------------------

John told our algebra class today that it's normal to feel as if we were drowning. He said he felt that way learning math. But, he said hopefully, we will be surprised by how much we will have learned by the end of the semester if we stick it out.

There are already lots of things I can do now that I couldn't three weeks ago. That feels good. I probably could have scored plenty of percentile points higher on my Law School Admissions Test when I was 22 if I knew this stuff. I might have actually been accepted into law school and really messed up my life.

Unfortunately, I'm also learning that progress rises in direct proportion to the amount of time invested in the pursuit of that learning. That can be put into a simple mathematical formula where x=amount learned and t=time invested: (f)x=t.

The Point of No Return

2008-10-04T17:35:00.002-07:00

Here's an example of the kind of thing I've been struggling with all day:

"A plane is flying the 3458-mi trip from New York City to London has a 50-mph tailwind. The flight's point of no return is the point at which the flight time required to return to New York is the same as the time required to continue to London. If the speed of the plane in still air is 360-mph, how far is New York from the point of no return?" (Bittinger, Intermediate Algebra, 7th ed).

If that brings you back to SAT nightmares, me too.

"Attention to detail" is an area I've never scored high on in recommendations. It hasn't mattered at all, until now.

This has been a frustrating zillion hours going over math exercises. The frustrating part isn't the theory, it's the execution. I'm being fairly fast about picking up what I have to do. I can usually set up the word problems. And I'm happily amazed that (unlike Spanish) a good amount of this stuff seems to be sticking. But once I start doing the numbers, I screw up something tiny and there goes another quarter hour.

Of course I can't help but to hope that my carelessness is just a result of lack of practice, rather than a symptom. I'm wondering whether you can learn to do the details. At the same time, I also wonder if I learn how to think about and care about and be careful about details, could that mess up my fun "out there" thinking.

At the same time, I'm enjoying the struggle. In class I was chatting with a guy who had racked up a million or so points on his cell phone game. He concentrates, works hard, and has gotten good at it. I'm thinking of the chapters in my math book as different levels of a video game (minus the graphics). I'm getting better, am I slow.

Seth doesn't get it at all about why I want to learn algebra. I haven't given him a good answer. To amuse myself? Not liking being an idiot in a whole world of knowledge. The blind faith belief that you can't go wrong investing time or money in learning something new? Getting the shit scared out of myself every time I can't remember some one's name?

There is another quiz on Monday and I'm behind.

I Finished Last

2008-10-02T21:46:00.002-07:00

I was the last one to finish Wednesday's quiz.

But first - -

The Oct. 6, 2008 issue of the New Yorker magazine included this great inch worth of copy:

-------------------

Statistical Department

From an article in the Pueblo (Colo.) Chieftain about a retired schoolteacher seeking a seat on the State Board of Education.

"The top half of the students are well-educated, the bottom half receive extra help but the middle half we are leaving out," she said.

------------------

Gail suggested that "What out for that Middle Half" be a candidate for my book's title, or at least a chapter.

But back to the classroom.

I knew how to do every problem on the quiz, but I was slow and don't know why. A few of the students blasted through the five problems and turned in their papers before I was even through reading the first.

I plodded through using extra typing paper and graph paper. I think I got the answers right. Hopefully John will have the papers graded and will return them on Monday.

I missed only one thing on the first quiz -- that dumb mistake adding 3x2 instead of multiplying. John only took off half a point so I got 14 1/2 out of 15. Not bad.

Meantime, I was concerned that we would not get through the book and be unprepared for college algebra if we landed there next semester.

What to do about it?

Well, since I know how to organize better than solve linear functions, I worked up a schedule for the rest of the semester including exactly when we do each chapter and when quizzes, tests, and the final should take place. I took language from my own syllabus and rewrote it for a math environment and found out and included information about all the tutoring and video support help Pima College offers.

John couldn't have been a better sport. He thanked me for doing that work and agreed that we'd have to make it through a chapter a week for the rest of the semester.

Steve Cox put it in perspective. "So you're the annoying old guy, huh?"

Well yes, but I still hope John takes some of my suggestions. I like him a lot and I have a lot to learn from him. Plus, he seems to be a nice guy who wants to do his best.

The class seemed to hold together better on Wednesday than it had. It's settling into about 12 students who stay for the whole session and seem like they want to get what they can out of it. The others are resigned to having to take the quizzes and tests to get the credit. Not bad.

Even though I am slow and have spent way too many hours on the computer doing practice problems, algebra holding my attention and I don't know why. Is it the starkness or simplicity of right or wrong. As complicated as it looks on paper or on a blackboard, this stuff, at least at this level, is really straightforward. If you do this and then this and then this, here is the right answer. If you don't do exactly that, you get the wrong answer. It feels good to solve a problem, but there is no real human emotion involved. It worries me a little that I seem to be enjoying that.

It couldn't be more different from the teaching world I live in the rest of the time. One of my students is writing a profile about her brother who at age 17 is just returning to high school after battling drug addiction. Another is writing a story about a teen-aged mother who is trying to cope with her own problems while trying to learn to be a mom. Still another is profiling a nun who teaches at a girls' Catholic high school in Nogales, Ariz. and how she has affected young women's lives for half a century. Many of the students are writing about people who have emotional and profound stories to tell.

They have about 1500 word to tell those stories. And there about a thousand ways to do it.

Old Wooden Chairs

2008-09-30T16:33:00.006-07:00

I am taking a math course being taught in a building at Arizona's "world class university."

Every now and then, I am the first person to arrive. Here is what I see.

Wooden chairs

Our flag, our Constitution, and our Bill of Rights

The view from Engineering 308

We have a quiz tomorrow. I'll report back.

I haven't sent an email message to Charisse, my potential editor. Hopefully I'll get that done tonight.

I Couldn't Stop Myself

2008-09-29T20:12:00.003-07:00

Today's algebra class was supposed to consist of a quiz and then soldering on through the rest of Chapter 2, graphs and linear functions.

4:00 p.m., no professor. No surprise.

4:05 no professor but a few students who put together the pattern wander in.

4:10 nope. The students are actually more passive and I can imagine. There are almost no sarcastic remarks. And, to my surprise and in some ways, disappointment, no anger.

4:15, one of the students receives a text. It's from John, our professor. He'll be here in 10 minutes. He's stuck making copies of the quiz.

4:25, one of the kids announces, "at 4:30, we're out of here." Plenty of nods in agreement.

4:29, John walks in the door.

I tried to convince myself to sit still and act like a passive freshman. I tried to convince myself that I should stay in my reporter mode and just tale notes about how the class unfolded, that I should not become part of the story. But I couldn't stop myself. So I raised my hand.

"John, we really need to have a class meeting. There are some things we need to talk about."

That got my classmates' attention.

John smiled and said, sure, what's on your mind.

No need to quote myself here, but in a nutshell I suggested that if for whatever reason he can't make it to class at 4:00, let's agree to meet at 4:15, that our time is also valuable. I pointed out that calibration was important and he still hadn't returned our first quizzes. I also suggested that he create a more detailed syllabus or plan for the class that would impose some discipline to get us through the material and let us know exactly when tests would be and what they would cover.

He good naturedly and non-defensively seemed to agree with all that.

He asked for others to speak up and they did. One girl had a great plan for how to use the class time. She suggested that as soon as class starts he hand out a very short quiz based on the most recent homework (tied to the schedule in the syllabus). Then he should take time immediately afterward to go over and difficulties that students had. And right after that, move on to the key points that we needed to know in the following section. And then save the last part of class for work with the students who need more individual or hands on attention.

John liked that idea and implemented a version of it immediately.

Because so many people had left before he arrived at 4:30, he had decided not to give the quiz. Instead, he handed it out to us to complete with the idea the we would immediately look at the problems as a class. It worked.

I like John and believe his heart is in the right place. I think he wants to do a good job and wants his students to learn. I believe that he is incredibly smart. I also believe that it must be quite difficult and demotivating to try to teach low math-aptitude college freshmen about numbers in an antiquated classroom for not very much money.

It is also apparent (I imagine appropriately for a physics Ph.D.) that classroom management, planning, and high level social skills, are not big parts of his personal portfolio.

