Off on a Tangent
A Fortnightly Electronic Newsletter from the Hope College Department of Mathematics
September 5, 2007 Vol. 6, No. 1
http://www.math.hope.edu/newsletter.html


Third Annual Root Beer Floats Extravaganza Tomorrow Join us tomorrow at 4 p.m. on the covered walkway between VanderWerf and Schaap for a hearty helping of root beer floats and fellowship.  Our annual fall social is a great way to meet fellow math students and professors.  Hope to see you there!

Who are the professors in your neighborhood?

It gives us great pleasure to introduce the newest member of the Hope College Mathematics department, Dr. Stephanie Edwards. 

Prof. Edwards grew up in St. Louis, MO, earned her B.S. in Mathematics and Statistics from Miami University (Ohio), and her Ph.D. from the University of Wisconsin – Madison. 

She met her husband, Darren Parker, in graduate school.  He is a mathematics professor at Grand Valley State University.  They have written two mathematics papers together and have two major theorems together (i.e. children), Eli (4 years) and Bella (1.5 years), as well as two lemmas (i.e. dogs), Anne (long-haired mini-dachshund) and Justice (black lab).  Her interests include snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, gardening, cooking, reading, and ice cream.

Prof. Edwards previously worked at Bemidji State University in northern Minnesota for three years and the University of Dayton for the past six years.  Her main research area is Complex Analysis and Entire Function Theory, although she is also interested in graph theory (multi-designs) and various other problems.

Welcome to Hope, Dr. Edwards!  It's great to have you here!

The Problem of the Fortnight

In a little town in West Michigan lives a math professor, who hears one day that the barber has three children.  So, on the next visit to the barber, the professor casually inquires, "I have heard you have three children, is that right?" "Yes!" says the barber. "Well, how old are they?" "You are the math professor, aren't you?  I tell you, if you multiply the ages of the three, you'll end up with 36."  "All right!" the professor answers and walks home.  The next day the professor comes back to the barber shop and says: "With the information you have given me, it is impossible to figure out how old your kids are." Then the barber says: "Very good, I see you are a good mathematician. If you add the ages of the three, the sum will be the number of my house." So, the professor walks out, looks at the house number and returns home. Still the professor can't find the solution. The next day, the professor tells the barber that there still must be some information that's missing. "Yes, you are very clever!" says the barber. "The next information I'm giving you is the last word I'm saying about the age of my children. Now you will have enough information. Don't come back again and ask for more. The youngest has blonde hair."  The professor goes home and figures out the answer.

What are the ages of the barber's children, and how did the professor figure it out?

Write your solution on the back of your favorite scene from the "Rabbit of Seville" (you know, the Looney Tunes cartoon where Elmer Fudd chases Bugs Bunny into the stage of Hollywood Bowl, whereupon they then reenact their own version of Rosini's "Barber of Seville"), and turn it in to your professor by noon on Friday, September 14.  Be sure to write your name on your solution, and if you are taking more than one math class, make a copy of your solution to give to each of your math professors.


From the South Pacific

The following letter is from Off on a Tangent's foreign correspondent, Jennica Skoug.  Jennica, who graduated from Hope in 2006 with a degree in mathematics and was a featured columnist for Off on a Tangent while she was at Hope.  She is currently weaving together her interests in mathematics and travel by teaching math in Vanuatu, a small island in the South Pacific. 

Teaching Math in Vanuatu

Dear Off On a Tangent,

Hello! It's been a while, but I certainly haven't forgotten my loyalty to this "fortnightly electronic newsletter" of the Hope math department.  For those who don't know me, I graduated from Hope with a B.A. in Math in 2006, and four months later was on my way to Vanuatu – a small island nation in the South Pacific – for two years of service with the Peace Corps.  I was placed at a Teruja Junior Secondary School on Aneityum Island, teaching mathematics.  Our school has 85 students in grades 7-10.  About half of our students are boarders – some from different parts of Aneityum, or from different islands – who live in dormitories near the school and eat in the dining hall, a building with a sand-beach floor and wild-cane roof which also serves as our 7th grade classroom.  

