Valentine's Day Rambling

My dad died on Valentine's Day, 1991. He'd had lung cancer for some time before-hand, and had been at home in a hospice program for a while, so it wasn't exactly unexpected. I was in third grade, and on the day my bus driver didn't notice that I was on the bus until after we passed our driveway. She ended up stopping at the corner of our property, and on my short walk through our front yard, my mom met me outside and told me the news. At least, that's how I remember it.

Valentine's day is one of the days every year my mom can expect a call from me, though my father's death rarely gets an overt mention. She's never re-married, or, as far as I know, been at all involved with anybody since. I guess my sister and I kept her fairly occupied as we were growing up. She's got some sort of shared plot and headstone already arranged where my father is buried, and I've always wonder if that sort of commitment was why she never found (looked for?) anybody else. Probably I could ask.

It's easy to wonder what affects my father's death has had on my life since - how being that close to death at that age has impacted my view of life and death. An article that's come up a few times recently in my news feed is How Doctors Die (mirror, which I guess is why it showed up multiple times for me). I want to be allowed to die, if I'm in a bad way. Of course, it's easy to say that when you're something like young and healthy. But hey, accidents happen. If I end up a mess in the hospital tomorrow, it'd be totally ok to let me go. Seriously. It's not like I'm doing much particularly useful anyway.

My mother and sister would, naturally, be the most affected if I died, and I hope I don't put them through that any time soon. My cats might go hungry for a day or two until somebody sorted them out, but I'm sure somebody'd take them, and probably do a better job with them than I do. Folks at work would notice I was gone, and I humor myself that there'd be a notable productivity hit in the project I'm on, at least until they hired somebody else. But it's a great place to work, and I don't think they'd have a hard time finding another person who thought so. A friend or two might think about me occasionally, but they'll be fine. Like damn near everybody else, my death would go practically unnoticed in the wider world. The world 10 or 100 or 1000 years from now probably looks pretty similar whether I was in it for a while longer or not. Ok, whatever, butterfly affects and all that crap, I have no way to justify that claim, but it sure is easy to believe. But why should it matter if my life or death goes unnoticed? What's the point of any of it?

I think, maybe, I've always sort of figured there wasn't any real point to any of it. People come and go, the world keeps spinning, the universe goes on. I think this didn't use to bother me. Just enjoy what you're given, and when it's up, goodbye. Lately, I seem to be having a harder time accepting this, and I don't really know why (getting old!). There seems little point to working more hours or less, eating healthier or having pizza and beer all the time, running a bit or just sitting on my ass the whole time, find something more productive to do than reading my news or not, ...

Perhaps it's a growing sense of indebtedness. I've been given more than I deserve - a loving family, health, wealth, leisure, a life of comfort and ease, ... - and I've done f* all with any of it. I subjected some students to lectures, homework, and exams taught some folks formal symbol manipulation (algebra) which happened to have d/dx or ∫-symbols in it calculus for a few years, but that doesn't make up for anything at all (in fact, I feel I owe them an apology). I suppose you could find people at work who would say that what we're doing saves lives, but it never really feels like that. And why should we save those lives instead of those ones over there? I don't know what it is I should be doing. What could I do that would seem worthwhile? What gives your life purpose?

Unless I'm missing something, I guess a lot of people get their sense of purpose from their religion - I don't have that. I didn't grow up going to church, and, honestly, am glad for it. I figure I'm a bit like Laplace, seeing no need for those sorts of assumptions about how the world works. Mostly I see people's religions as accidents of their birth and the fact that they were, like their parents before them, taken to church before they knew much about critical thinking. And if your understanding about how the universe works is an accident of which country your grew up in, or your parents before you, it can only hold so much truth. Besides, most of the major religions are thousands of years old, and it just doesn't seem like we should be trusting people from that long ago to tell us how things work. We've learned some things since then. But I digress (from my rambling? Is that possible?).

Sometimes I wonder if people find a purpose in life through a relationship. I could let myself die and nobody would notice, but if I were married, well, there's her to think about - or "In my nothing, you meant everything to me". Actually, I sort of thought I might be heading in to a relationship recently (I was wrong, in case you were wondering (if you've read this far into my neurosis, you'll agree she's better off)), and something like this very thought occurred to me. But, then, it doesn't really seem fair to put that sort of pressure on somebody else. Perhaps a relationship doesn't give you a sense of purpose, it just makes it easier to forget the purposelessness. Find somebody that distracts you and you're set.

Or maybe you find some purpose once you've got kids. Hell of a gamble, and, damn, why should I have kids? I hardly know what to do with my own self, let alone anybody else. Even having cats has made me wonder if I should be allowed to have that sort of responsibility. And, damn, the purpose of your life is to make some more people? Aren't there enough people around? I remember, even in high school, thinking this sort of thing. My mom always says how much she loves seeing my sister and I, how there's little she'd rather do. It sort of makes me sad, that I'm what she has to look forward to, or whatever. A few times recently I've seen my grandmother at family gatherings, and it always seems like she's just waiting to die (she honestly may have said as much herself). Why the crap would I want that? What am I supposed to do instead?

It seems to me, when talking about death and not seeing a point, one's probably gotta get around to thinking about suicide before too long. Not necessarily your own, just the subject itself. Of course, it also seems a difficult topic to talk about. Like maybe if you do people will assume you are suicidal, and will try to "help" you out of it. To be honest, I'm not sure I really see the problem with suicide, why there's such a fuss, or stigma. I've got no plans for it for myself any time soon - like I said, I've got the responsibility of my cats, and don't want to cause a hassle for my family. But suppose, 10, 20 years from now, my family's dead and I have no responsibilities to anybody in particular, and haven't found a point. Why shouldn't I just wander off into the middle of nowhere and disappear?

Maybe I just want there to be no point. It hurts less to fail to achieve whatever goals you've got if you think they're pointless anyway. There's less pressure to make good decisions when it doesn't matter. Want pizza and beer for dinner, cake for breakfast? Go for it! Don't want to do some errand you're supposed to do this weekend? Screw it! Procrastinate! Maybe you'll die in a car crash on your way to work tomorrow anyway. Of course, if you weren't depressed enough about the lack of a point, start making some mildly bad decisions for yourself. Adopt some bad habits. Watch the broken window theory at work in your own life.

So, that's me. Welcome to my world.

Questioning Running

On my run yesterday, and probably a fair number of other runs in the past, I was sort of wondering what I was doing. Why am I getting up between 5 and 5:30 to start an hour-long run (say) around 6:30, all before a full day of work? And maybe running in the evening? And probably waking up earlier on the weekend to run even longer?

These aren't particularly comfortable questions to be thinking about less than an hour in. Running on my own, around town, it becomes pretty easy to bail early on whatever mileage I had in mind for the day. Not exactly a good training strategy.

But then, what, exactly, am I training for? I'm not currently signed up for any runs at a mileage I'm unsure about. I've now got a 10k in a few weeks (as part of a team relay triathalon), and the Tough Mudder in October, but that's all I'm currently signed up for. I'd like to do Boston in the spring, but that's still a while.

The big race on my mind is the UROC 100k at the end of September. I know I'm not one of the "Champions", but the race is for anybody, and last year I decided that my goal for this year was to do the GEER 100k, which has become UROC. Of course, my goal also included the Bel Monte 50 miler in the spring, which I bailed on pretty early in. That means my longest run to date is 36 miles, and lately I've only been averaging about 60 miles a week. I'm supposed to translate that into 60 miles in a day, 2 months from now? I kind of doubt it. And my thought is that if I'm not sure going in that I can finish, and that I want it enough, that I'll just quit again. It's sort of what I do. "When the going gets rough, I'm getting out of here."

So I think maybe I've been questioning running a bit because I'm antsy about that race, afraid of failure and all that.

Yesterday, I was thinking that maybe the ultra running I've had my eye on for a while isn't something I actually want for myself as much anymore. Sure, I want to want it, but I'm pretty lazy. I was thinking that maybe I've been thinking for that past few years that I wanted to run ultras because I didn't like grad school. My last few years of grad school were... not good. Probably I was "running away," which, I reckon, ultras are probably good for (not that that's why everybody does them). Perhaps I'm not actually "running toward" any sort of goal like "testing myself" or for some sort of "real" experience. Now that grad school is finally over with, and I've got a great job that I love, maybe I don't actually feel the need to try to run 50, 60, 100 miles in a day. Maybe I could be perfectly happy spending some of the time I'd need for training on other things, like more programming, reading, learning to cook, being home so my cats aren't quite so lonely (and therefore obnoxious when I am around). Maybe I could be pretty happy running 50-60 mile weeks (less?) and occupying my other time/energy other ways. Stop stressing about making sure I get whatever miles in.

Maybe I'm just tired, either from not enough recovery time in my running, or the 57 hours on my last weekly timecard at work. Or maybe it's just the heat talking. After all, running to the tops of "mountains" makes the views that much grander, and whatever large meal afterwards practically justifiable.

Well, whatever. I took today off (from running). Perhaps I'll get my shoes on in the morning.

Outside the Academy

I recently gave a talk for the mathematics graduate seminar at the University of Georgia, since I was invited to by my old UVA roomie @christopherdrup, who is now a postdoc down there. The title of my talk was the title of this post, and was about my experience switching out of academia.