Still, respect needs to run both ways. We show up on time. He needs to also. We are counting on him to lead us through the material in this course. Most of the students are taking this class because they eventually need to pass college algebra. Hopefully this class will supposedly prepare them for that. College algebra is a pre-requisite for all kinds of majors.

We just learned about using graphs to predict progress or outcomes. According to my linear function, it is apparent that at the rate (slope: y=mx+b) we are going, we will not get through as much of the book as we need to. That realization made me probably overstep my bounds. I decided to talk with John after class.

Gail (my wife) was kind of appalled when I told her this story, but I went up to John and asked whether I could volunteer to help him write the detailed syllabus that I had brought up at the beginning of class. He was open to the idea.

I also told him about how impressed I was with the online help and the CD videos that were available for everyone who had purchased the book. I suggested that he think about switching more responsibility for learning the material to students and using classroom time for evaluation (quizzes and tests), prioritization, clarification, and remedial work for those who needed it. There is simply too much material in the book to cover in three and a half hours a week.

We agreed to try to get together some Tuesday or Thursday to talk more.

A Snapshot into a Different World

2008-09-27T20:55:00.001-07:00

One of my classmate's dads landed on this blog. He sent a nice note saying, "I enjoyed your blog immensely, a snapshot into my daughter's world." (Thanks!)

I had a chance to experience a different aspect of that world today, all by myself, sitting at a computer solving graphing problems. I got a feel for how much discipline it must take on the part of an 18-year-old to spend time at a desk doing homework to pass a class that they know in their hearts (accurately or not) will have no use to them for the rest of their lives.

Tucson was warm and beautiful today. I have a couple of great bicycles in my garage that are a pleasure to ride and I haven't been on one of them since Thursday. Mt. Lemmon is already cool enough for a light jacket. There is still water in Sabino Canyon and Romero Pools. And I spent the day struggling through beginning functions.

The good news is, I know a bunch of stuff now that I didn't on Friday morning when I jumped in. Some of the stuff is sticking. It is a little exciting having light bulbs turn on. I might actually pass Monday's quiz.

I feel for some of my classmates. The ones for whom this is just review from high school will do fine. But for those of us who need to learn this material for the first time, it's not going to be easy going. There is no bluffing in math. The answer is right or wrong, at least at this level. I don't see how a lot of the kids are going to pass. I'm not sure about me.

But, have times ever changed. Inside of the classroom, not so much. It might as well be 1962. A teacher, a book, and a blackboard. O.K., a whiteboard. But at home, everything is different.

That $135 package that I complained about so much came with all kinds of goodies that I am beginning to appreciate. There are CDs packed with videos that cover every section of the book. There is a "solutions" book that works out problems step by step. And there is an online version of the book, the problems, and solutions that you can work through.

You click on a problem and a graph pops up where you can plot the points. There is a button that reads, "Help me solve this." You click on that and it walks you through the problem. You can ask for an example of the problem. You can watch a video clip where a teacher talks about what you need to know to solve the problem. And, when you enter the right answer, the screen produces a graphic that says "wonderful," "great job," and things like that.

It's like there is no excuse for not learning what's there except for wanting to be outside pedalling my bicycle up Mt. Lemmon at least to Windy Point rather than sitting in a dim room all day Saturday looking at a computer screen, scrawling numbers and letters on scrap paper, and wiggling my fingers over a grungy keyboard.

The Book

I need to write a note to Charisse and haven't yet. Hopefully tomorrow. In the meantime, I've been thinking about it.

My early thoughts are that I might not have the time or talent to write the book that I think would be the best. I don't know whether I can write as funny or as clever as I'd want the book to be. And, for that matter, I am not even sure I could write illustrative news stories as tight and credible as they ought to be. And, I'm pretty sure I would rather not take actual news stories from papers (even with permission) to illustrate what I'm writing about, because that would date the book so quickly.

So, I've been thinking about other formats.

One idea was to have a series of conversations between a fictional journalist/math guru and a young reporter about telling readers the truth with numbers and how.

When I was a freshman in high school my thing was drama. I wanted to write, act, direct, all of it. Gerald McCoy, one of my most important and best teachers, turned me on to Acting: The First Six Lessons, by Richard Boleslavsky. At the time, I though it was one of the two or three most important books I had ever read. It was written as a series of six conversations between a director and an acting student. The language was accessible and at the time I thought the lessons were profound. I haven't seen the book for probably 40 years. I wonder what I would think of it now. But it is still a classic.

Another idea is to create a book that is similar in concept but involves discussions with notable people in the journalism world about why numbers matter. Those individuals will inevitably share examples of good things and bad things they had seen during their careers. After their discussions, I would write about the kinds of things they were referring to and give instruction on how to do those things.

And yet another slightly different approach would be to ask editors the question: "In terms of numbers, what is one thing that all working journalists absolutely must know how to do?" The answers, I imagine would be different, and using quotes from these leading editors as a take off point, I'd go into the hows and whys of particular skills that journalists should master.

Still, I need to get back on my bike tomorrow so I can think about some of these things.

"I Like the Idea"

2008-09-26T17:09:00.002-07:00

At 12:00 sharp I got a call from Charisse Kiino, the Chief Acquisitions Editor for College Publishing at CQ Press.

She again apologized about missing yesterday's phone appointment and explained how executives from SAGE Press, which had bought CQ Press in May, were having a series of meetings that she was involved in (without her Blackberry).

She told me a little about both CQ and SAGE and why she was happy about the acquisition. She has been with the publishing house for 10 years.

She sounded like a "high energy -- think of the possibilities!" person on the phone and I liked that.

We got right into the idea of a book to help journalists navigate numbers. She asked about me my thoughts about the books that were already out there and I told her most of what I have written here in earlier posts. I even went so far as to suggest that if I were in her shoes I would consider working up a distribution agreement with the IRE and try to get Sarah Cohen's, Numbers in the Newsroom, a wider readership.

I suppose I was more excited about talking to Charisse than she was to me, so I did too much of the talking. But, on the other hand, it is my idea we were talking about and I am excited about it. And she probably talks to college professors every day and I've only spoken with one other publishing house acquisitions editor.

I told her that I want my "Navigating Numbers for Journalists" book to be fun to read, not just be a boring reference book that people buy because they think they ought to, but never open after the first day because they fall asleep during the second paragraph, or in this case, equation.
People actually read for enjoyment, Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation , by Lynne Truss.

Bill Walsh did exactly what I want to do with his two books. After a long career as one of the country's top newspaper copy editors, Bill took a way too boring topic and made it fun. Not once, but twice.

He wrote The Elephants of Style : A Trunkload of Tips on the Big Issues and Gray Areas of Contemporary American English and followed it up with the even more cleverly titled, Lapsing Into a Comma : A Curmudgeon's Guide to the Many Things That Can Go Wrong in Print--and How to Avoid Them ..

Both were full of great information. But they were funny and quotable and well written at the same time.

Another really fun book is a new illustrated version of The Elements of Style. Maria Kalman brought the book back to life with happy illustrations.

So, the (fantasy?) vision is, If I can do for numbers and news what those guys did for words, that would be too cool.

Back to the talk with Charisse and business. I had several questions that she was nice enough to answer for me.

CQ Press is highly respected and very serious. Check their list. I asked Charisse whether a light, fun to read, but accurate and credible math guide for journalists is consistent with their mission. (I learned to use words like mission when I got my MBA in the late 80s).

She said, sure.

Taking Tom Miller's advice, I asked her whether the press or she individually would be comfortable working with an agent. This is when I really started to like her. Instead of just laughing or saying something like, "gimme a break," and then laughing, she gently explained that the main reason that authors are represented by agents is to negotiate big advances with big publishers in case the book doesn't make it. CQ Press doesn't market books that "make it" in the big seller sense. Their books "make it" because they are useful to people who need them and they sell for years and years and authors slowly and consistently collect royalties.

I told her how I might have taken in $500 or so in royalties from my book, Race and Class on Campus: Conversations with Ricardo's Daughter, published in 1997.