I teach math (or "maths" as it is called here) to grades 7, 8, and 9.   I also ended up taking the 7th grade English class and being the school librarian.  Surprise!  Having no formal experience in teaching or running a library, I have had (and still have) a lot of learning to do myself.  School in the Pacific begins in February, and goes through three terms before the Christmas Holidays in December and January.  We just finished Term II.  During Term I there was a lot of "getting-used-to" to go through, in addition to a lot of math to learn.  On my part, I had to get used to the school and it's students – buildings, resources, student attitudes and comfort zones and educational backgrounds are all much different than what I have experienced in the US.  Students, in turn, had to get used to me, with my sometimes-crazy activities and ideas and English that was inevitably too fast. 

Teruja is situated on the western edge of Analcauhat village, just half a football field's length from the shore.  Our classrooms – one for each grade – are in separate buildings and it is the teachers who move from place to place, not the students.  The windows are large and open to the outside air.  This makes sunny days, looking out on the blue ocean, sandy shore and coconut palms, rather breathtaking at first; however it makes rainy, windy days very noisy and distracting.  (Have you ever tried to talk over rain on a tin roof?)  Our students wear uniforms -- bright yellow tops and green on the bottom -- trousers for boys, long skirts for girls.  Morning classes commence at 7:15 with a 10 minute devotion – although it is a government school, not a church school – after which I bite into four straight hours of class.  Once I get going, I tend to enjoy myself much of the time. The frustrations and plenty, but so are the good, rewarding moments.  I begin my day with grade 7 math.  I like the year 7 students because they are enthusiastic and eager, full of energy and ready to please.  I am challenged by them because they cannot sit still and seem to take so very long to accomplish anything.   I also find that many of the things they were supposed to have learned in primary – multiplication tables, telling time, etc - have either not been learnt or completely forgotten.  My good friend Lisa has given me some really helpful tips, and even sent me a beach ball for multiplication practice.  Everyone was intrigued by the beach ball, and I have had several groups of students come to me after class to ask "Miss Skoug, can we play with the Multiplication Ball?"  Which, of course, is exactly the effect I was hoping for. 

Today I've brought along the slates, which I made back in January and which have been almost invaluable to me in all of my classes.  Today's challenge is telling time with an analog clock.  I recall this being almost second nature to me by the time I hit 2nd grade – but in Vanuatu, there are two obstacles to this seemingly easy task.  While in the US we are surrounded by clocks and times and schedules, in Vanuatu there is rarely a clock to be found.  We have a couple at school, and a few people have wristwatches, but that is about it for the entire island.  The majority of the island happenings are announced by bell, bubu shell, or word of mouth.  Island time.  The second obstacle is English. While required by the government and the school as the language of instruction, it is also the 3rd (or occasionally 4th) language of all the students, and most of the teachers.  Imagine trying to learn math in your 3rd language, from someone who is speaking in their 3rd language.  Sometimes I lapse into Bislama anyways. 

We press on with the slates, me giving a clock time, the students drawing out the hands of the clock on their slates and holding it up for me to see.  They seem to love the small approval they get from me when they get the answer correct and are eager to fix their answer if I shake my head.  It's also rather exciting to write with chalk, and they always draw me very lovely pictures at the end of the lesson.  I can see them making progress, and with repetition I think they are really understanding...unfortunately, the test at the end of the week speaks otherwise.  I think – from experience and from talking with other math teachers here – that most of the students have been trained to sit quiet and copy, but not to memorize or to generate too many of their own ideas. This generally makes for disappointing test results.  So while I think we have made a significant amount of progress in the past two terms, all of us – students and teacher – have a lot of ground to cover yet.  If any of you math education majors have bright ideas or tips for teaching math in a second language, or for teaching a classes with very mixed abilities (from learning disabilities students to quite advanced), send them my way.  I'm happy to answer questions too, about Peace Corps, Vanuatu, "island schools", etc.

Sincerely,
Jennica Skoug
(or, on the island, "Tisyanpa")
jennica.skoug@gmail.com

To speak algebraically, Mr. M. is execrable, but Mr. G. is (x + 1)-ecrable.  
~ Edgar Allen Poe, referring to two fellow writers, Mr. M and Mr. G.