Unfortunately, some poor planning (why would anybody care to listen to what I have to say?) and verbal diarrhea obscured anything like a point that could have been made. I should have written this post before-hand, to get my thoughts together. Hopefully writing it afterwards will still be useful for somebody.

My point, if I'd focused a little, would have been something along the lines of: If you decide to stay in academia, that's great, and I wish you all the best. If you decide to get out, that's great too, and "real jobs" can be pretty awesome (crazy-better than grad school). This talk may not apply to you now (I wouldn't have listened my first year or two of grad school), but maybe store it somewhere in the background, because things change (I'd have listened two years ago).

I threw some slides together. You're not likely to get much out of just looking at them, since mostly it's just some random pictures. In what follows, I try to recount what I said (or should have, without so much babbling (hopefully)), with some indication about slide transitions.

I began (first content slide, Math) (well, after a quick intro about how I originally wanted to be a math prof, and now have a non-academic job I love), talking about how, yes, I do actually like math. I had a great time in grad school reading about continued fractions, and in the little reading group a few of us formed for number theory. Even at a broad level, the topic of my thesis work (the more involved expression on the slide) was interesting. I told them I wouldn't bother talking about what it was, since it didn't matter, which I think caught some of them by surprise.

However, I never really cared a whole lot about serious math research. I knew being a professor might involve having to do some research, but I was optimistic it could be about math education, or something. I know I never particularly cared about cohomology, or spectra, or spectral sequences, things that my classes for the last few years talked about. (transition on the first slide, to the sketch of the frustrated guy). I failed to mention that it wasn't so much an issue about just being wholly abstract and useless. That had never really bothered me. But I think when it was not only abstract and useless, but also frustrating and not fun, that's when it bothered me.

But that's ok (next slide), because mostly I was in grad school because I wanted to teach at the college level. Getting a phd seems to be a requisite step along the way, so I'd struggle through (a friend, recently, told me this was a stupid reason to go to grad school. I'm not sure about his rationale, besides liking to tell people they're stupid). Teaching was always what got me through. I think I mentioned that they'd need a reason to get through, because grad school is gonna suck a lot sometimes.

Unfortunately, a few years in (transition to the rows of desk), I started not appreciating the teaching gig either. I've come to refer to it as "institutionalized education", and I don't care for it at all. I lost the feeling that school was about the joy of learning, and that, instead, it's all about accreditation. Really a shame, but that's how I see it.

So now it all sucks. I came in liking math, and wanting to teach, and I no longer had either of those. Not a fun place to be. However, grad school wasn't all bad, and I did get a few useful things out of it. (next slide, Running) First up, running. Not much to say here. Physical exercise is probably good for you, and I encourage it, and running just happens to not require anybody else (mostly), and very little in the way of equipment. (next slide, News) Next up, a news habit. In undergrad, I know I was reading slashdot a little (I know this because I remember checking it in the computer lab where I studied abroad), but don't think I read much other news. Sometime in grad school I picked up a multi-hundred feed Reader habit, and it's one I have no intention of trying to break any time soon. I gave them a quick heads up about rss, and was encouraged that a few folks appeared to nod when I asked if anybody followed news this way.

In addition to running and reading and generally avoiding what I was supposed to be doing, I picked up a few side jobs (next slide). Not on this slide are things like: I taught the racquetball gym class one semester, and I worked as a tutor for athletes. But my first odd-job was working with Webwork (online homework system) with Jeff Holt, at UVA. He must have sent out an email to math grads, asking for folks that were interested in tagging webwork problems, so they could be searched and organized. At some point, when Jeff was going to be away for a year, they decided I could be the assistant admin the year before he left, and then the actual admin in his stead. This sounds more impressive than it is, and wasn't particularly taxing. But hey, I figured it'd be useful, because webwork's a cool thing, and I'd use it if I was going to continue teaching. Through Jeff, who has some connections at a publishing company, I got to do some "independent contractor" (I think it was called) work associated with the Rogawski calculus textbook. It started as working with their webwork problem library, debugging problems mostly, but eventually also included editing a chapter (for the second edition), and writing wrong answers for questions, for use with clickers.

More recently (last summer), I worked as an intern in software development at Rosetta Stone. I applied because the then-fiancee of one of the math grads worked there, and she suggested I apply (and acted as an awesome proxy for sending my resume in). I had a great time. I don't remember how much thesis work got done last summer (this is going in to my final year (ended up as final semester) of grad school), but my guess is not a whole lot.

At the end of the summer, I applied with Rosetta Stone to stay on (or come back?), half-time throughout the fall semester while I was still in grad school, and then starting full-time in January when I was done (either with a degree or not, I was pretty fed up with research, and had been for a while - even up in to November I almost told my advisor I was quitting). Also, on the suggestion of @drmathochist, I applied at a little place in Charlottesville, CCRi. I almost cancelled on the interview, since I basically knew Rosetta Stone would work out, and I'd enjoy it, but went anyway, and enjoyed it.

After sort of a crazy week(end) when I was debating between offers, I decided to go with CCRi (next slide, Outside (CCRi logo, boring slide)). I mentioned that maybe it's not the most typical company, but I don't really know about many others. It's a great small place, and the owner is a professor at UVA, so I think it's maybe closer to the academic end of the spectrum than other places. There's a laid back atmosphere, but lots of fun things to work on, and it's full of great people. I should mention that this was also my impression at Rosetta Stone. So while my idea of programming jobs might come from, say, Office Space, The Matrix, or Dilbert, there are other great jobs out there where you don't have to wear a tie or sit in a cubicle.

One of the things it was suggested I might talk about was what my typical day looks like (next slide). My schedule is pretty flexible, so I can get in whenever, and leave whenever, as long as I'm around for my 10am daily meeting (stand in a circle and say what you were up to yesterday, what you're planning for the day - easy, and helps you keep up with the work of others), and long enough overall to get work done. Occasionally I've got a telecon I need to be on, and once a month I need to write a quick progress report. I don't know what a TPS report is, and Lumberg never shows up and asks me to work weekends.

In grad school, you may work on the same problem for weeks or months (years) and not make much noticeable progress most of the time. These days, I do something different every few days. Longer tasks might take (me) a week or two, but I can always see my progress. I get to play with things at all levels, from the math/stats in the background, R for some computations, Java as a big framework, a database as necessary, and Javascript toward the front. While I've maybe dabbled in most of these things, I came in as (and remain) no expert (hopefully I'm improving). But the point is I can learn, and I expect anybody that's bothered starting grad school can say the same thing.

While most of my days are spent programming (which is awesome), other things come in too, to mix it up a bit. The telecons I'm still sorta getting used to (they still stress me out). But I also got to work on a white paper (here's an awesome thing we could do if you gave us money), and that was pretty fun. Every few weeks we might (depending on which project you're on at the time) have a "sprint planning" meeting, where you set some goals for 2-3 weeks out.

I talked a little about the project I'm on (upper-right), where we do threat prediction: given incident reports, where does it seem crime is likely? I also mentioned that I've learned that singular value decomposition is actually useful (I asked if any of them knew this, and didn't notice any hands up), and talked a little about how it's used for text analysis. Why didn't I know this when I was taking linear algebra?

Oh, and we've got a ping-pong table, so days typically involve some of that :)

Ok, fine, some recommendations (final slide). Again, I don't know why anybody would take advice from me. If somebody did, though, this is it: (1) Read. Hook up an rss reader, add feeds for things you are interested in (math or otherwise), and enjoy. (2) Share. Start a blog, show off the things you're doing, and you've got yourself a ready-to-go resume. Even if you've got no formal experience in something, you've got a free way to point people to something so they can see what you can do. I'd hazard a guess that what you can actually do matters more than what grades you got in whatever random classes you took in school to fulfill graduation requirements (especially because I doubt anybody looks that closely at your individual class grades). The flip side of "Share" is "Do". You gotta do something to have something to share. I hated grad school because I never felt like I should be doing the side-projects I wanted to be doing, that instead I should be directing my efforts at my thesis.

(3) Keep Your Eyes Open. Unfortunately, this recommendation could also be "Network", which I always hated hearing at job talks. I'm not a networker. At conferences I'd go and sit through talks, eat the free food, and basically not talk to people. However, look at the jobs I've had and how I got them. Jeff Holt sent out an email asking for people to work on a project, and I did that. From him, I got work with the publishing company. Later on, I put my resume in at Rosetta Stone because a friend suggested it. The same holds for my current job. For not being any good at networking, as I view it from job talks, I have to say that my network has gotten me places (that I want to be!). But since I don't want to call it networking, I'll say Keep your eyes open. Watch for opportunities, and try it if one comes along that looks interesting. You can actually get through grad school and have other jobs and run and read a lot. Of course, if you realize early enough in grad school that you want out, you could skip the grad school bit and just do the fun jobs and the running and the reading...

That's about it for my talk. There were a few questions afterwards. I'm almost certainly mis-remembering them exactly, but I think the general ideas are there...