I didn't tell her how yesterday at lunch (that I got to join thanks to her not calling) Ted Robbins, Tom, and I had a good laugh as Ted joked about the whole idea of still us believing that you can make money as a result of creating intellectual property.

She said, if I was more comfortable working through an agent, she is fine with that.

Next steps

Charisse said the next step would be for me to work on a chapter and run it by her. I said, I'd do that. (O.K., now what do I do?)

She didn't ask me to prepare a formal proposal. I might anyway. I know how to do that.

Then she asked me when I'd like for her to give me a call "to nudge me along. In a couple of months?"

That struck me. Months? I've been telling my students that in today's Internet news world, there are no weekly or even daily deadlines. The deadline is every ten minutes.

I suggested that she let me get back to her. Is next Thursday too anxious? I'll at least email her tomorrow about how much I enjoyed talking to her.

After we finished talking about the book, I wanted to ask her a ton of questions about herself --my reporter's curiosity kicking in. I had googled her and there were plenty of interesting things I wanted to ask about, but it seemed too stalky. One cool thing though, a big deal for a small town Arizonan, is that she is the second person I now know who had their wedding written up in the N.Y. Times. The first was Congresswoman Gabriel Giffords.

We finished our conversation and in moments I transformed back from a potential big time writer through a moment or two as a low ranking university professor, to being a student in a remedial math class at Pima Community College. It was back to section 2.2, graphing functions.

Didn't talk -- Yet

2008-09-26T11:04:00.003-07:00

I cleared my desk and my head. I had three good "math for journalists" books in front of me along with a list of topics I thought should be in my book. At 11:55 a.m. I shut my office door in anticipation of the call from the publisher.

12 noon. Nothing.

12:05. Maybe she was fixing her hair before the call.

12:10. Perhaps the 80 percent rule was going to kick in. That goes something like: If you're expecting something to happen, 10% of the time it does. 10% of the time it won't. But 80% of the time, it gets put on hold.

12:15. OK, Tom Miller and Ted Robbins are waiting for me to have lunch with them at Beyond Bread, a 10 minute bike ride away. I'm outta here.

I called and left a message saying that I hoped I got the time and date right, would be around tomorrow, and headed out.

Tom's two best quips:

"Well, there goes your best seller."

and, with his voice of experience speaking:

"You know, Jay, if a publisher stands you up for an appointment, it means thay must offer you a contract."

She called at 1:00 but I didn't hear or feel the phone. After I got back to my office, I got her message explaining what happened. Their publishing house is being acquired by a larger one and the place was crawling with executives and she was part of all kinds of meetings and couldn't break away to call me. O.K., I've been there.

So, I've spent the last hour and a half on the computer doing graphing problems to get ready for Monday's quiz. I promised myself that I wouldn't check either my email or the New York Times until I got through section 2.2 (I need to work through 2.6 this weekend). When I came up for air and checked my email, I saw in the subject line: "Talk today?"

I clicked and read this message:
------------------------------------------------------

"Jay,I am so sorry about yesterday. I found myself in a meeting with my boss,my boss's boss, and a xxxx exec and could not easily extract myself. You said in your voicemail that you'd have some time today to talk. Would around 3pm EST work for you?

Thanks for your understanding.

Best,
xxxxx "

----------------------------------------------------

I'll report back after lunch.

New Insights

2008-09-24T22:43:00.002-07:00

My classmates

One of today’s insights was about empathy.

At the end of class today, there were three students still standing (actually sitting). Everyone else had bailed – some early, some late. Besides me, there were two probably freshmen females, who were both distinguished by having a heart.

They approached Prof. John and offered some suggestions about how to get students to stay longer. John seemed puzzled and then asked if it was disruptive to them that other students left during class. They said yes, but what bothered them was how rude and disrespectful they thought it was. I couldn’t tell how John felt about their comments, but I admired both of them for their concern and compassion.

The class is made up primarily of freshmen who didn’t qualify to get into “college algebra” which they need to be admitted into some majors. Their age category was verified when I overheard one of them remark, “I got my skateboard fixed. I went to the hardware store and got some screws for it.”

The class seems to be made up of four types of kids.

There are students who have either dropped the class or stopped coming. I suppose some of them will show up to take exams and hope for the best. They may even know the material and just need the class on their transcripts.

A handful of students attend about half of each session, are quiet enough, take notes, and just seem to be there.

The “high self esteem” group is not happy to be in class and does not have much patience (or, respect) for our teacher. They are the ones who suggest that class end early, that everyone get A’s, make eye contact and giggle if John stumbles over anything, and get up and leave when they've had enough for the day. These kids have personalities. They’re fun and sometimes funny and probably have plenty of friends. But, as I sat in a class given by a community college for no university credit, I thought back 25 years to a sign hanging on the wall behind a news director’s desk at a TV station where I worked. The sign read something like, “If you’re that spectacular, why are you still working in Peoria?”

And there are the couple of students who have been blessed (I hope) with more than the average share of empathy.

During our first class, I have already forgotten exactly when – after class or during the break – one girl asked out loud to no one in particular, “Why is everyone being so mean?” I thought good things about her. She was one of the girls who stayed until John finished the last problem on the board today. She was the one who first approached him about students leaving during his teaching. I don’t need to embarrass her here by using her name but she is a freshman, out of state student. She hopes to major in business and needs this class and says she doesn’t do well in math. She feels for the teacher and it bothers her personally that many of her classmates are “rude.” She’s not sure he even notices the rudeness, but, even so . . .

I think I have a lot to learn from her.

Fessing up

Before class started I was at my desk writing notes – like the quote about the skateboard. One of the students was curious enough to comment on my writing in my yellow legal pad and ask about it. I said was taking notes about the class and blogging about it. There were probably six or eight students in the classroom at the time, and they all looked up. There were a few more questions about me and who I was and about my blog’s address. I told them about this blog and a couple immediately typed the URL into their laptops. That’s why there was a spike in readership at about 4 today.

When I said I was taking notes about the class in general, and after I let them know about this blog, several of them piped up and said I should write a book about the experience. As soon as I said that I’m thinking about it, several said, “I wanna be in it.” I smiled to myself and thought, “Are you sure?” But I also smiled because, even at 18 years old, still, they instinctively seemed to feel that if my story were in a book, it was real. The Internet doesn’t really count. Ink on paper.

First experience feeling lost in symbols

Today’s other insight was what it felt like to be clueless.

One of the reasons I am starting this little math odyssey is to put myself into situations where I “don’t have a clue” and see what happens. That happened today, already.

John was at the board, going as slowly and deliberately as he could. He was carefully explaining and demonstrating manipulating functions algebraically and how to use the “point slope form” to solve problems. He was speaking perfect English and writing letters and numbers on the board that I could identify, and I might as well have been in a classroom in Korea. Not exactly. I could grasp phrases and once the problems were simplified into a “solve for x” format, I was back with the program. But what puzzled me, was that this was supposed to be (still) the easy review part of the course. We’re barely on chapter 2 of a 14 chapter book that we are supposed to get through.

Most of my classmates seemed comfortable. After all, I learned, they had this material last year as high school seniors. I knew should be able to follow this stuff and I was afraid I was missing something obvious.

That thought brought me back to 4th grade band. I did well on the music aptitude tests. I could differentiate pitch and mimic back rhythms from memory. I was assigned a beautiful coronet and could make sounds. I quickly learned a couple of scales in one octave. But I missed an important point of information. It never occurred to me and no one ever told me that note placement on the staff related to pitch, not just finger placement on the keys. When the notes, by name, repeated on the next octave, I just didn’t get the concept that the sound needed to be higher in pitch as it worked its way up the staff. It wasn’t just another set of buttons to push to get a C or F. I didn’t put that concept together until years after I quit band.

I’m hoping these linear function things that we’re learning about now don’t have something “obvious” going on that I’m totally missing. If I find out, I’ll tell you.

First appointment with the (my?) publisher

My telephone appointment with the publisher’s senior acquisitions editor is tomorrow at noon. I had hoped to spend a good part of today preparing, but didn’t for even a minute. I thought about it on my bike ride home and feel good. The best case scenario could be great. Any worst case scenario, not good, but not too bad either.