• How much programming would you say you need to have to get a job at a place like mine? I'm sure it depends on what other skills you bring to the table, but if you can learn stuff, that's probably the best skill. If you've got a class or two under your belt, and are otherwise smart etc., that's probably sufficient to be optimistic about sending in a resume. If you take up an interest in programming, outside of official classes, blog your learning efforts, and point people at that.
• Why did you go in to math if you clearly like programming? I've been getting this one since before I started grad school. Apparently others know me better than I do. They were all right, too. But, in my defense, I wanted to teach college classes, and I wanted to teach math, not computer science. I'm not sure why, but I never really had an interest in teaching computer science.
• There was a question about useful classes (or that I took to be about useful classes, anyway). I don't remember the last useful class I took. I know at least one early on had material I revisited several times, so was probably useful in that regard. None of the classes were (I think) honestly useful for my programming work. I didn't mention (because it didn't occur to me) that I did develop a better appreciation for category theory, and love the viewpoint it allows. And I did recently wonder if "persistent homology" might be useful at work, and certainly some early topology classes would be helpful there (maybe some late ones too?).
• There was another question I think I didn't answer well, about what else I learned in grad school that was useful, not just course material. I guess what "soft skills"? I said that people always say that having a phd shows you can focus on a hard problem for a long time (and that, in my case, this isn't true, because mostly I focused on not thinking about my thesis). I think the best skill is being able to learn, and I don't think that I got any better at that because of grad school, necessarily. Certainly having the opportunity to teach a course the first time or two focuses your ability to learn. But you get that in your first year or two, and could still get out after a masters and not miss much. Also, being in grad school may have allowed a schedule for me that let me explore other things, which I may not have gotten to do if I'd jumped into a 9-5.

Chris told me my talk was sort of depressing (that's what happens when I talk about grad school, welcome to my world), but that I had some good points (he didn't say what they were, and I didn't ask). He also tells me that another postdoc in the audience found my talk "refreshing" (since other talks don't talk about how grad school sucks). And apparently I said some things one of the grad students in attendance has been thinking. Going in, I figured such a connection with one person was a suitable goal. I hope whoever it was got something useful out of it, besides just knowing that others have felt the same way (if that's useful).

If I'd lost my idealism about teaching in my first year or two of grad school, I hope that I would have had the sense to bail with my masters. I don't think I've picked up anything since then that I couldn't have gotten outside of grad school. I mean, my two big take-aways were running and news reading.

If I'd known, a year ago, that I'd be at a job like the one I now have (or that I was considering applying for them, that they were even out there), I would have started learning more about stats and things, and (hopefully) blogging my efforts, or some other "share"-ing.

Adapting to Full-Time

Starting with the new year, I've been working full-time (and more!) at a real job (not graduate school). It's truly a great place to work, I consider myself quite lucky to be there. While I'm supposed to be there for a 10am meeting, I can pretty much come in whenever I want and leave whenever as well. As long as the work gets done, the particular hours don't matter. Which is awesome. And the people are all very easy to work with, smart, and helpful. And there's a ping-pong table (and surprisingly many people who want to play). It's a great atmosphere. The work is great too, even if it does make me wish I'd taken useful classes sometime in the past 5 years. I've got a whole lot to learn, and it's things I'm excited to learn, which is great (even if I could easily totter into overwhelmed).

During the first week, I felt like I couldn't quite make it all work out. "It all" being work, sleep, running, reading, side projects, keeping the cats not too unhappy with me. Of course, I wasn't exactly expecting to. I think progress was made this past week, though. A big step was sorting out (to first approximation) running to and from work. I can get my miles in, and not feel bad about driving to work (it seems so silly to drive the 3 miles back and forth). I've also done a little bit to organize my online reading... buzzing through headlines and starring items to save for the weekend (Saturday morning with coffee and feed reading... fantastic), since I no longer have office hours for students to not show up for when I could get some quality reading in. I reorganized some of my folders, too, separating out some silly comic feeds, which I could maybe read when I'm pretty tired at the end of the day, from actual potential read-me articles. There's still some organization that could happen there (and some programming projects... :)), but that'll always be the case. Get something started and iterate, right? I'm trying.

I think a next thing to think more about is foodstuffs. Not just eating less (I seem to eat all day - still trying to get my running miles up enough to feel like it's warranted), but being better organized about grocery shopping and when to spend time cooking. I think I can get some lunch-preparing done on weekends (make a big batch of...), and try to have easy (quick, little cooking) food for dinner (sandwich, cereal) so that I still have some time/energy in the evening to work on side projects or read. I'm open to suggestions here (and elsewhere, of course). It also seems like running as my commute will help me trim down the number of grocery store trips I make - there's a grocery store right along the way on my usual drive, so it's easy to just stop in for milk, or cereal, but I ended up going a couple times each week. So if I drive to work once a week, I can use that to transport things I don't want to run with (clothes, non-perishable foods), and then also stop at the grocery store in that trip, that'll be good and efficient. Hopefully. We'll see how it goes.

I'm trying to avoid setting up a rigorous schedule for myself. I don't want to say "I'll drive to work on Mondays, and Tuesday I'll work on side project A, Wednesday will be project B, etc". I think that'll just get me frustrated when some particular day I'm really tired and don't get to a project (reading counts). I want to learn better to adapt and be flexible and still get things done when things don't go according to plan. Add it to the huge list of things to learn.

Anyway, that's me. Off to see about getting something done. Which, of course, almost never happens. So few things actually get to "done". I've got heaps of unfinished floating around. So I'll just shoot for making progress. Iterate.

Finishing Up

Still have one student that needs to take a make-up final, but I'm basically done for the semester. I all honesty, I probably checked out a few weeks ago. I've got something like a vaguely un-scheduled week ahead of me (besides a Flying Karamazov Brothers show!), until a math conference in Georgia in the second half of next week. People tell me it'll be good to go. That remains to be seen. And basically as soon as I get back, I start a summer programming internship at Rosetta Stone. Could be something. So with my loose week, I just gotta bang out a thesis so I don't have to come back in the fall...

Err, right. So this post was supposed to be about thoughts about my class this semester. Things that went well (it ended). Things that went poorly (the other parts). Things to do differently next time (next time‽). Something I can look back on in the fall for guidance.

So... reading assignments with homework due before we talked about it in class didn't go hugely well. I stand by the method. But I've also been reading about how homework itself, as a graded assignment, sucks (maybe start at joebower.org if you want to follow along at home), so I'm a little torn. Halfway through the semester I switched to the following setup: read the book for Tuesday, and submit a "discussion seed" based on the reading, as your homework assignment for Tuesday. I then used the those discussion seeds as what I brought up in class Tuesday, and then had written problems due Thursday. Seemed to go fairly ok, as a setup. Basing class time on questions students had actually submitted seemed like sort of a fun idea. Having the questions as a Google Docs presentation seemed to work ok.

My students really seemed intrigued when I showed actual housing cost data, so I should work to bring more actual data into my classroom. I was also thinking it might be cool to have guest speakers, maybe from banking or realty. Perhaps I'll look into that more for next semester. Probably the best thing about this class is that students can actually mostly see it as something useful. Putting money in an account, saving up... sorta easy to relate to, I think. There's some amount of intrinsic motivation there, if I can just capture it.

One important thing I didn't know going in to the semester was what sorts of students took the course. It's a 100-level course; I was expecting mostly freshman and sophomores. No dice. Probably half of my class was graduating seniors, many of whom already probably knew basically all of the material. I sorta have a hard time believing these students should actually be allowed to take this course... this is part of the stupid game I hate about education when I think about it these days. I had friends in undergrads who, as graduating actuarial science seniors, took 100-level "finite math" sorts of classes. This seems like what sorta happened with the class I taught this semester. The impression I get is that many of them were then upset with the class for being boring. What the hell do you want from me? Other students, in the last few days, have mentioned that they thought I did well trying to balance for these students along with those who actually didn't know much of the material coming in. I think it helps that mostly the students who didn't need to be there stopped showing up.

Another thing I didn't know coming in was the content of the course. I was reading the book along with the students. Turns out, there's very little material. In a few-minute wrapup I did on the last day, I told my students how essentially we did one thing all semester: move money around on a timeline. Compound interest is just iterated simple interest. Bank discount interest is just simple interest from a different perspective. Annuities formulas are just conveniences for dealing with many things moving around at compound interest. And that's all we did. I'm a little curious to see if I could teach all of the formulas in a week or two. Knowing this, I intend to go faster next semester and cover more material. I think this should help with some of the boredom issue.

I'm toying with the idea of using next semester, when I'll likely be teaching the course again, as a chance to have the students write their own textbook. There were enough errors and oddities in the textbook we did use, I have a hard time believing we couldn't do better. We'll do a big collaborative project, as the entire class, writing a book. I think a project like this could be good for having students involved and interested. I also think it should be a good way for students to learn the material - you learn best by teaching. And, finally, I think we could make a pretty decent book.

Each semester we math grad students are given a teaching request form, where we get to request what to teach the following semester. Basically it's one of the four calculus sections (two levels of calc 1 and calc 2), and then occasionally this financial math course, or a calc 3. On my form, I requested to teach this financial math class again. A friend thought I was joking when I told her. My advisor asked if I was a masochist. I think, having gone through it once, the next time can't help but go better, which will be nice. I know the material now, and might not be quite as caught off guard by my class being mostly seniors. Also, the class has no emphasis on algebra, my current frustration with calculus courses. I do need to try to design better assignments that have students explain their work more, but hopefully I can sort something out. Writing a book should be good for that.

Anyway, I'm off. Take 'er easy.

Teaching

I've started thinking that, perhaps, I don't actually enjoy teaching. Which is to say, there seems to be quite a bit about being a teacher that I really don't care for. Or I'm doing it wrong. Perhaps this is just how it all goes... nothing's perfect, right?

I love learning (my own, I'm not sure I can sense others'). I love reading. I think I enjoy meeting with individuals, or with small groups, who are truly motivated to learn something that I can help with. Not motivated in the sense of finishing an assignment, but in understanding material for understanding-sake. Perhaps it's content I already know, or something I can join them in learning. That might just be where my joy in teaching ends. Sadly, this doesn't seem like much of what school is (or, like I said, I'm doing it wrong).

I want to help individuals learn something that they are interesting in learning. I have no interest in talking to a classroom full of students about things few of them care about. I have no interest in trying to motivate them to care. I have a hard enough time with my own motivation to encourage others in that regard. And, looking back, I know that when I was a student, I didn't care about most of my classes, and don't expect I was interested in being told I should care. I didn't try to learn the material for its intrinsic value. This is especially true outside of math and computer science, but I expect even in some of those classes I was just getting through assignments (at least sometimes). Now that I'm about done with taking school, I'm finally ready to learn just about anything.

Probably I should just suck it up. There are always at least a few students who are paying attention, who are learning something, right? I should focus on them, right? I should figure out how to make things so exciting that people just can't help themselves but want to learn? I should continue giving homework and exams and playing the grading game, without it helping my students much at all. I should humor the notion, hinted at by award nominations, that I'm a "good teacher", despite knowing that I'm hardly doing anybody much good.

I should continue playing this game.

But I think I've realized about myself that I don't like other people's games. I like my own games. I think I might go find some of those...

Textbooks

(begin rant)

Two days ago, an email went around the math department here indicating that the higher ups were thinking about changing calculus textbooks, and that there would be a meeting today to talk about it. The meeting was essentially a presentation from a salesman from the textbook company about how great the new textbook is. A few minutes of discussion before-hand, and a comment that those making the change (I'm pretty sure it's a foregone conclusion) would hear our thoughts on the matter. I sorta felt, leaving the meeting, that we'd get a somewhat formal (at least an email) request for comments. Now, a few hours later, I'm guessing we wont. In fact, they probably just signed a contract while the guy was here today.

Sorry, I'm a bit cynical.

Before I go on, I'm probably supposed to make some disclosures. I have at times made (and am currently making) money doing things associated with the Webwork online homework system (admin, library tending). I grew up on Stewart's textbook (used it as a student, and it's what UVA has been using since before I got here). The textbook we are thinking about switching to (like, apparently, everybody else considering switching textbooks) is Briggs and Cochran. At the meeting today, I got a free copy. They also gave us an access code to their online software, MyMathLab.

In all fairness, the new book looks fine. It looks like basically every other recently-released calculus textbook I've looked at (don't take that to mean I've looked at a lot, of for large amounts of time). There are lots of pretty pictures, and apparently the author(s) are big on geometric intuition, which is great. We were also told to be impressed that in the worked examples, each step was given a little explanation. And, gosh, isn't this something amazing, the authors organized the problems at the end of each section carefully. We were told several times that this was not a lower level book, clearly something the publishers are worried about people thinking. It is, as @MitchKeller opined about the projects it has, "a bit hand-holdy".

Oh, and there'll be a new edition along every 3 years.

Of course, the textbook by itself isn't, I expect, what people are all giddy about. The textbook is paired up with MyMathLab. You can make online homework assignments and quizzes. There are little tools for the students to use to get help, like looking at worked examples, looking at a digital copy of the textbook, and probably some others I forgot. Students can also see a little "Study Guide", a sort of summary of what sorts of problems they missed, so they would know what to go back and look at. Oh, and some large collection of those pretty pictures in the text are pretty animations (calculus being about change, we were reminded by the salesman) in the MyMathLab system.

Students have the option to not buy the physical book (at least, in theory, who knows what our goofy school will require), and instead spend somewhat less and just use the e-book in MyMathLab. I seem to recall the e-book being in the $70 range, the first year textbook in the $90s, and the 3 semester book in the $130s, +$6 for the MyMathLab software if you buy the textbook. These numbers might all be before bookstore markup (we were also told to be pleased that the UVA bookstore markup of ~25% is really low... go team!), and we were told that these prices are cheaper than Stewart. The presenter today did this cute thing where he pretended not to already know the price of the books, and looked them up online.

Digital rights management didn't really come up at the meeting today, and I'm ashamed that I didn't bring it up.

Quite honestly, it seems like a not entirely bad thing. Switching textbooks isn't the worst thing we could do. Like I said on twitter after the meeting, though, it feels like shuffling deck chairs on the Titanic.

If I were given freedom to set up the course however I wanted, I wouldn't require that my students purchase this, or any other, textbook. There are simply too many free resources online for me to justify requiring students to spend that money. If students want to buy the book, or the software (more accurately: access (likely temporary) to it), good for them. Go for it. But if a student would rather use their brother's old textbook, say, or the free ones they find online, that's fine too. If instructors are going to lecture (I generally do, more than I'd like), many students can likely get by on class notes (their own, or a friend's), maybe in combination with some office hours.

Sure, the pictures in the book were nice. And the animations. But there are plenty of calculus animations online (I'm not gonna google that for you). In fact, I could roll my own (and have, happily), and would be delighted to teach students to do so as well. It'd be awesome to talk to students about pictures during class, draw them on the board, and then have them make a digital version of the picture, or an animation (for the ambitious) (and release them all under a CC license, wouldn't that be a fun thing to talk about in class). Heck, why not have the calc students write a book, complete with pictures? Write about the things they got hung up on, and what got them over it. Make a wiki. The instructor likely has access to several textbooks. Use them to put together an outline for the semester. Lecture if you want, or tell them to go see what they can learn online or at the library (then use class time to synthesize what was found). Looking up resources online, you also get to talk about evaluating resources, and how to compare different sources. You can build up a big huge list, and have students rate each source (and share your result with... everybody!).

And as for step-by-step explanations, WolframAlpha jumps to mind, but there are certainly others (I'm not gonna google that for you either). Don't like W|A's solution to a problem (they can be a bit... pedantic)? Have students talk about improvements. This also points out that those problems are pointless anyway. A computer does them more quickly and more accurately, so let it. Let's work on understanding concepts, instead of continuing to test pointless algebra tricks. Use the time that we're not doing mechanical manipulations to come to the geometric understanding slowly, guiding students to discover it for themselves.

Webwork has, for me, done a perfectly adequate job as an online homework system. If UVA doesn't think the problem library is nice enough, of the interface good enough, perhaps they should invest some money in improving it (I know they (at least, Dr. Jeff Holt, through a grant) have to some extent, and also that there is money floating around). Then even more people benefit (webwork is open source), and UVA gets some nice credibility. Webwork can do most of the things the guy today tried to sell us on for online assignments, though it's interface might not be as gosh durn pretty. It will not show students which section from the book they missed problems on (it's not tied to any one book). But I don't really see the problem here. I think it would be a great exercise to teach students how to evaluate for themselves which sections they need to look at.

I know I'm not going on much but youthful optimism and naivety. It's not the first time, nor likely the last. I have no expectation at all that the powers that be will take my thoughts seriously. At least here I can pretend that my thoughts are worthwhile (thanks Blogger). I'm leaving after next year anyway, and have seen no evidence (I suppose I haven't asked) that the younger grad students think like I do. I should probably just let it go (until I'm at another school). [As I was writing this post, I decided to email the math grads, to see if they'd like more flexibility in their teaching.]

All I want is for the department to allow instructors to try something different. Let us not require our students to purchase the (any) textbook. Get out of the publisher's pointless "new edition" cycle

Think about dropping the heavy emphasis on algebra.

(end rant (for now))

Thoughts on "Dehumanized"

You should go read "Dehumanized: When math and science rule the school." Even if you've read it before, and even if it was recently, go read it again. Perhaps a few times.

In this essay, Mark Slouka expresses disappointment that education is being "retooled... into an adjunct of business" at the expense of the arts and humanities.

This is certainly a fair thing to be disappointed about.

I've never really been "in to" the humanities. I don't remember ever much caring about my history classes, or social studies. I don't think I took many literature classes, and can't say I feel like I got much out of any that I did take. I blame nobody but myself, of course. While reading "Dehumanized" I became convinced that I have seriously missed out. It's sad that now, age 26, supposedly 1 year away from a Ph.D., I'm finally ready to go to school.

I do not agree with everything in the article, though. Throughout, Slouka seems to wish that civics were the highest goal of education. I'm not sure I see why this should be. Of course, I'm pretty sure I don't even know "what" this would be, so I don't have much basis for argument. But I think many of the goals Slouka advocates, with the apparent intention of improving individuals as citizens, are goals I do agree with.

Slouka asks, "What do we teach, and why?" Clearly a fantastic question. He even provides some answers: "whatever contributes to the development of autonomous human beings", "in order to expand the census of knowledgeable, reasoning, independent-minded individuals." I like those answers, even if Slouka seems to want these things for the purpose of "the political life of the nation." I guess I feel like I want these things for the individual, and those around the individual. Perhaps that's what politics is/are. I don't know, I probably wasn't paying attention that day.

The humanities, it is claimed, are there to talk about "what it means to be fully human," to teach "not what to do but how to be". The output is "the reasoned search for truth." But then Slouka says these things are all, "inescapably, political." Perhaps the reasons why all point out why I don't know what "political" means: "they complicate our vision", "grow uncertainty", "expand the reach of our understanding" (and thus "compassion" and "tolerance"). One goal seems to be "an individual formed through questioning". The de-toothing of humanities education is summarized:

Worried about indoctrination, we've short-circuited argument. Fearful of propoganda, we've taken away the only tools that could detect and counter it.