Not bad scenario: I have a good visit on the phone with a nice lady and we have a short brainstorming session that is stimulating but she or I or both of us realize we really don’t have a project.

Bad case scenario: We like the idea, I commit, we sign contracts, and I can’t get it done. I’d hate that.

Other bad case scenario: I write “The Minimal Math Book for Journalists,” and it is bad. It either doesn’t get published or get’s published and no one like it or buys it.

Best case scenario: I write a useful and cleverly illustrated “Minimal Math Book for Journalists” and it becomes a standard tool for students and working journalists all over the world for years to come, sort of like “Elements of Style” but about numbers. Nice daydream.

I’ll let you know how the phone call went in my next post.

The Book, the Quiz

2008-09-22T21:24:00.002-07:00

The book

I arrived at my office, parked my bike to the left of my desk, cranked up the computer, and clicked on my email. What a nice surprise. The first message I noticed in the subject line was "math guide for journalists." The senior acquisitions editor wrote me back. Here's her note:

"Jay,

Thanks for the response with all of your feedback on the books already out there. Let's go ahead and talk this week about the book idea and see if it makes sense to pursue it. I'll plan to call you on Thursday at 3pm EST. Does that work?

Best, ------ "

Well, why not?

I wrote her back (making 100% sure I spelled her name correctly):

"Thursday at 3 p.m your time, noon my time will be great. I look forward to visiting with you. Meantime, let's have fun watching congress this week.

Jay "

I'll report back.

-----------------------------------
The Quiz

Interesting insight again.

In my last post I wrote about precision. I went into this very easy quiz knowing that I knew the elementary material Prof. John would put up on the board for us. I also figured that I would make a stupid mistake just by being careles but I should try not to.

During my 11 o'clock features class I lectured my own students about how important it was to be careful, to go slow enough, to re-read copy. I told myself I'd be careful on my first quiz, go slow enough, and re-read my answers.

The material was easy and everyone was going through the problems fairly quickly. So was I. I even told myself, "OK, go over everything before you turn the paper in." Did I? Of course not.

John went over the answers immediately. When he was half way through question 5, I'm pretty sure three or four of my classmates turned around when I said, "dang!." As part of a problem, nested inside a bunch of brackets and parenthesis you were supposed to multiply 2 x 3 and then square the answer (36, by the way). Racing through the test I saw the two and the 3 and my mind went "five." I squared 5 to get 25 and that messed up the rest of the problem. O.K., a lesson learned yet again.

Just today, I handed a paper back to a student who wrote "window seal" instead of "window sill." After my quiz experience, I know I probably shouldn't have drawn a picture of a baby seal balancing a ball on his nose in the margin by his very innocent and embarrassing error.

Can you Learn Precision?

2008-09-21T21:51:00.003-07:00

I'm studying for my first quiz. It will be tomorrow at 4 p.m.

The material is easy, stuff I could do in junior high school and certainly 9th grade. What's missing on my part though is precision.

I preach to students about finding just the right word or just the right light or framing for a photograph. But the fact is (I think) that there isn't any just right word or just right structure or just right light or just right framing or just right point of view. It's what you pick, and if it works, it works.

The numbers have to be right. One tiny mistake and the whole thing's wrong and gets wronger by the minute. And I'm making lots of tiny mistakes. It's being just like earlier in the month when I was doing those addition problems when I could add the same list of numbers three times and get three different answers. When I became very, very careful and slowed down a lot, I'd more often get it right.

This seems to be a whole different way of thinking or at least proceeding going on here.

I wonder, can you be imaginative and deliberate and careful and precise all at the same time? It has always seemed to me that deliberate and careful and precise usually kill imaginative, creative, and resourceful.

One of the reasons I decided to pursue math was to give myself the chance to explore new ways of thinking, new ways of approaching problems and solving them, and to learn how other people approach the world. Well, I'm getting my first taste already. I'm not frustrated, just curious. Can you learn to be careful enough to be accurate? What are the costs of being that careful? Is it simply laziness or is being precise its own skill and you can acquire? And if you can acquire that skill it probably doesn't happen by typing words into a computer.

I'm off to work on solving an equation that I've already done twice. The quiz should be fine.

I'm In -- And My Book Might Have Life

2008-09-19T09:08:00.004-07:00

Our Second Session

I guess it was delusions of grandeur, or more likely, just delusion that kicked in during the first five minutes of Wednesday's class.

About eight or nine students were in class when I got there and more trickled in. Students started trying to make sense of our previous class. Some quotes from the students:

"I shoulda brought a pillow."
"I feel bad. We were mean."
"What's his name?"
"Maybe we should all leave at five instead of six."

At 4 o'clock, the beginning of class, John Lapeyre, our professor, wasn't there.

I was writing notes about the students when it kicked in. Me thinking: "O.K., a room full of freshmen and sophomores. A whiteboard, this time with markers on the tray. A textbook. No teacher. We have our first quiz on Monday. I bet I could teach the class. It would be cool to go from beginning math student to teaching math in a classroom at a major university within a week."

My mental checklist included how I would involve the students, what I would cover in how much time, how I would introduce myself, when to bring students up to the board, and I began wondering whether or not I should bill Pima College for the two hours. Then Prof. Lapeyre walked in. Dang! Or maybe, Whew! And class started.

The Minimal Math Book for Journalists

The book may not be dead.

Yesterday, during one of the thousand times I checked my email inbox, I noticed the subject line: "math guide for journalists." That got my attention. I clicked and saw this note. (By the way, I thought it would be smart for me not to share the writer's name or her company. If I get to talk with her, I'll ask if I can.) Anyway, here's what she wrote:

Dear Jay (if I may?),

Hi there, greetings from DC. I hope this message finds you well. My name is xxxxxx and I’m the chief acquisitions editor with the college division of xxx Press. Your colleague, David Cuillier, mentioned that you’re interested in writing a brief math guide for journalists. David and I are working together on his book, and he was very nice to let me know about your plans. It sounds like a great project and one I’d be very interested in hearing more about. Have you already drafted a proposal that you’re willing to share? Or would it be useful to you if we spoke on the phone before you started committing ideas to paper? I’d be happy to give you a call—just let me know a convenient time to reach you.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Kind regards,
xxxxxxxx

So, is that cool, or what?

I immediately emailed her back saying I'd like to talk with her. Why not? In what was probably a self-sabotaging move, I also included the thoughts I shared here last week about how good those two other books were and that what I had in mind probably wasn't really needed. Bad marketing on my part.

At the same time, Dave tells me that from the publisher's point of view, it would be good for them to have their own math for journalists book on their list.

I hope she and I get to talk and see where it goes, if anywhere. Plus, she seems like a nice person. I do think it would be useful to have a fun and funny and hopefully easy book for journalists who don't do numbers. I wonder whether "The Dumbed Down Math Book for Journalists," is too close to a copyright violation of the "For Dummies" series.

She hasn't called yet. Dang.

Jumping In

So I opened the little red Swiss army knife on my key chain (fourth in a series -- the others confiscated by homeland security at various airports to protect America) and gently pricked a hole in the plastic that was protecting the book packet (and me). I decided to commit.

The 750 page book felt like it weighed 50 lbs. There was a solutions manual, a cd with videos about math that I haven't opened, a password to get internet access to what I imagine is more instruction. Professor Lapeyre intends to blow off everything except for what's in the book. Fine by me.

As I glanced through the book, it didn't look as overwhelmingly scary as I thought it might. Still, there were plenty of words that got my attention: "functions" always gets me.

"Elimination Using Matrices" made me think of a scary laxative. "

"Radical Expressions." O.K., here's one from the olden days: "Make love, not war."

"Complex Radical Expressions." Marxist theory?

"Synthetic Division." OK, lycra in this pile.

You know how your mind makes up new words toward the end of the game in scrabble? My math book -- just the table of contents -- was already doing that to me.

Section 10.3 read, "Conic Sections: Hyperbolas."

I saw: "Comic Sections: Hyperbole."

Focus, Jay, focus.