The arts and humanities are there to "upset people", prompt "unscripted, unapproved questions", and, according to Don Randel, "force us into 'a rigorous cross-examination of our myths about ourselves'". Slouka quotes the teacher Marcus Eure who wants students to have "depth of experience and a willingness to be wrong", and notes that "every aspect of life... hinges in some way on the ability to understand and empathize with others, to challenge one's belief, to strive for reason and clarity."

These all sound like awesome things.

What confuses me about the article is that the author doesn't seem to think math and science help with these goals. I just don't see that at all. Uncertainty? Understanding? Questioning? Cross-examination? Reason and clarity? How are those not in the realm of math and science? Sure, the topics that are questioned and reasoned about are different for mathandscience than for the humanities, as it pointed out by the article. But how can the questioning nature of mathandscience, the logic and reasoning, not be helpful in the humanities? Is it because math and science education, in parallel to education in the humanities, isn't what it really could and should be? Of course, having also just re-read "A Mathematician's Lament", I worry that this is quite likely the case. But that's probably the topic for another day.

A Confused Teacher

This semester I'll be teaching a course in financial math (a first-year-level course offered by the math department). This is a bit of a change from what I've been teaching (calculus, for 5 years). Moreover, I basically know nothing about the subject.

Ok, sure... you put money in a savings account, it earns interest at some rate, compounding sometimes, and you end up with more money than you started with. Conversely, you use a credit card to buy stuff, and it costs more, due to interest. I've got some grasp of those concepts (though not much... I mean... why would a bank give me money for having money?), and the equations involved. However, some of the chapters in the book that I'm supposed to cover are titled: "Discount Interest", "Ordinary Annuities", "Other Annuities Certain", "Debt Retirement Methods", and possibly also a chapter on "Investing in Stocks and Bonds". Well, I think I can claim to have heard those words before (not necessarily together), but that's as much as I can honestly own up to.

So I'm supposed to go teach a class (45 students) on a topic I basically know nothing about. This has put me in a bit of a philosophical mood. Or, since I also won't claim to know what philosophy is, let's just say: I've been thinking about how I should set up a course like this, and why I think that.

[Just a heads up. This post has parenthetical comments within parenthetical comments. And it isn't about LISP. If that gives you some indication about how rambly this post is, and you don't have time for it... perhaps I'll do better next time. See you then.]

My thoughts are: I'll be learning this stuff essentially as my students do. I will be no more an expert on the subject than they would be after reading each section. It believe it's quite possible that some students will come in knowing more about the subject than I do. So why should I lecture on it (nevermind if I should be lecturing when I do have an understanding (calculus))? Shouldn't they be able to teach themselves, just like I'll be doing? And then we can all get together and see if we came to the same understanding?

I asked basically these questions on twitter, where @michiexile was kind enough to offer up some thoughts. He stated that I've got some advantage, having spent more time learning how to learn, and also that I'm there to be "a bad conscience", "a voice of authority", and to "give context".

I can certainly see the bad conscience part. That's the point of making assignments with due dates. I'm not sure how much context I can give, though perhaps I'll do more reading in places besides the text, so I'll have more to share (but, again, they can do this). I'm not a particularly authoritative person, but perhaps that's something I should work on in my role as an instructor (or perhaps not?).

Clearly his point about having more experience learning is valid. If you kept count that high, I think I'd be in 22nd grade (only taking 21 of them though :)). With my students who I'm expecting to mostly be in 13th grade, that's approaching twice as many years in school (ouch). Surely I've picked up something in all that time. How can I best impart this knowledge (which I don't have a ready grasp on) to my students as efficiently as possible? I have no idea. My consolation is a guess that I'm not alone in not knowing.

It seems fairly clear to me that knowing a bunch of things is useful. Surely (though I have no experience to base this off of) employers like to hire people who already know many things, and know how to do many things. However, there is absolutely no way an employer can expect a future employee to know everything about pertinent subjects. There's quite simply too much out there. And this holds true especially for students fresh out of college, who almost certainly have significantly less experience than individuals who have been working for some time.

So it seems to me that what employers should be hoping to find is individuals who have a strong ability to learn. I'm guessing this isn't much of a revelation to anybody. I think I'd like to claim something stronger though. I believe that an individual who has a strong ability to learn independently makes for a stronger job candidate.

(Please don't think that my whole outlook is helping kids land jobs. I don't even want a job :), though of course money is nice. I have little idea how to get one anyway - that's a portion of the reason I'm still in school. Also, I don't have much in the way of an idea how an employer would determine if one individual is a stronger independent learner than another. I do believe the internet can help, by giving people a place to show what they do. But I'm getting off track (seems to be what I do).)

I've been trying, at least a little bit, to think about why I believe that an ability to learn independently is an admirable quality. Possibly I'm behind, and people have decided that it's simply true, sort of intrinsically or something. Perhaps not. Part of my concern is that I like to think that I have at least some ability to learn fairly independently (I'm quite possibly fooling myself), and so perhaps I just want to believe that this is an admirable quality. Or, more drastically, perhaps I've got some psychological issues about relying on other people. I like to think this isn't the case, but what do I know?

Having not much in the way of "other opinions" on the subject, I'm pretty much going on the assumption that I'll be doing well if I can get my students to be better independent learners. I'm not saying total independence. I'm not going to cancel all the class meetings and just have a final exam, and expect everybody to be fine at the end of the semester (man, think of all the free time though...). I know that I am not that independent myself (and I'm sure my thesis advisor would be quick to agree), and I don't think it's even a reasonable goal.

So here's what I think I'm going to do with my class. We have 75 minutes class periods, one on Tuesday and one on Thursday. Each Tuesday there will be an assignment due, presumably consisting of exercises from the text (I'm still working on this part), on sections that I have not talked about in class at all. This will require the students to read the appropriate sections, carefully, so that they actually gain an understanding of the material. I'm going to have office hours on Monday, to help students who got stuck on the assignment.

This is the way my undergraduate math courses were structured, by the way. I'm excited about diving in on this policy. I've made attempts in the past, with my calc classes, but went too easy with it, I feel.

So, great, my course is set up. Except, there's one small issue. I've got 150 minutes in front my students each week. If I'm not talking about new material, and they just turned in an assignment showing that they understand old material... what do I do with this time? This part has me seriously nervous (so I'm writing about it out here, good use of time :)).

My guess is that students (including me!) won't understand all of the material from the section. I'm planning on spending as much class time as possible and necessary having a discussion with my students (hopefully with them doing most of the talking) about any questions we have from the reading. Hopefully some will be confused about examples in the text. Hopefully some will still have questions about how to work problems. Hopefully some will have questions about how to interpret answers to questions.

I'm trying to think about what to do if they don't have anything to say. Or if they pretend they don't. I'm guessing if I say "So, since none of you have any questions, maybe I should just give you a quiz on this for you to earn lots of points on, and then we can all go home", some hands will go up (and some people will think going home is a great idea).

One thing I think I'll do is to try to keep track of my own thoughts and observations and questions as I read, so that I can share that with the class if they don't have their own things to talk about. I may also come with some extra examples, to give them time in class to work on them (possibly in groups, or as part of a game or something) and get better at problems simply by doing more of them. Possibly I'll be inspired to look at other materials online or in other books, and can come in with something to share from that reading.

I think talking about the material the students (and I) have just read, after we have worked some problems on our own, will help with our understanding of the material. Surely that's a good goal for the course.

But I was rambling on just a few paragraphs ago about getting my students to be more independent learners. I do think that setting up the course as described above will give them experience trying to develop this skill. I also think, however, that this goal can be addressed slightly more explicitly during class time. I hope that by keeping track of my own "how I read this section" process, I will be able to share that with the class. I touch on this a little above. But I could take it further, I think. I could perhaps scan a section of the text, and keep my notes on the paper as I go. Then during class I could walk through how I read the section with my class. Perhaps they'll pick up on things. Things like... what questions do I ask while reading? How can I tell if I'm actually understanding this material? Where can I go to answer questions I have? Perhaps the exercise will make me more aware of the process myself, and I'll be able to point something out. Perhaps students will point out their own methods of gaining understanding.

At this point I've probably rambled on far too much. Clearly this semester will be (or, at least, could be) an interesting one. I believe that I will learn quite a bit. I hope that my students also do.

Changing Calculus

Apparently toward the end of every semester I decide to write a post about changing calculus. At least, this is my second go at it. But today's attempt is more a follow-up to my most recent post, about the role of higher education.

My initial motivation in asking the questions in my last post was to provide some structure for what a calculus class should look like. Is the role of calculus really to make sure that all freshman know how to compute integrals by hand, and can use this to find the volume and surface area of a solid of revolution? That rising second years can go through mindless algebraic manipulations to arrive at an answer to a question that was asked without any context or applicability? Moreover, that they need to be able to do so by hand? Quick, find the antiderivative of $\sqrt{3-2x-x^2}$, no computers. Who gives a crap? How many times will that function, or one like it, actually show up in the lifetime of my student? I get paid to do math, and the only time I've ever cared about the answers to these algebraic questions was when I was taking or teaching a calculus course.

Looking back, I'm a little ashamed that the problem above was actually one I assigned as homework for my students this semester. What good does it do to have them work this integral by hand? Surely the answer depends on the students, right? My students going away from the sciences have gotten nothing out of this assignment. My students staying in the sciences have spent another... 5 minutes? 30?... practicing their algebra skills. Hurray‽

Look, I'm not saying algebra isn't useful. But I really do think it is over-emphasized in calculus courses (the ones I've encountered). My calc II course covered: techniques of integration, improper integrals, arc length and surface area of revolution, parametric curves, polar curves, multiple integrals, and infinite sequences and series. Lots of these are wonderfully fascinating and fun topics. Parametric and polar curves force students to start thinking about curves differently, to start re-interpreting functions and points in the plane. Infinite sequences and series are so unlike anything that's ever come before that they can't help but be interesting. Add up infinitely many things that get infinitely small, and produce an infinite value? Or a finite one? How the hell does that work? What does it even mean?

If not a single one of my students can do the integral mentioned above, I'm not sure that I'd feel bad about my semester. If not a significant portion of my students could tell me what was new about a parametric or polar curve, I think I'd be fairly upset (admittedly, now I'm a little afraid to ask).

My problem with my course is that algebraic manipulations are essentially given precedence over conceptual understanding. This is done by making exams that test algebraic nonsense, forcing instructors to make sure their students can do the algebraic nonsense, taking up valuable time that could be better used in other ways. With less time spent on algebra, more time could be spend on concepts, and more time could be spent on improving student's writing. The time spent on concepts makes it a more mathematically interesting and, I'd argue, worthwhile course. Whatever negative impact on my students is brought on by slightly less algebra practice will be more than compensated for by having them spend time thinking about ideas. More time spent teaching students how to write mathematics will force them to think more precisely about what they are saying and how to say it. How could this not be advantageous to students, whether they will be taking more math or not? Unless, of course, thinking about these ideas and how to write them is not aligned with the goals of my university. If the role of higher education isn't something that thinks this would be better, then I'm getting off this boat before it sinks.

So why not go for it? Spend drastically less time on techniques of integration and series convergence tests. Force students to turn in well-written assignments. Spend class time talking about what well-written math is. Spend time letting students play with computers to get a feel for parametric and polar curves. Computers will be faster and more accurate in plotting curves than any student ever will be. Give students time to plot lots of curves, changing parameters to see the effect on the graph. Make students look up resources online to learn how to find arc lengths or surface areas, instead of just telling them the formula (or even deriving it) and having them memorize it. Spend class time talking about how to read the resources they find, and how to evaluate them for quality.

My advisor pointed out, during our conversation mention in my last post, that there are some issues with trying new things. At the lowest level: who gets to teach such a course, and where does their funding come from? But I think better concerns that he mentioned are two that bring me back to some of my earlier questions.

1. It is hard to test conceptual understanding. It is much easier to test if a student can do some algebra. With several hundred students going through calculus every semester, this is a practical concern. How does a university handle scale?
2. Institutional inertia would have to be overcome. Change is hard. We do this because this is how we've done this for a while now, and it is clearly the best way to do things and it's going ok and nobody has complained.
   

So let me ask again, what is the role of the university, and how will the university adapt to the changing world? Is the role to grant degrees, and so is the role of my lowly calculus class to funnel students on to further classes until we can get them out of here with their paper in hand? What market are universities in? If we know, then we can see if our institutional inertia is good or bad. If we don't know, we should probably get on that.

These questions brought me back, full circle, to my initial desire for some formal guidelines for courses. I think it would be hasty to change all of our calculus courses around right away. I think a better solution involves some experimenting. Make a new course, make grad students apply to teach it, arguing for what they want to do differently, and require the instructor to report back on how it went. I think having formal guidelines for courses would aid the experimentation, because it gives an objective measure for comparing a newly designed course with a more traditional one.

I know that much of what I'm saying is oriented toward the way things are set up in my department. How is your department set up differently, and what does that mean about how calculus courses are structured?

Thoughts? Objections? (non-spammy) Links?

Higher Ed

I've been wrestling recently with identifying the role of higher education. I'm not much of a wrestler, physically or intellectually, so I thought I'd see what I could put into words and have you folks comment on. Thoughts of yours, or links to thoughts of others are much appreciated.

What brought on my recent concerns, or possibly made the pot boil over, as it were, was some frustration in making a final exam for my calculus course. The course I teach is one section among several, and we all have common exams. When we went to make the exam this semester, there was some disagreement about what should be tested. The lack of a prescribed vision for the course (at least, one I was aware of) started to upset me. And then I decided that such a vision should be accompanied by a broader vision of the math courses offered by the department. It should include formal indication of how the courses fit together, what is assumed of students coming in to each course, and what is assumed of students passing a course (I'm thinking something more formal and precise than the short list of pre-reqs for a course). And then I wondered where this vision came from, if it was internal to the department or how much say other departments had in what they wanted math classes to require. I'm not expecting the English department to care at all what is covered in Calc I or II. But perhaps Economics has some input for us? Or other departments? And then I wondered what the point of any of it was. What is the role of higher education, and how does my Calc I or II class fit into that?

Clearly things were getting out of hand.

Luckily, my thesis advisor turns out to have the title of Director of Undergraduate Affairs. Furthermore, he was happy to talk to me about these things, and brought a welcome level-headedness up against my relative insanity. Of course, I'm sure he won't mind much when I get back to research... :)

He pointed out that probably having formal guidelines for all courses is a bit much - that professors teaching upper level courses should be granted plenty of flexibility. I can't really argue with that. I have vast respect for all of my professors. But this flexibility doesn't really help in getting a vision for Calc I or II together. And if the courses are coordinated among several sections, there should be some vision backing it, right?

Part of my initial inquiry was if there was a curriculum review that happened periodically, and how long ago the most recent was. My guess was that if there was such a thing, it happened before nearly all of my students had personal laptops (or possibly even personal computers in their dorm room). I know I'm a bit of a nerd, but I really think it is important to adapt to the changes brought about by each student having their own computer (that they maybe can carry in their pocket!) connected to the internet. The explosion of infinite goods and real-time global communications, for "everybody" (yes, I know I live in a privileged region, or whatever is the PC way to say it. I'm sorry?), has been changing, is changing, and will continue to change... well... nearly everything. When the fundamentals of economics and communication change, what isn't impacted? [Side note: I know very little about economics, I'm probably saying things incorrectly]

Bringing things back down closer (somewhat) to the level of a graduate student who knows basically nothing about anything useful... how does the internet change higher ed? What happens when lectures become an infinite good, available to be watched freely online? What happens when the content that makes up our textbooks is available in a multitude of places online? What happens if students have direct access to experts in any field at campuses on the other side of the globe? Gah, I'm getting out of hand again.

Two recent posts online have been on my mind a bit as I think about this question:

1. A post on ars technica about the difference between the movie industry and the music industry. For some reason this article made me realize that I probably wasn't thinking much about what was distinct about higher ed, as opposed to the entertainment or news industries, and what that meant about the impact of technology.
2. A video on techdirt explaining the innovator's dilemma. This video makes me think that in order to adapt, universities should be asking what market they are in. I've been phrasing the question in terms of what role they play, but I think maybe they're pretty similar questions. Are we in the horse-and-buggy market, following the example in the video, or the transportation market? Are we in the market of churning out degrees? Are we in the certification market? Is that our primary goal and purpose?
   

I truly hope that I'm not saying anything surprising to people involved in higher education (or other fields!), or asking questions you've not heard before. I really do hope that I'm late to this conversation - that smart, dedicated people in the right places are asking these questions. Moreover, that they are coming up with some answers. I hope that I am just not seeing this conversation at my university, or at others, because I am not involved enough somewhere.

Anybody have some thoughts or links for me?

This post is somewhat of a part 1 in a series. The second focuses more on teaching calculus.

Still Right Here

This post was inspired by my lack of having posted anything else here in a while (2 months, to the day, apparently). Of course, if you've got nothing to say, which I don't, then not posting isn't a bad thing. Another inspiration for this post is that when I sat down to do "real work" (research, toward my Ph.D.) today, I found that I was on the last page of yet another notebook. Seems like a good time for reflection. I wish I could say that I felt like this last notebook had useful ideas. Or that I felt that way about any of the previous notebooks. I guess if it were true I might be out of here by now, or on my way out in the spring.

This post is fairly personal. The only thing you'll learn about, from reading it, is me. And I'm not a particularly interesting subject, I promise. Go find something else to do, there's plenty out there.

For some reason this academic year has been a huge source of confusion and frustration for me. I'm now in my 6th year of graduate school (for math, in case you forgot that part). For the past 5 years, I knew why I was here: I wanted to be a math professor. Maybe I still do, but I'm not so sure any more. My thesis advisor says he thinks I'd make a good prof at some small school, which was always the goal. And yet, I have a hard time convincing myself that this is still what I want. It's sort of an odd feeling to have your main plan in life for... a decade?... not really matter to you any more. Or, to maybe not matter.

I only have some vague idea(s) why I don't care as much about being a professor as I used to. I'll see what I can put into words, as much (more) for my benefit as yours (hopefully you stopped reading around the end of the second paragraph).