Blog Readers

Justin Adler, a former student, has a fun blog called "Where's Paul McPherson?" Right now, Justin is writing about his adventures during a semester abroad in Argentina. He sent some of his readers my way and two of them clicked on and left comments. I think they are readers numbers three and four. Hi guys!

Anthony is working on his MBA and needs to learn about what a derivative is in economics.

Seth who is a UA engineering major wrote, "If your fear of numbers is in any way comparable to my fear for words, I wish you luck! If it helps, I always viewed the desks as a comforting reminder of how many have been in the same position I am sitting in at the moment, and went on to graduate. Tear open that shrink wrap."

Good thoughts Seth. I've never thought of desks that way. Nice insight. You know, you might be a writer even if you don't think so right now.

Gems from John

"If it doesn't work, you draw a line through it and start the next thing."

On taking shortcuts while solving problems: "It's like rock climbing. You can cut corners, but eventually you pay the price."

Still in Shrinkwrap - My First Class Session

2008-09-15T20:48:00.002-07:00

My books are still in their shrink wrap.

My first class met today and I met my new teacher and saw my fellow students. Here's how it went.

I found Engineering 303 just north of Old Main on the University of Arizona Campus. As I approached the building from my office, it occurred to me that my dad might have taken classes in that building during the middle 1930s. When I entered the room, it further seemed as if he could have been in not only that classroom, but in the very desk.

The room had a whiteboard rather than a black chalkboard. It had an American flag mounted just over a copy of the U.S. Constitution. My desk seemed as if were bought on special from a high end thrift shop or a low end antique store. It was one of those desks with only half a surface. I've never figured out why they did that. It was wood and it must have lost its finish back in the 1950s when the rest of the world was moving to Formica surfaces. It wiggled nicely -- about two inches left to right and about one inch front to back, with squeaks.

As I entered the classroom (me - late 50s, white shirt, beard) Inoticed how the students looked at me and quickly announced that I was not the professor, just one of them. The "them" were (was?) a room full of 20 year olds, all 30 of whom seemed they'd rather be anywhere else. I imagine there are some bright enough kids in the class, but they did not look like Arizona's "world class" University's most shining stars. On the other hand, I was in there with them, all of us hoping to get through a class that we all should have mastered during out sophomore years in high school.

Four p.m. and the teacher hadn't showed up. What to do? At about five after four I decided to call the Pima College Math Department and ask, "What's up?" I asked a young man who was playing on his MacBook to try to find that phone number for me. He couldn't. I called April at the Journalism Dept. office. She gave it to me instantly. I called but after several minutes on the phone, a tall, youngish (early 30s?) man in a blue tee-shirt, blue shorts, and black low-top tennis shoes walked in. 4:10 p.m. This was obviously not the retired physics professor from Montana who I had expected.

The teacher spent a couple of minutes getting a feel for the class. How many of the of us had textbooks? About seven. He offered to scan some of the pages and put them online until folks bought their books. One girl wanted to add the class. Another couldn't figure out which section she was in. Was it this one? The prof didn't have a class roster. He didn't yet have a syllabus. He was polite. "I wish I could help you."

There would be no homework assigned. A sigh of relief from some members of the class. There would be in-class quizzes and a couple of exams. The questions on the exams would be just like the ones used during the review section. O.K.

Turning to actual material the prof explained that the first section is about translating English expressions into numerical expressions. Cool. I'd like to know how to do that. As an aside, he also said that in physics sometimes, people purposely "obfuscate the English."

Now, for some examples. No, not yet. When the teacher reached for a marker, there weren't any. After asking the class if that was normal, he headed out in search of some in other classrooms. He came back to report that there weren't any.

Some student comments as he returned empty-handed:

"Let's call it a day."
"Let's get to know each other."
"You really don't have a roster?"
"Just assign some things in the book we don't have."

Hang tight, he'd try again to find a marker for the white board.

While he was out, three students slipped out the door.

This time, success. Black erasable marker in hand, our professor headed for the board.

He flipped to the beginning of the book and picked out a couple of confidence building review examples. Our job was to write a numerical expression based on a phrase.

The first one: "Six less than a number." O.K., that would be x=n-6.

Should I break the seal on my book's shrink wrap and commit. Not yet.

The teacher offered some advice for us as we began to solve problems: "If you don't know where to start, try something anyway. Write something down."

I've said that same thing to my own journalism students about writing stories. I've done it myself. Start writing and see what comes out. I could relate. Cool.

Next example: "Sixty-five percent of a number." I can do this. .65x.

It occurred to me that I could also do that in 7th grade.

Miss Cronin, my seventh grade math teacher popped into my mind. She was my one and only good math teacher - ever. No telling how old she was. She seemed old but she might have been 42 or 38. She was tall, thin, unmarried, and dedicated to math. She bragged about how she had been a math major rather than an education major. And I learned more in her class about numbers than in any single class before or since, through my bachelors, MBA, and Ph.D. I was a whiz with a slide rule. I learned how to manipulate log tables. I figured out how high my model rockets could go using tangents. I imagine that if I had only one or two more teachers like her during high school, right now I'd be thinking about retiring from a career as an engineer rather than having had a career in editing, writing, photography, and broadcasting. I guess, in some ways I ought to be grateful to those awful math teachers I had. But at the same time, I'm glad I had Miss Cronin. Her math magic never left. I think of her and my wonderful high school English teachers when I wonder about how one person can and does make differences they will never know about.

Our prof spoke a little bit about the most elementary aspects of set theory. I wondered what the difference was between the number 6 and the set {6}. How can an integer be a set? And why aren't they equal to each other if they are the same number? He had a good answer but added, usefully, "It's sort of like having and defining rules. Like in a game. These are the rules we are going to play by." I was O.K. with that. The idea of inventing and working with and living within the rules of a defined universe seems attractive. At least it's a different world than the one I live in and might be fun to explore. I wondered whether you get to a point in math where rather than living in a black and white world, things become a zillion shades of grey again.

We moved through a few more examples and I couldn't believe how polite the students were. They were either respectful or comatose.

After about an hour the teacher looked around and said it's felt like it's been only five minutes for him at the front of the class talking and moving around, while acknowledging that it must feel like a whole longer for us sitting there listening.

At five he gave us a moment to stretch, get water, whatever.

I overheard one girl during the break say, "As long I get a good grade."

19 students came back for the second hour.

The prof talked a little about the concept of "absolute value." I knew that stuff. Good. One girl said she understood absolute value to be simply the distance from zero on the number line. Turns out, not exactly. Shades of grey already? That was interesting.

After class, he asked those of us who were left to sign in so he could check who was there against the roster when he gets it and he promised to have a syllabus on Wednesday. I wondered whether I'd open my book packet by then and begin working problems.

I was the last student to sign in. Then, I asked him is name.

"John."

"John who?"

"John Lapeyre."

The individual I was expecting was Gerald J. Lapeyre, the professor emeritus from Montana State.

I asked, "So, are you related to Professor Lapeyre from Montana?"

My new prof answered, "He's my dad."

A Good Redirection (back)

2008-09-12T18:33:00.001-07:00

My friend Tom Miller called this morning and told me he clicked into this blog.

He must have have had either a lot of time on his hands or really didn't want to get to whatever deadline was hanging over his head today. In any event, he is likely the first person other than me to have signed on. My wife hasn't. Neither has my son or any of my students.

The first thing he noticed was that my last post was about 10 days ago. What's up?

I wondered about that myself, but Tom had a theory.

Since my last post, all the books about math and journalism I ordered have arrived. I've begun reading them and they're good.

Kathleen Wickham's book, Math Tools for Journalists, covers everything I would have covered, but more. I'd use it in a second if I were teaching a semester-long one unit course. Plus, she's a good and fun writer. The only negative thing I could say about the book is that I can't imagine hardly any journalists actually working their way through its 150 pages. There is too much there and too many journalists hate math. Plus there is just too much else to read. Books that do words, not numbers.

The book I thought I wanted to write was already done by Sarah Cohen in 2001 for the IRE (Investigative Reporters and Editors). Numbers in the Newsroom is just about 100 pages, is written clearly, and approaches the math journalists need to know with a "just the facts" mentality. I couldn't do better. I wish a real publisher had picked her book up.