• Research sucks. Or I suck at research. Or... something like that. I've been reading math books for fun since high school (after I read all the books on sharks at the local library, and then decided I wasn't one for the water). I still do. And I love reading about math. But perhaps "doing math" is not something I care much for. I know, I know... math isn't a spectator sport, and... if you aren't reading with a pencil and paper and trying to guess what comes next, you're doing it wrong. But F that. I love reading math, the way I read math. If the way I read math means I'm not a "real mathematician", then maybe I shouldn't be here anyway, or shouldn't be teaching the next batch of math students.
  
• How am I supposed to be a professor, and tell my students how to learn math, if I don't do it myself? How can I tell my students to go home and work more problems (a habit I never had), and bang their heads against problems for a while (when, every time I sit down to do research I find something else to do as quickly as possible)?
• Sure, I can tell my students about math. I can tell them definitions and theorems and how to work problems, and maybe even tie it all together in some meaningful way. But lots of people have already done that, and their work exists in textbooks and, increasingly, online.
• Speaking of online, I feel like (and I know I'm not the only one) higher ed. (and probably other ed., and plenty more) is going to be going through a bit of an upheaval in the near future. I'm not sure I see how small, private, liberal arts colleges (like the one I went to, and always envisioned myself teaching at) are in a sustainable position currently. They are too expensive, and for what? I believe that many people are going to start recognizing that the diploma you get from such an institution isn't as valuable as, say, an impressive online resume, which is now something anybody can create with little effort (besides the "doing things that go on the resume" part). People can show everything they are capable of online, for everybody to see. What good is another diploma in relation to that? (I know that a diploma is still good... I'm not going to argue any of the things I say here)
  
• And also, while I'm on the subject of "online"... the experts are out there posting work online. Awesome teachers are posting full lesson plans, and all sorts of incredible resources. And my students could get to it as easily as I can. What extra value do I bring to the table? A convenient face to bounce ideas off of, to ask questions to (before thinking about the problem long enough alone)? Scheduled hours when I'll be around? I think there is a place for web collaboration tools in education, and I'm not sure how I complete with the sorts of individuals that my students have access to online.
• And a final thought: even going in to grad school, I was making a choice between grad school for math, or grad school for computer science. By the time senior year rolled around I was decided on math. I know at least one of my closest friends at the time was surprised. I sort of wish I had talked to my advisor and my CS professors a bit more about my decision, before making it. These days, I feel like I was probably wrong. I can spend all day online reading about computer/tech/programming stuff. I'll work on Project Euler problems, happily, until I solve them - in contrast to research, which I have a very hard time convincing myself to spend even an hour a day "doing". I don't know, maybe this is just a case of "the grass is always greener". Also, Project Euler problems, from what I've seen, aren't meant to be long, whereas math Ph.D. problems are sort of meant to take a little while. But what gets me excited are the projects I want to work on as a programmer, not as a mathematician.
  

Earlier this year I was at a party, and eventually the group I was sitting with decided to play a "tell me about yourself" sort of game. Mine was "I've been thinking about quitting grad school". Somebody asked me why I was still in it. "Inertia". They thought this was a good answer. To stay 5 years in grad school, and leave before getting a Ph.D. sounds like a pretty stupid idea, all around. But I was seriously considering it. A lease that runs until next summer, and no job prospects if I left, though, made it hard to leave. Around the same time as this party I had several talks with my advisor about what I wanted to do, and such. Eventually we decided I'd stick around into my 7th year and finish up, and then I could re-evaluate "be a professor" or "don't be a professor" at that point. That worked for a while. I'm basically back to wishing I'd just quit. I've also re-adopted my anti-social role, skipping most of the parties I've been invited to since. There are simply more interesting things to do. Which is the same problem I have with doing research.

So, anyway. I don't really know where I am. I don't really know where I am going. I'm apparently in not too much of a hurry to find out. I've killed another hour that I should have spent on research.

And, yes, the title of this post is a nod to Tool.

Fast Friday

I have decided to make Friday, August 15, 2008, a day of fasting for myself. I'll only drink water, and eat no food, from 12:00am to 11:59pm. I thought posting this here would help my commitment. Perhaps it'll encourage somebody else to do the same, and knowing other people are at it will help us all.

I've never done an all day fast. I've probably never even done a daylight fast, or anything like that. As Stephen Colbert said once on the Daily Show, 'I like to eat.' So why am I doing this? Lots of reasons, and no reason.

With running, I've been pushing myself physically. Presumably some part of the reason is to see what I'm capable of. Not eating for a day will be pushing myself.

In a similar spirit, I expect that not eating for a day has health benefits (at least, 'can have', with proper consideration). Again, with the running I've been doing, I don't feel unhealthy. I'm fortunate to never have had a problem with my weight. All the same, I expect there can be benefit here.

Also with things like marathons, it's something I can say I've done. Sure, lots of people have run marathons. Heck, Oprah ran a marathon. Still. Like bungee jumping, and hopefully someday sky diving, I, too, have been there. I can have some sense of what it's like. After Friday, I'll (hopefully) be able to add 'a day of fasting' to the list.

Finally, I know that I am fortunate to have the problem of deciding what to eat several times a day, instead of wondering if I'm going to be able to eat. I am a lucky member of a wealthy nation. I don't know how exactly a day of fasting fits in here. Perhaps by putting myself, even just a little, in somebody else's shoes, something beneficial will happen. Or perhaps I'm just another 'rich' asshole trying to make himself feel better without actually doing anything worthwhile.

Whatever the cause, whatever the effect, I'm going for it. I'll let you know how it goes. But before that, I'm heading to Knoxville to see Nine Inch Nails in concert, and then spend a day in the Great Smoky Mountains, so I'll presumably tell you about that, or at least point you at pictures.

Bedtime FAIL

It being summer and my not having much of a schedule have ganged up on my sleep routine. They've pushed both the going to bed and the getting up hours later than normal. The other day I went for a run starting at 2 in the morning. Currently it's 5am, and I'm still reasonably awake. I had thought this would work out, but I just realized that I've got an organized group run Saturday starting bright and early in the morning, so I'd like to be back to regular sleep schedule by then. I figure the way to get back on track is to just stay up really long one 'day'. Of course, this will likely require above-average levels of caffeine. And since my run this weekend is fairly long, I'm going to need to spend at least the day before hydrating - focusing on water and perhaps some gatorade, instead of coffee and mt. dew. More than one day would be better, but I guess I'll take what I can get. Try to get lots of water in between coffee breaks.

This'll actually be my second 'all-nighter' this summer. And I don't even do that much, or have tests to cram for or anything.

Getting back on track now is also convenient because Tuesday I'm planning on waking up early-ish to drive out to Knoxville. The main point of the excursion being to see Nine Inch Nails in concert there. Since Knoxville is pretty close to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, I'm also going to spend a day hanging out there. Totally sweet.

So anyway, there wasn't much point to any of this for you lot. But it helped me stay awake another couple minutes. On to the next adventure, after making some coffee...

Keeping Up

It might be a mathematician's obsessive-compulsive tendencies, or lack of proper motivation to do other things, but I like to try to keep up with all my rss/atom feeds, and largely with my twitter stream. I tried, for a while, setting up Google Reader with a folder that I didn't keep up-to-date with, and would just check randomly when I was bored, but it never quite sat right with me. I'll star items to read later, but once I get over 20 or 30, and certainly by about 40 starred items, I start getting pretty antsy. Furthermore, I check Reader's 'Discover' link every few days, because the thought of it not being an empty list of recommended feeds is a little annoying. Sometimes I wish I could turn off the recommendation engine, though I suppose not clicking 'Discover' is about the same.

This past week I moved into a new apartment, which was, itself, newly renovated with all brand new appliances. I mention this because one of my new appliances gives me something else to keep up with. My fridge has a pretty productive little ice-maker. As it is summer time, and I'm trying to do a fair bit of running, I need to be drinking lots of water anyway. And I don't like drinking water without lots of ice. So it's nice that there's always ice. At the same time, it's just one more thing to keep up with :)

Invites and Elsewhere

I've recently gotten a chance to sign up at a couple of online services that are apparently in 'invite-only' beta. But they have given me invites. So I thought I'd extend, to you, beloved readers, those invites. I've got a couple of invites over at Twine, and a few at dailymile. Twine is supposedly a 'semantic web' application. As far as I can tell it's a new place to store bookmarks (though you can also post comments, notes, blog), and keep them well organized. The more info you put into Twine, the better it knows you, and the better it can recommend new items. That's my understanding, anyway. Dailymile is for people who run, bike, or swim. Some sort of social network for such people, where you can keep some information about your training as well as upcoming events. So anyway, if you'd like to try either service, leave a comment below, with your email (or, if you don't want your email showing up in public comments, you'll have to find another way to contact me - or I suppose I could delete the comment afterwards). I'll update this post, at the top, if/when I run out of invites.

So, since I've been signing up at places online and trying things out, I thought it might be a good idea to make a list of those places. And since they're all reasonably public, I went ahead and posted them on the 'contact' part of my other webpage. The list includes: this blog, twitter, reader shared items, twine, dailymile, mapmyrun, goodreads, flickr, youtube, facebook, and friendfeed. Feel free to find me there.

In the process of adding those links, I thought I should try something else out. This is the XFN (XHTML Friends Network) microformat. For the links I made to my other pages, I added rel="me" to the (x)html. Supposedly that's helpful in some sort of semantic web sense. Reading a little, though, I found that rel="me" is supposed to be symmetric. So I'm supposed to now to go all of those other places and make pointers to all of the other places from them? Some of them don't have that sort of capability setup. So am I not to claim rel="me" when I link to them? I mean, I think I see the argument for rel="me" to by symmetric - if it's not, I can go around claiming any page I want.