And, I'm thoroughly enjoying reading A Mathematician Reads the Newspaper by John Allen Paulos. It is dated with plenty of references to events in the news that occurred during 1994 or so. But what a mind opening read. The book made me see (again) that there are lots of ways to process and communicate "truth." Interpreting events by using numbers is certainly a way that I hadn't been using or even thinking about until recently. And, I suppose the word "truths" plural is a more accurate way to put it.

So, back to my mathquest and the blog and (who knows?) the book. I guess I've been putting off writing here while my research or lit review stage began and started to settle in. Well, it's settled in, partly thanks to Tom.

Tom shared his opinion that my early entries got his attention -- the idea of a math illiterate testing the waters of a whole new world. But, he thought, not even being aware of these other books, that my focus on journalism was too narrow and too quick and not particularly interesting. Turns out, he's right and it's time for me, still at the very beginnings of this journey, to, in photography terms, put the wide angle lens back on, get in receptive mode, and see what happens.

I don't know whether I can stay open-focused and just learn math and wait. I am thinking in terms of "stories," not numbers. I want to bring my tape recorder to class and interview my new professor, not about how to do algebra, but about whether he can tell me even one story where math had made a difference in his life or in the lives of any of his former students or friends. Not a general professional enhancement, but a personal life changing difference. Poems have done that for people. Songs certainly. Has math?

In the meantime, the $135 package from the Pima College bookstore is still sitting on my desk, in clear view, two feet from my keyboard, still shrink-wrapped, and for three more days, within the time frame of when I could get a full refund if I choose. The title of the book is Intermediate Algebra. I keep seeing the words, "Intimidating Algebra." I am having second thoughts about my placement. Class starts Monday.

Last week I met Dan Huff to go to Saguaro Monument East to take pictures. His son Alex was home and we started talking. Alex is taking beginning algebra at Pima College this semester. I glanced at his what felt like 15 pound textbook. I didn't think I could do the work on page 75, much less solve the incomprehensible equations on page 500. And I signed up for the next level up.

I'm back writing.

The Journalist's minimal Math Book

2008-09-02T15:05:00.002-07:00

I've found out that the easiest thing about writing a blog is putting it off. I've taught classes, bicycled in New Mexico, read a lot of NY Times and New Yorker, but not written here.

But thinking about it has not been a problem.

I have spoken with several people about the idea of a math book for journalists. Folks think it is necessary and that is an area where most newspapers and other media are either inadequate or simply screw up.

I just received my copy of "A Mathematician Reads the Newspaper" by John Allen Paulos. It seems like it will be a really fun read, but is not useful in terms of skills, just awareness.

David Cullier, a colleague at the University of Arizona and who is quite active in many national organizations told me about a math for journalists book that might already have accomplished what I have in mind. It is "Numbers in the Newsroom" by Sarah Cohen. It was published by the Investigative Reporters and Editors (IRE) organization. Dave ordered a copy for me and I look forward to seeing it.

I glanced through his copy and my initial impression was that it was right on target, but not fun. I wonder whether I could write (and have illustrated) a fun book that journalists an journalism students would actually read and use.

A Reporter's Math Book

2008-08-22T16:36:00.013-07:00

It's possible that studio artists and poets might be more math adverse than journalists, but I'm not sure. Plus, journalists are certainly better at verbally expressing how much they hate math and bragging about how little they know.

So, in that light, I've been thinking about how I ought to write and publish a book for reporters listing all the (few) things they should know how to do with numbers.

I can see a small, fit in your pocked, type book that's easy, fun, and lists the kinds of things a reporter should be able to do if a story has numbers in it. Sorta of like a reporter's notebook, but loaded with how to do things with numbers.

There are things that (most of us) reporters just don't get. For example: Don't you think it's strange that 750 is 50 percent more than 500 but 500 is only 33% less than 750? And what really is the difference between mean and median and when, from a journalistic point of view, is it best (and most ethical) to use which?

As I mentioned in the last post, the Poynter Institute's very good News University offers a free online course covering math for journalists. I have had a chance to look it over and it covers some important material, but if you're anything like me, you'll be able to get through the exercises, but will forget the stuff after about 10 minutes. I need something with me and I imagine that other people might also.

Here are three books I found that seem to be on target:

Math Tools for Journalists by Kathleen Wickham

A Mathematician Reads the Newspaper by John Allen Paulos

How to Lie With Statistics by Darrell Huff

I ordered them from Amazon and will report back to you when they arrive.

Wickham's book seems like she might have done what I want to do. If she did, great. I've got other things on my list. However, the book "weighs in" at 188 pages. Not having seen it, I suspect it might be a little more that what most journalists have the attention span to deal with. A sophomore in a one-unit semester long course, perhaps, but not a working journalist, or for that matter, a 21 year old senior. I've tried it.

So I'm thinking of titles. That's the easy and fun part, isn't it? If you have ideas, send them my way, unless you have big plans yourself.

What I like so far are:

Reporter's Math Book

The Reporter's (minimal) Math Book

Reporter's Notebook:
The Least You Need to Know (about math)

And, I'm already thinking about a table of contents.

Here are what seem like obvious topics.

Definitions
Stats
Average
Mean
Median
Mode
Percent Higher
Percent Lower
Pie Chart
Bar Chart
Debits
Credits
Balance Sheet
ROI (return on investment)
P&L (profit and loss)
Simple Interest
Compound Interest
Probability (Chances are, the chances are...)
Tools
Spreadsheets
Relational Data Bases
Ratios
Percentiles
Metric conversion
Currency conversion
Understanding surveys
Margin of Error
Sample
Confidence Interval
Standard deviation
Percent vs. points

I wonder if I'm already getting into more than a good word-loving journalist would even want to know is there, much less know how to do.

I've bounced the idea off of several friends -- all folks in the field (of journalism, not math) and have had both enthusiastic and guarded responses. I'll write about them next time.

Numeracy

2008-08-20T10:38:00.015-07:00

I learned a new word: "Numeracy."

It's kinda like literacy, but about numbers. Number literacy. Like I wish I was.

Wikipedia has a good article on numeracy. Plenty of links to other articles about it also.

I was, but shouldn't have been surprised by the amount of scholarship surrounding the idea of numeracy.

One paragraph got my attention because it directly addressed journalism:

"The Poynter Institute includes numeracy as one of the skills required by competent journalists, and Max Frankel (former executive editor of The New York Times) argues that "deploying numbers skillfully is as important to communication as deploying verbs." However, journalists often show poor numeracy skills; for example, in a study by the Society of Professional Journalists, 58% of job applicants interviewed by broadcast news directors lacked an adequate understanding of statistical materials. [8]

That got me thinking so I looked for more.

I found:

"Numeracy exercises for journalists"

A game plan for increasing math literacy in the newsroom

A Little Math Lesson for Newsies

And the Poynter Institute's terrific News University offers a free online course covering math for journalists.

I haven't had a chance to go into those websites or others in any depth at all, but in briefly looking at them, I thought that math-adverse journalists could something else -- a simple verbally based book on math for journalists. So, I thought to myself, I bet I could do that.

I'll tell you about how that's developed during the last 24 hours in my next post.

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Meantime, I bought the book, Intermediate Algebra: Concepts and Applications, seventh edition$137.45. Dang. It's $106 on Amazon. Cheaper on Half.com. When I was in the bookstore, one woman was almost screaming at the person she was with about the price of textbooks. She was so right and I wanted to tell her so, but she didn't seem in a real receptive mood. Textbook sales seem to be a national class rip-off. I wonder if there is anything to do about it.

I Gotta Buy the Book - Retail

2008-08-18T19:26:00.003-07:00

I got on the phone to get the story about the $135 textbook.

The best way, I figured, was to actually communicate with Professor Lapeyre. I called the college and they couldn't find his name in their directory. Then I called the Math Department. The nice woman who took my call couldn't find his name either. She checked with several people there and eventually figured out that the course was being offered through "The Community Campus." I should call them.

I did, and they did verify that the section I was signed up for was theirs. But they couldn't find Professor Lapeyre either. That person gave me Paul Welch's name. It didn't say in his listing, but apparently he is head of the math department.

I gave Dr. Welsh a call and he cheerfully picked up his own phone. I introduced myself and said I wanted to contact Professor Lapeyre. Dr. Welsh confirmed that Lapeyre was indeed hired -- Welsh interviewed and hired him --- but he couldn't give me his phone number. He also said he might not yet have a Pima College email account. He did confirm that Lapeyre was a physicist, but he thought he was still working and was younger than a retired prof ought to be. I'll get the answer to that later. He also said the correct pronunciation of his name is "La - PAIR."

He said I should call the bookstore back and ask for the Community Campus section.

I did, asked for the Community Campus Section, gave the course number, and was handed over to a supervisor. He confirmed the book and the price: $135. It was a whole package with a workbook, CD, video, and who knows what else. And no used copies were available. OK, I guess I gotta bike down and make the purchase.

Meantime, I checked online and there are a bunch of free tutorials about intermediate algebra. I should have all the help I need, but still wonder if I should have started at ground zero -- beginning algebra.

A Book about Back to School

2008-08-17T17:15:00.011-07:00

This morning's New York Times business section ran a story about a guy who left his journalism career to pursue a Harvard MBA.

Philip Delves Broughton wrote "Ahead of the Curve: Two Years at Harvard Business School." I haven't read the book, but the Times story said, "In 2004, dismayed over the gloomy state of newspaper journalism and his own career prospects. Mr. Broughton, then 32, quit his job as Paris bureau chief for The Daily Telegraph of London and enrolled in Harvard Business School."

Being a good journalist, he wrote a book about it. It's now (Aug. 17, 2008) at 129 on the Amazon rankings. That is a spectacular accomplishment in itself. My book, "Race and Class on Campus: Conversations with Ricardo's Daughter,"made it up to the low 400,000s. Now it's at 1,699,074. Those kinds of rankings (mine, not Philip's) are great for humility. Not too great for launching a writing career.

O.K., so I'm not gloomy about the state of newspaper journalism or my own career prospects, I'm not quitting my job, and I'm going to Pima Community College rather than Harvard Business School. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens. And perhaps writing about it.

--------------------------

Tomorrow I plan to call Pima College's math department to try to get contact info for Professor Gerald J. Lapeyre. There has to be a story there, and I need to figure out how to get the textbook for less than $150.

-----------------------

I'm still working on paperless, calculator-free addition. The exercise I'm on consists of 15 sets of 12 two-digit numbers in columns. My lack of accuracy still surprises me. I'm working on the first five sets only and I haven't yet got all of them right.

----------------------

I think I want to find other people who have learned math late and learn about their stories. If you've done that or know anyone who has and who might be willing to tell me about it, please pass along my email address (rochlin@arizona.edu) and ask them to drop me a line. Do people under 50 say, "drop me a line?"

It All Adds Up!

2008-08-15T20:39:00.007-07:00

So I can finally add well enough to move on beyond exercise 13 in "How to Calculate Quickly." I keep asking myself, "Why can't I add the numbers right every time. They're just two digit numbers and it's just addition."

So, this morning, for the 25 columns, I made myself slow down and I allowed myself to re-do a problem if I wasn't confident that it was right. A couple of times I got four different answers. I can't be that dumb or careless. But I was. So if I got the same answer twice, or in a couple of instances, three times, I went with it. Even with all that, I still got two wrong, but that gave me 92 percent and personal permission to move on.

The next exercise was to add 19 to randomly arranged numbers 1 through 99. I sailed through that. Next up, exercise 15, more two-digit addition with longer columns. Way longer. I'll report later.

I put my book purchase decision off for a little bit. I decided to email the professor to verify the name of the book and ask whether an earlier edition might work.

The instructor is listed as Gerald J. Lapeyre. I couldn't find a bio on the Pima College Web site. On Google, I found a retired physics professor from Montana State. Looking deeper I found some minutes from a Montana Board of Regents of Higher Education meeting from September 21-22, 2000/ One entry said:

"Authorization to Confer the Title of Professor Emeritus of Physics upon Gerald J. Lapeyre; Montana State University- Bozeman." Cool. An old guy. Like me.

Turns out that Professor Lapeyre also has authored several physics research papers.

I was curious about his academic interests and found this on the Montana State Web site:

"Professor Lapeyre's research in the solid state and surface science laboratory focuses on the electronic states and electron interactions in solids and at surfaces. A strong emphasis is placed on quantum properties of MBE grown III-V semiconductor surfaces. The principal spectroscopies used are polarization dependent angle-resolved photoemission spectroscopy (PARUPS) in the far and extreme ultraviolet spectral range and high resolution low energy electron loss spectroscopy (HREELS). LEED, ESCA, and Auger are used for multiple sample analysis. Two sources of photon flux are available. In the Montana State University laboratory, gas discharge lamps and x-rays are used. The MSU lab group is also a user group at the Synchrotron Radiation Center at the University of Wisconsin, where the group has its own beam line which covers the spectral range from about 5 to 1000 eV."

I didn't understand a word of that either.

I wonder if my teacher will be his son? Or by amazing coincidence, another human named Gerald J. Lapeyre. Or, did professor Lapeyre retire to Tucson and decide to teach a community college algebra class just to keep busy.

I sorta hope it is him. I've been wanting to engage in a discussion with a physicist about the big bang, that they all believe it. My question is basically: Is there a word for the circumstance where all assumptions are apparently correct and all the math is done correctly but the entire process proves a phenomenon that is absurd on its face? Like the big bang theory.

The Textbook Costs WHAT!!@#$%^

2008-08-13T20:15:00.006-07:00

I went down to Pima College's downtown campus to prove I was an American citizen. That went well. A woman at the "welcome" desk examined my documentation, signed the form and kept it.
I always like being at Pima College. It is such a different world than the one I am exposed to either with my friends or at work at the University of Arizona. I don't think there are any places in Tucson, or perhaps Arizona, were more different kinds of people hang in spot. Young, old, all different races, people from all over the world. People just trying to make their lives better through education. It's inspiring just being there.

I thought it would be a good idea to head over to the bookstore and buy my Math 122 textbook. I found the spot and a young woman offered me help. She walked me to the shelf. The book she showed me was Intermediate Algebra 3rd edition by Tussy and Gustafson. It was marked at $154. I couldn't believe it. She could tell. She, treating me like a nice older guy, certainly older than her father, was kind enough to show me the used versions. They were ONLY $115. I thanked her for her help and got the hell out of there.

(The following is posted about a day later than the words above. We had a huge storm that knocked power out for about 30,000 people in Tucson. We lost power at about 8:20 last night - as I was typing - and got it back about 3:00 this afternoon. We did fine, but in Tucson in the summer, life is better with air conditioning than without.)

Picking up the story, I headed down to the computer commons and figured out how to sign on. I immediately went to Amazon and found a copy of the book - I think the same edition as the one in the bookstore - for $1.99 plus $3.95 for shipping. I couldn't believe it and said, "What the Hell" and bought it with one click.

The bookstore price of the textbook convinced me more than ever that I don't want to ever force my own students to purchase textbooks. Obviously I don't know the finances, but it seems like a rip off on the face of it and I'm not going to be an enabler of ripping off students.

After I got home, it occurred to me that not every Math 122 professor would necessarily use the same book. I'd only invested about 5 bucks so I wasn't that concerned. I got online, and sure enough, the book listed for my section was different. Dang! But I'll deal with that later. There is plenty of time before class starts.

Meantime, I'm still struggling with exercise 13 in How to Calculate Quickly. I only missed 4 out of 25 today, 84 percent. But I'm not moving on until I can get better than 90 percent. That means that I'll only get to miss two problems which will give me a 92.

Algebra. How About Addition?

2008-08-11T15:33:00.005-07:00

A whole lot of years ago I bought a book called "How to Calculate Quickly: Full Course in Speed Arithmetic," by Henry Sticker.