Of course, if I'm only linking to my pages, it's not much of a 'Friends Network', huh?

I've also wondered about linking to pages that mention me before, maybe storing them all in some sort of 'mention file'. Not because I really care that if somebody finds me online, that they also find all of my other mentions. What I was thinking was if I linked to pages that mentioned me, bots might be able to distinguish between various instances of Nicholas Hamblet online (I think there is at least one other, in case you were curious). It seems like this could be helpful somehow. Like... I find an interesting mention of a 'A. Person' and wonder if it might be the 'A. Person' I went to high school with. So I go to some web services that has crawled 'mention files', and put in the page I found them on and the name (that page could, after all, mention many other people). If the web service has found a 'mention file' for that link and person, it'll let me know. Clearly this has issues: (1) several people could claim the same mention, either intentionally or not, (2) spam, as always, (3) more popular people get mentioned all the time, and keeping their 'mention file' up-to-date would be a hastle. All the same, it's something I've wondered about. I guess one way would be to set up a web service that crawls, finds names, and stores them. If it keeps track of context, it may be able to guess intelligently to distinguish individuals with the same name, and with the help of some 'mention files' and appropriate microformats, perhaps it could do ok? Perhaps there's already such a thing? Either the 'mention files' or the web service?

Global Comments

I'm part of the problem. Minutes ago, I decided to 'Share with note' an item from Google Reader, instead of posting a comment on the site hosting the original article. In my defense, I didn't have a huge amount to say, I'd be surprised to think it was truly valuable, and I would have had to register at the site in order to leave a comment (instead of allowing, say, logging in via openid, in which case I would have). I want to be more a part of the online community, leaving comments on posts that strike me... but at the same time I am fairly lazy. So instead of contributing to the community, I contributed to the problem: comment tracking.

By not posting my comment somewhere associated with the original article, I have essentially forked the conversation. Somebody trying to keep up with the commentary the article generates doesn't know what I said (not a true loss, in the case, but the principle is there).

I was wondering a little about comment aggregation recently, and systems to keep all comments about an article (or links back to articles directly inspired by an article). I hope they develop more in the near future, and I vaguely wonder what, if any, will be the effect on sites like digg or slashdot (more on this below).

[Warning: this post gets a little rambly about now. If you've got better things to do, don't let me keep you.]

Another aspect of this commenting issue that has been on mind, as of late, is the one I mentioned in a recent post: there are too many venues to publish thoughts. I had something I wanted to say about the article I mentioned at this start of this article. I could have left a comment on the original page. I could have thought about what I wanted to say more and made a post here (and put a link in the comments on the original page). I could have left a tweet pointing to the article (but with 140 characters, some occupied by the obscure tinyurl, could I have left a tweet that would have actually inspired people to take a gamble at a url, for which they had no idea where it actually pointed?). I could have just 'shared' the item in my reader. All of these different venues are hosted by different services, and read by entirely different audiences.

What I dream about is a global interface. I don't want to have to post the same thing many times so that 'my audience' sees it. I want to post in one place, and then if I actually have an audience, have the system automatically send them a message (or wait for an rss request) that says something has been posted. And I can pick a subset of my audience for particular messages, and global reading permissions (I could choose, in fact, just a single person, with only that person allowed to read it, and have just eliminated my need for email/IM). Except my audience has the option of just being an audience when I talk about a particular topic (e.g., they could filter my posts down to those tagged with 'math' (future versions of this system handle the tagging for me, as the semantic web and natural language processing makes better progress)). And when I tell the system that my post was related to, or inspired by, some article I found, the system goes to that article and lets it know it inspired me, with a link to what I had to say.

Again, but from a reader's perspective: Instead of finding a blog I want to follow, and noticing that they also twitter, and... wherever else they post, I can just click 'follow', and get their one global feed (tailored the way they want for privacy). Hopefully this also limits duplication from people whose posts get published in a few locations. And then I notice that a particular source has a hard time staying on track, and talks about a diverse collection of things. I've only got so much time in the day and I don't care about the person's fish recipes (or whatever nonsense), so I can set it up to filter incoming messages/feeds from them based on topics/tags the interest me. Better yet, the system sorts all of my incoming traffic based on my APML data and the audience of the message (if I'm the only intended recipient, and I ignore it... that's not very polite), and soon starts tossing out things I never read (or at least dropping them in some folder I rarely check). And when I do find somebody new to follow, my system asks them for recommendations, compares against my current subscriptions and interests, and leads me to new interesting material. Instead of choosing subcategories of digg to follow, my system finds pages directly.

And we all live happily ever after...

Why?

Before I get to far here, I should point out that this is likely to be a bigish post, and (like most) uninteresting. If you'd rather, watch this bit of Louis C.K. on youtube. The bit I was looking for is toward the end, but it's all funny. Anyway, my goal with this post is to write some things down with the hope that I can then move on. We'll see how that goes.

Alright, so my 'why run' question yesterday remains, I think, unanswered. And will continue to. But I've got another answer to throw into the mix: to know what you are capable of. Like in Fight Club: how can you know yourself if you've never been in a fight. I read an article recently about an ultramarathoner talking about how in the middle of a 100 mile run you really get down to a raw state, and he wanted to see what that was like. I wouldn't know, and for now I'm happy to take his word for it. Another lingering issue from yesterday was this striving for a sense of accomplishment. But why should I need to accomplish anything? Most people don't accomplish much, it seems, in any sort of broad sense. Isn't it egotistical of me to think I should be capable of something? Even to say that most people don't accomplish much... I'm pretty much an ass I guess.

Ok, so moving on from 'why run', how about 'why collect dvds/cds?' More to the point, why keep my current collection? It really seems like physical media is on its way out (I'm gonna make a brief divergence here, to avoid making a whole seperate blog post about more pointlessness: when I get information on pieces of paper, it's starting to really feel like a pain. Paper isn't searchable, and it occupies physical space. If that same information was a digital file on my computer, I can search it, worry less about losing it, and probably other benefits as well. Where's my damn e-paper? Don't get me wrong, I like books. But I'm talking about single sheets of paper, or just a couple together. If whatever is on them has any value, I'd rather it be digital.), that perhaps this last round of hd-dvd and blu-ray are the last media wars. Of course, I could be wrong. But either way, the value of the dvds on my shelf is not going up. If I'm hoping to get anything back for them, there's no better time to sell them than now. But how do I decide which to get rid of? Some almost seem to define me. They are the ones that, when I meet new people (which doesn't happen) I make sure they have seen. They are the movies that I quote daily, or easily could. So if I'm going to trim down my dvd collection, where do I draw the line? What if another movie comes along soon, then I'm adding back it... It's basically pointless. Maybe I should just dump all of them, right now, and vow not to buy more. The monk route. But then I've got a sense of loss. Ok, so I back them up to a hard drive first, then sell them. And then I'm breaking copyright laws (I suppose it wouldn't be a first). Am I likely to make more money selling them than it would cost to get a drive big enough to hold them? I give up. I'm not going to fight the inertia of having a collection. I should, though, fight the urge to expand that collection.

So why do I watch so many movies anyway? Mostly I can't remember them, and I don't really enjoy conversing about movies after they are over. I don't try to analyze movies to pick out main themes or anything. I think I have, frequently, just used them to 'get away'. But now here I am talking about how I wish I was accomplishing something, and I'm still watching these damn movies. It's that same inertia as owning a collection, the comfort in a constant, reveling in routine. (While I'm playing word games here... what's the deal with 'casual', 'casualty', and 'causally'? Those are some damn close spellings for fairly different words. Ok, now I'm on a language kick (way to stay focused)... can't we all agree on some global language? I know there's rather a lot of us, but come on, we could really stand some more global unity. Haven't people said that finding evidence of life on another planet would be a great incentive to bring us together globally? I'm ready.)

Of course, some movies I really do like, and enjoy quoting. But again, why? To show off the extent of my worthless movie watching? I've seen more movies than you, and that's an accomplishment? I hope it's not my only one. Maybe I quote movies to try to make you feel inferior about not recognizing the quote. I am, as noted above, kinda an ass. Or maybe I quote movies that I know the people around me will know, so I can share in the joyful laughter of a group of friends. Some sense of belonging?

Another theme I'm noticing here and in some recent posts, aside from accomplishments, is a sense of missing out. If I'm not watching lots of movies, maybe I'll miss a great one. Or not subscribing to enough of, or the right, rss feeds, I'll miss something. I'm supposed to stop and smell the roses, right? Take pleasure in the little things around me? Enjoy what I have, and stop pining for what I don't?

There's no point to wondering, to asking why. There doesn't seem to be an answer, and even if there is, there seems to be no hope of finding it. Like with religion. I need to be more agnostic at a low level. Stop asking why, and just go do. This was, if I recall, one of my original draws to mathematics: there is an answer to be found, and it can be. There's a certain austere definiteness about mathematics that is powerfully attractive, a way out of the mess that is the real world. Ok, sure, I know about the incompleteness theorems and things, but still.

It looks like I've said what I had hoped to say. And it didn't take as long or as much space as I thought. Hopefully I've resolved something here, and can get on with... life? Is that what this is?

Way to go, ending a resolution with a question. FAIL.