As I got into my latest Math Quest, I tracked the book down and looked it over. It is made up of a series of exercises that supposedly train you to add, subtract, multiply, and divide, quickly and in your head. The sort off thing that people's parent's and grandparents used to be able to do before the days of $2 calculators.

I noticed that the last time I tried this (yes, I've had an approach-avoidance relationship with numbers for a long time) I made it up to exercise 7. There are 382 of them, each harder than the last.

Right now, I am on number 13. It should be simple. It consists of adding columns of six double digit numbers in your head with techniques I have already practiced. It's just addition. Don't second graders do addition double digits?

There are 25 sets of numbers in this exercise. I forced myself to add up all of them before checking my answers. I missed 11. To figure out how pitiful my performance was, I wanted to know my percentage of correct answers. I figured, in my head that each answer was worth 4 percent. OK, that gave me 54 percent, right? Except it didn't. As I was sitting here typing, I checked that on a calculator, and yes, the answers are worth 4 percent each, but missing 11 and getting 14 correct gave me 56 percent.

I am in more trouble than I imagined.

Thinking about Infinity

2008-08-09T14:53:00.008-07:00

Sitting at a computer, listening to Willie Nelson on Pandora.com, and thinking about infinity. Not bad.

Even though I got through college basically skipping math and science, I still have always spent time thinking about the kinds of things that math supposedly holds the answers to. Like infinity.

I like the idea of infinity because the idea is one of those things that that make really smart people crazy and less smart people invent wonderful stories like god, the big bang, and black holes.

So, a couple of weeks ago I was in Oceanside, Calif. with Gail, my wife, and Muriel, my mother in law. We stayed at a fancy condo and it came with books and sure enough, there was a book about infinity. It got my attention.

The book was A Brief History of Infinity by Brian Clegg.

The book was readable (amazing) by a math illiterate like me. Clegg goes through a whole history of how people through time have dealt with the idea of infinity. Infinity's earliest references, definitions. problems, how it relates to calculus, and the key people who have tried to wrestle with the concept of infinity through the ages. He even talks about how the infinity symbol came to be.

Clegg begins each chapter with a pithy quote. Here are two of my favorites:

"Our knowledge can only be finite, while our ignorance must necessarily be infinite." Karl Popper, Conjectures and Refutations.

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former." Attributed to Albert Einstein (reputedly said at a press conference in the 1930s).

The book was a great diversion, but I need to start thinking about doing math rather than reading about it. It's time to actually register for a class. Later.

Are You a High School Graduate?

2008-08-08T20:37:00.009-07:00

The Pima Community College downtown campus offers assessment tests on a walk in basis every day until 7 p.m. I decided to give it a try and see where I stand.

When I decided to begin this number journey, part of my reason was to experience new things and new worlds. Little ones, and perhaps big ones. I got my first little one quickly.

I marched up to the testing center and said I wanted to take the math assessment test. The first question the (very nice) person behind the desk asked me was, "Are you a high school graduate?" That was new. I don't recall ever having been asked that ever, even as an 18 or 19 year old. I might have blinked at the question. In an instant I wondered whether I wanted to mention my MBA or Ph.D. or that I was a professor. I caught myself and said, "yes."

That person was kind enough to look up my Pima College ID number. I had one because I had taken first year Spanish and two classes about Dreamweaver, the web design program. She then asked what test I was interested in. I said algebra.

In moments I was directed to a computer in the testing lab. There were three sheets of scrap paper, a pencil, and a calculator on the desk. The screen give directions about getting started.

After the first three questions I walked back to the nice lady at the desk and explained that I needed an easier test. I was already over my head. She told me not to worry -- that the test was programmed to work me into easier questions if necessary and because the program was created by the folks who designed the ACT, it will accurately place me in the appropriate level of class. But, she said, I needed to answer each question, to get to the next one.

I slunk back to the computer and soldiered on. I guessed the answers to the next several questions -- pretty much in fear that I might guess right, and would make the computer place me in a class that I had no business being in. Finally, I got some answers right and then some more. I guess I worked my way down to my level. Soon, in fact in only 16 minutes and 49 seconds (it said on the print out of my results) I was done.

My score was 49. That, of course meant nothing to me.

The woman who I was becoming more familiar with, told me that score placed me in "intermediate algebra."

Yikes! I was sure I should have landed in beginning algebra. But no, she assured me, I was right in the middle of the intermediate algebra range on my score and I should do fine. I did take some reassurance in the fact that you don't get college credit for what I now learned was officially math 122.

O.K. Next task: Find a class.

Where to Start?

2008-08-07T10:47:00.005-07:00

Because I work at the University of Arizona, I thought it would make sense to sign up for a class through the Math Department. I got online and scanned their courses and couldn't tell where I fit.

The UA offers a math assessment test that attempts to determine where you should land when you sign up for a course. I suppose similar tests are offered in languages also. Makes sense. I clicked the link to sniff around.

There are two "practice tests" that allow you to get a general feel for how it works and get a general idea of where you fit. Here's how they explain it:

"There are two different Math Readiness Tests: the MRT A and the more advanced MRT B. Your choice of test and your test performance will affect your placement
code. (Our placement process will also take other factors into consideration.) "

I looked at the "easy" test A, tried a few, had a good chuckle, and said, "Wow. I've got a long way to go. It would be silly to even give that test a try. I couldn't do one.

Fortunately, Tucson has a great community college. I went to the Pima Community College web site and continued my search there. They had a whole slew of math courses, many of which indicated that no college credit would be given for that class. That sounded reassuring.

I found the Pima College assessment test page and clicked onto their pre-algebra test. Not bad, I could do it. Next I went to the elementary algebra page. Barely. College algebra, not a chance. OK, the next thing to do was head on down to the campus and take the test.

Wondering about Math

2008-08-06T19:32:00.004-07:00

Thanks for landing here. This blog is about my new adventure with numbers that will start in earnest in about two and a half weeks.

Math came easy to me as a kid. One of my best teachers ever was Miss Cronin for seventh grade math. She taught me about the magic of logarithms and how to use a slide rule to multiple digits. I thought I wanted to be an aeronautical engineer, partly beasue of a great eppisode of "My Three Sons" with Fred McMurry. And I really liked my slide rule. For the last 15 years I've wanted to write a New Yorker Article about the person in the world who made the last ever slide rule. I also wanted to write a book interviewing famous scientists about their first or favorite slide rules. I probably won't get to that because they are all starting to die.

My eighth grade math teacher wanted to talk about poetry. We learned about inspirational poetry. He wanted to form "the whole human being" rather than teach math. Well, I formed as a human being. My math talent didn't.

I made it through college, for all practical purposes, without ever taking a math or science course. I learned how to work the system, and a ton of other good stuff. But not math. Seth, my 22-year-old son passed me in math when he was in about sixth grade. My wife was a math minor in college. They both know all kinds of things I don't. I'm not competitive, but I still wonder what I'm missing.

Truthfully, I can't think of a time in my life where I've actually needed math. I can't think of a time where any of my friends, other than the engineers, have ever needed math. But, still, for some reason , I'm drawn to it.

I tried to read a book about calculus. Not how to do calculus, just about calculus. Couldn't get through it. I just finished a book about infinity. It was called A Brief History of Infinity. Got through it and loved it.

I was having a drink with a history professor today. He said he was very happy thank you being a math illiterate. I'm happy also. But still curious. What do those squiggles mean? The weird looking E? The elongated S. Do people really make sense of those formulas all over blackboards in movies like "A Beautiful Mind? How do smart guys use math to prove something as nutty as the big bang and actually believe it? Is math, once you actually do it, less fun today because computers do it, or more fun because you can do more stuff and ask more questions?

Right now, I can use a calculator and find square roots and percentages and all that. I can sometimes figure out one x but not if there is a y in the hood. I like the idea of a "pure language" like I imagine mathematics is. But I also wonder whether, the more you get into it, the less pure, or more grey it gets, like so many other things.

I'm 58 and I work with words and pictures. Right now I teach journalism at the University of Arizona. This coming semester I am taking a cut in my course load to pursue a "creative activity." I am choosing to pursue math.

Next, I'll tell you about my trip to Pima Community College to take the math assessment exam.